On the seventh night, Hensley was tired again and she was humming again. Shiloh asked what she was humming.
"It was something my dad used to sing when I was little." She sighed and her head rested in the crook of Shiloh's neck. He tried not to concentrate on the little puffs of warm air that brushed his shoulder.
"Well, how does it go?" he wanted to hear her sing. He wanted to know if he was right, if she sounded as beautiful as he'd expected.
She lifted her head and he detected her blush. It gave him a sense of pride - that he could make her blush. He wanted to do it again.
"Like, sing it?" it was the only time she gave off a nervous vibe and he almost smiled. Hensley was never nervous. This was normal, it made her seem more - human.
He nodded and she cleared her throat.
"Rose, rose, rose ,rose, shall I ever see thee wed?"
Her voice cracked a bit, but he proved himself right. Her voice was amazing.
"None shall I marry, till I find my true love."
The melody was breathtaking and Shiloh found himself getting lost in the tune.
Hensley continued to sing and Shiloh continue to listen. And they continued to enjoy each other's company; just them and the night.
YOU ARE READING
S H I L O H (a short story)
Teen FictionIn which a boy with nyctophilia meets a girl with insomnia * "My name is Shiloh", he replied, and she said he looked like a Shiloh. He asked her name. "Hensley." it was a short clipped reply, one he grew accustomed to. He knew it was because she was...
