Kayla's POV
It's just a bed. It's just a bed. It's not even the bed. I groan and squeeze my eyes shut, but my heart hammers in my chest and they fly back open. There is no bed. Nothing happened. I roll over quickly, ignoring the small gasping breaths I keep tugging in. God, pull yourself together. This is ridiculous. I grip the neckline of the hoodie and yank it up to my face. I inhale quickly, but it still doesn't smell like him. It hasn't for months. Danny. I close my eyes again and beg for sleep. Green eyes slice open my skin. I sit bolt upright.
"Water," I mutter. I just need water. I throw off the blankets and scramble off the bed. My foot gets caught in the sheets and I crash, landing harshly on the bruise on my side. I suck in a breath and press my lips together. Slowly I let out a shaky exhale and stand up. I creep over to the door and ease it open, careful not to make a sound.
I tip toe down the hall and to the kitchen. I open a cabinet and pull out the lowest glass I can find. Then I ease on the tap and let the water fill slowly. Once the glass is full I hit the water off and tilt my head back, downing the glass. I set the glass on the counter and lean against the granite. I'm fine. I straighten up and move to head back down the hall, but my feet don't move. I glance over at the couch. If he's already awake I'm not doing anything wrong. I creep over to the couch. Danny lays across the cushion with one leg hanging completely off and his other foot sticking out on the end. But he looks peaceful.
"Danny," I whisper anyways. He doesn't move. "Danny are you awake?" Still nothing, not even the slightest twitch. "Danny I can't sleep." I tug at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. Please wake up. I wait another minute, my eyes flicking back to the hall. Screw it. I swallow harshly and breathe in quietly. I take a small step forward. It's just Danny. I take another step. Then I lean forward, bracing my hands against the cushions and place a knee in between his legs. Just Danny. I bring my other leg up onto the couch and lower myself on top of him. Then I freeze. I inhale slowly, but I catch the slightest hint of Danny. It smells like him. I sigh and relax into him, my head against his chest. I inhale him again. Home. My eyelids sag with the weight.
"La La?" he whispers. Speak. Speak. Say anything.
"It's cold," I manage.
"I'll get you a blanket." My lips twitch.
"No, not cold, cold. Lonely cold." I bring my right hand up beside my face and let it grip his shirt.
"What do you mean?" he asks quietly. I press myself closer to him, inhaling his scent again. I pull my left hand up and slip it into his hair, my fingers gliding through the softness. And I sigh. Answer. Answer. A weight settles around my waist. An...swer. I slip away letting darkness fold itself around me.
I hear movement and a voice. He's here. I snap my eyes open and push myself up. My eyes sweeping over the room. Tan walls. Television. I look down. Couch. Danny. He looks up at me. Right. Boys. Apartment. I'm not there. I swallow a sticky dryness.
"What time is it?" I ask softly.
"I don't know," he says.
"It's almost eleven," Bash states. Eleven? I feel my eyes widen.
"And I slept?" I ask, daring the question before I can think. Danny laughs at me.
"Yeah," he tells me, like it the most obvious thing in the world. I blink at him and sigh, liquifying instantly. I slide my arms up and around his neck, he brings his around my waist. My lips graze his neck.
"Thank you, Danny," I breathe. He doesn't respond, so I pull away and slide off the couch. I reach my arms up and twist before rubbing my eyes. Danny moves to stand next to me. "What's for breakfast?"
YOU ARE READING
Bad Boys
Teen Fiction{COMPLETED} Kyle was just Kyle. No last name, no family, no past. It was simple that way. Or at least it was easier than being Daniel, who cared too much to be anything but a coward. Kyle got decent cash from his side job, flunked classes on purpose...
