The Badboy Got Out Of Wattpad

5. Tara

Hazel

The soft warmth of the sunlight caresses my skin. My mind sluggishly blurs back to consciousness, piercing greenish-blue eyes flashing in my head. My eyelids are forcibly spread wide. A white ceiling is facing me.

Where am I?

An excruciating pain starts cramming my head as my eyes dart across the place. A far-flung room, curiously unfurnished. It is delicately painted in a gleaming white colour, with a wide glass in front of me, displaying a prime view of the bright azure-blue sky.

One second.

I have never seen that room before.

I shot up from the bed, dazed. Where the fucking hell I am!

Bleary visions of last night start to play in my head. I remember that I have finally seen him. The badboy of my book. He was in front of his door, gazing at me. Then I went through an excruciating dizziness. And I remember something else.

A sentence.

A strange sentence.

It was from a male's voice. The one I heard talking to my parents at my place. Erden's voice for sure. He said that he has been waiting for me.

Me!

And then... Darkness.

I can't remember anything.

Panic begins to creep up my throat. Why can't I remember what happened next? My heart is quivering, fear invading my body. I have lost control of my breathing. It's so quick and heavy. What the hell happened? What about Erden? What did he mean by waiting for me?

I have no answers to millions of questions. But one thing I know,

I have to get out of here.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I fleetly take off the white sheet which was covering the lower part of my body. But as I try to move, I feel something around my waist, perturbing my advances. I automatically look down.

My eyes go wide.

A warm callous arm is wrapped around my waist. I can feel the rhythm of my pulse boosting of terror when I realise that it belongs to Erden. I gulp as my eyes cowardly shift to the left to look at him, beseeching that he is still in dreamland. And he is. I breathe a sigh of relief, though astounded of what's before my eyes. Erden's body is resting on his right side, offering me his front view. One thing is magnetic about him. His eyes. Although they aren't open now.

His eyes are shut, long eyelashes casting shadow on his flat cheeks. I must avow, his curly eyelashes are really beautiful. Long and thick.

But his eyes are just another perfection in his perfection. He has tanned skin, a flawless clear-cut angular face covered with thin black beard on his chiseled jawline. His black hair, dark as midnight, are messily swept back into a pompadour style, with a few pieces falling onto his square forehead. Two thick narrowed eyebrows, a roman nose, and his lips!

I never thought I would say that one day, but seriously, his lips!

His wide lips are the call for an amorous adventure.

Frankly, I have never seen such pulchritude in my eighteen years of existence. He has the authentic description that I had written in my book. As if my imagination got lively printed. Deep inside of me, there is a wave of pride for having designed such an out-of-the-world creature.

But I come back to earth as my eyes land on his bare bronze callous chest.

Why is he shirtless? My heartbeat accelerates once more. Does he even have something on under this white sheet?