"Grief never ends... but it changes. It's a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith... it is the price of love." -Unknown
~Harmony~
A warmth settles over my body like a blanket as silence wraps around my room. A heavy, yet assuring weight rests over the dip in my waist as a weak breeze caresses my cheek.
Did I leave my window open? I think as I shiver a little from the fresh air.
The dense weight draped over my torso constricts, pulling me backwards into a hard wall. Wait, walls don't move up an down...
Running my hands over my smooth sheets, I unexpectedly trace thick, scratchy woollen blankets. Panicking a little when I realise I'm not in my room, I crack my eyes open, but meet a retina burning glare.
Shielding my eyes from the bright sun, I flip over and bury my head in the darkness creates by my body and the wall. Instead of feeling a cool, plaster under my forehead, I'm swamped with warmth and the enticing smell of... Dylan?
Two thick arms snake around me and pull my body impossibly closer to him. His head comes to a rest on the top of mine and before I know it, one of my arms is around his shoulders and the other resting on his rising and falling chest.
I smile contently as I remember last night in vivid detail.
I prop myself up on my elbow using the hand that was over his chest to support my head and study his beautiful face in close detail.
The morning sun casts half of his face in dark shadows, yet illuminates the other side. His light brown hair looks like honey in the golden light and his thick eye lashes brush his high cheek bones.
Before I can even think about what I'm doing, my hand impulsively cradles the side of his sleepy face.
He stirs under my touch and his long lashes begin to flutter. They pull up and reveal teal blue eyes that shine under the glittering sunshine.
I watch as his eyes rid of their haze and focus solely on me, last night playing through his mind like a film on fast forward as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.
"Good morning, my beauty," Dylan greets in that croaky, sexy morning voice guys sport after the best of sleeps. Is it just me that is so affected by that tone of voice? I feel like I'm under a spell, captivated by the eyes and controlled by the voice. But I can definitely get used to being under Dylan Cole's spell. Oh my god, did I really just think that?
"Good morning," I whisper. One of his large hands comes around the back of my hair and guides my head down to his.
He's going to kiss me, he's going to kiss me, he's going to kiss me chants over and over in my mind as our faces are breaths away. But he doesn't and that's okay because after last night I need sometime to stop and think about everything.
Instead, he intimately brings our foreheads together until they touch and we stay like that, content for a moment by each other, diving in each other's eyes and drowning in their expanse. It sounds a little - or a lot - cliché, but this, right here, right now, is possibly one of the best moments we've had yet.
Suddenly feeling all too warm and swarmed by an army of new emotions, I reluctantly pull away first.
"We better get going," I say, drawing my knees to my chest.
"Yeah, we should," he agrees easily. "I think it's getting pretty late anyway." Dylan rolls to a sit opposite me and slides off the side of the truck, hitting the dusty ground soundlessly.
YOU ARE READING
7 Things About the Boy Next Door
Teen FictionHarmony lived happily in the shadow of her twin until the day came when she was forced to find her own path and create her own story. Better at creating a romance on pages than reality and a little quirky around the edges, Harmony makes it a mission...