Ghost of You || L.H.

1.

My swollen eyes peel open only to close again as my fingers rub out the crust around them. Last night was one hell of a night. I don't remember much after I started drinking, but I remember that it was hell. Sheer and utter hell.

My head is pounding and I think if I rub my eyes any harder, they'll fall out. Not that I care, I don't care about anything anymore. Or at least I'm trying not to care about anything. Drinking helps, at least it did last night.

Last night was the first night without her. It's crazy to think it hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet. And here I sit, staring at her side of the bed as if she's going to roll over and give me that stupid, half-awake smile that I'm so in love with. Her blonde hair would fall into her face and she would scrunch up her nose when it starts to tickle.

I miss her already...

"Luke!" she squealed, green eyes squeezing shut as her dainty hands pushed against my chest. My fingers playfully attacked her sides, my eyes raking over her figure as she thrashed around under me.

Pillows toppled onto the floor and the smile on my lips only grew as she tried scolding me for making a mess while she was certainly in no position to scold me for anything. I had the upper hand here. Her breath came out ragged and heavy and the soft laughter that fell from her beautiful lips was music to my ears.

"Say it!" I demanded, never halting the gentle assault on her overly sensitive skin. She shook her head and her legs flailed in an attempt to push me off. Stubborn girl. "Come on, baby, what's the magic word?" Her tongue slipped between her lips in a childish manner and I swooped down, momentarily pausing my attack as I swiped my tongue across hers.

She scrunched up her face and laughed harder.

"I don't know!" she said, laughing between each word as my fingers slipped into her underarms, that was her most sensitive spot. "You change it every time!"

She was right, I did change it every time. Usually I would just make her keep guessing until I'd decided she'd had enough. I'm surprised she hadn't figured that part of the game out, yet.

I woke her up like this most mornings. I would wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her into my chest. I would nuzzle my face in her neck and take a deep breath of her dirty blonde curls that always smelled like her favorite watermelon shampoo. I would wait until I heard the telltale groan of her coming to, followed by a low, soft hum as she pressed herself against my chest, eager to be in my arms.

I would adjust my head a little and let my own curls brush over her cheek and nose as I littered kisses across her neck and shoulder, and she would try not to laugh. I would mumble incoherent words, which typically consisted of me complimenting her and showering her in affection. The vibration of my voice against her skin would finally bring the laughter to life. And then then my fingers would inch their way down her skin, searching for the perfect spot to begin my playful assault.

Mornings like this were my favorite part of living with her.

"Pancakes!" she exclaimed, using the same word from yesterday morning. Did she not just tell me that I change it up every time?

"Wrong," I playfully scold her and my fingers attack her sides again, earning another set of squeals and giggles. I loved that sound.

"Muffins!" she guessed, lips curling into a smile as tears rolled down the side of her face. I couldn't contain the smile on my own stupid face if I wanted to. She was so perfect in absolutely every way.

"Guess again, baby," I said, grinning as I dipped my head down between her shoulder and neck. She tried closing the space before I could plant the raspberries on the skin there, but I was too quick, buzzing my lips against her skin as she screamed in delight.