Maya and Xander's drunken arguments, however light-heartedly suggestive they were, had really started to stress me out. Nothing they did could get Dorian off of my mind.
I decided to head back to our tent. I don't think they even noticed me leave. I slipped off my boots and opened the tent's entrance, throwing my warm coat next to my windbreaker and stepping inside the tent, zipping the entrance closed before I allowed myself to fall onto our bed, consisting of nothing but the padding at the bottom of the tent, two pillows and a couple of weighted blankets.
It still smells like him.
I was too tired to undress, so I used the little energy I had left to pull the blankets over me and to grab his pillow. I soon found that the only way I could feel comfortable again was by holding the pillow close to me, as the smell of Dorian lulled me into a false sense of security, and sleep grabbed hold of me once more.
YOU ARE READING
Genesis
Science FictionThe year is 2050, and this is my story. My name is Quinn, and on June seventeenth my life took a turn for the worst. I had to escape the city when the world turned mad, casual street strangers and long-time neighbors suddenly thirsting for bloody mu...
