Where The Wild Things Are

I like the way he smells. His intoxicating musk. Every person has a distinct smell, and I like his. As I sit next to him on the patterned bus seat I realize what I want. I want someone to hold me and make me laugh, to cuddle me. I want to smell him on my wrinkled clothes. I long to fall asleep on his shoulder and for him to caress my head as I sleep. I crave for an arm around my waist and a hand on my flushed cheek, pulling me closer. I can almost feel his breath fan my neck as he whispers in my ear. I can nearly taste the cookies we share on his lips. He would be there when I feel sad. Brush away my tears and hold me. Make me feel safe, when safe is a forgotten dream. He could protect me from the one who is supposed to love me most. He could give me the life I wish I knew. He could, if only he opened his eyes.

This is my first book, and I hope you will enjoy it. There is a more detailed description of the story in the prologue.
- Arabella