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chapter ii. KNIFE TO THE HEART
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ADIM BEAM of light streaming in from the overhead window in the cockpit of the Milano stirred Astrea Voss awake the following morning. She groaned and rolled away from the brightness annoyingly pounding against her eyelids and sought darkness once more. But it never came when a warm pair of lips brushed against her bare shoulder, igniting a fire within her that prompted her eyelids to crack open and a smile to spread on her face.
Astrea glanced over her shoulder, meeting his bright eyes. "Good morning," she yawned.
And then she felt a sharp throb in her skull, causing her to grimace.
Gods, why did I have to drink so much?
With a groan, Astrea rolled over to face the ceiling and began massaging her temples. Her boyfriend chuckled knowingly.
"Regretting all those drinks now?"
"Please, don't talk," she whimpered.
"Always so dramatic," Peter teased, rising to his feet and throwing the blanket over her.
She reached out and slapped his bare ankle, as Peter shuffled around the Milano to find his clothes in the mess they created during the night. Clothes were scattered all over the place, they had knocked a chair over, and there was two empty cups tipped over on the table littered with a few crumbs from the snack they shared after they made their way toward his cot for a couple blissful hours.
