This is so soft, I think as my arms slowly graze the bed sheets. "Hmmm," I hum, I want to stay in this graceful slumber even if it were just a second longer. But suddenly I felt sharp wrecking pains within my forehead. My eyes dart open at the pain and I realize I am not in my room. This is not my room and this is not my bed. "What the hell?" I mumble, panicky looking at my surroundings.
I hear ruffling noises behind the bedroom hazel wood door.
Oh my goodness. This is where I die. Someone has brought me in their house and has done who God knows what and will now do more who God knows what.
The door creeks open to see a tall scruffy young guy walk into the room. "Hey I'm Pierce. You huh- you're probably very confused." My lack of response and utter sanity makes him continue. "My friend bumped into you on the street," he gestured to my forehead, "you fell, blacked out, and he brought you here."
It begins to come back to me, the subway, the ballet class, the worst day of my life.
"I'm sorry." Is the only words I can fumble. I'm beyond embarrassed. I literally couldn't take care of myself enough where I had to let a stranger do it.
"Hey don't be sorry," he smiles, "my buddy should be back home in a few, and I need to head out, but I wanted to tell you before I left. He will help from here."
"Thank you for everything. Oh and my names Melissa." I said slowly not overthinking anything with my head wound.
"You're welcome Melissa." He smiled walking out of the bedroom.
And it slowly acquired to me that I didn't even ask about my health- I know nothing. And as well as who even am I waiting for to come home? I mean this is New York and call me old fashion but I just don't think I'm in any condition to fight off any robbers.
I slowly glance around the apartment room. Whoever lives here with this guy has a very nice room, big, comfy, and very homey. At the bed side is a coaster with an empty class, alarm clock and then a picture frame that tipped down. I raise my arm sickly and pull up the frame to see a family photo. I grab the frame and let my eyes trail across the big smiles and side grins of happy loving relatives. It was sweet. My eyes stop at someone particularly. The actor. Ansel Elgort.
That is of course who I ran into in New York City and got a concussion while doing so. Suddenly the door opened. And there stood a very proud and curious Ansel Elgort admiring me, admiring his family photos while laying in his bed.
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Hey guys! Please comment and favorite and let me know what you think! Sorry it's so short this chapter but theres a lot more crazy and fun chapters and twists ahead of us! :)
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Stay With Me (Ansel Elgort Romance)
Romansa"There are famous poets and song writers that could never gather up the right collection of words to describe the way I feel about you. Not even the universe could rotate enough times to tell you how much you mean to me. But I know it's always going...
