S H I L O H (a short story)

| N I G H T T E N |

On the tenth night, Hensley felt like hell. She was exhausted and she couldn't stop her head from bobbing.

She didn't get much sleep during the days anymore, her sister was staying with her and she always had her stupid friends over, and they never wanted to go home.

She was curled up against Shiloh's chest, humming her lullaby.

It kept her calm and she knew Shiloh liked it. He'd even started humming along subconsciously.

She liked him a lot. He listened, he talked, and he knew things without having to ask.

She just wished that she was normal. Maybe then, she could see him during the day, at school or whatever. It was thanksgiving break, that meant two weeks. Two weeks almost up.

Even if she saw him at school, would he say hello? Would they be considered friends in his eyes? or would she be some freak he met up with at night.

As soon as the thought came, it left. He wasn't like that and she knew it.

"Hey, Shiloh?" Her voice was tired, over-the-top tired.

"Yeah, Hens?" she loved the nickname. It was weird but it was his. He hugged her tighter to him. He was so warm and she wanted to fall asleep right there, but it wasn't happening.

"What's reason number five?" her voice was broken and seemed a little raw.

"Reason five? you should know, I'm kinda making these up as I go, Hens." She laughed then he laughed and they were both laughing until he stopped and spoke.

"Would it be too cliché to say that the most beautiful part about the night is you?" she looked up at him and smiled.

"Yes, that would be too cliché." But Hensley loved clichés.

And what could've been more cliché than the kiss they shared.

Dedicated to @watleye for being the first vote. Thank you. Keep on keeping on.