We Dream at Midnight (Ember 2)
Here she is. I can see the slope of her spine through that thin shirt. She's made of angles I ache to smooth with a hand, but I'd use my lips if she asked.
I brush her knuckles with mine. Her skin is cold, but she flips her palm for more contact. I lace our fingers. It's enough to make her look at me.
As those kaleidoscopic eyes meet mine, I hold my breath.
Then she sets her lips just under my jaw. It rips the air from my lungs. It's the softest thing I've ever felt.
"What was that for," I breathe.
She pulls back, lashes damp, and whispers, "You're the kind of person that should be kissed."
𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚
𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚
BOOK TWO
C O N T A I N S :
❤︎ mature content
❤︎ romance & friendship
❤︎ yearning
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