George ran a hand through his hair in distress as Sammi walked away from him, her head held high. "What do I have to do to make you love me?" George cried out to her, his voice cracking and she stopped in her tracks and turned on her heal. She scowl...
George blinked as sound of muffled gunshots rattled the wall next to him. He huffed lightly and went to stretch only to hear a light snore come from a heavy weight on his chest. He looked down to see Samantha sleeping soundly. Her mouth was open and her hair was splayed across his stomach, frizzy and untamed. He smiled softly and let the memories of the night before take over his brain as he began to brush some of the hair out of her face.
If heaven had been something on earth, it was Samantha Clarke. The way she touched him sent him somewhere he didn't know existed. He'd done the same with other girls, but none had never made him feel quite as good as it felt last night with Samantha. Hell, they hadn't even gotten close.
"Georgie?" Samantha's soft voice reached his ears.
George hummed and looked back down at her. "Good mornin'," he whispered. She lifted her head to look at him and reached her hand out to move some of his hair out of his forehead.
"Good morning," she replied with a smile. She admired him and continued to trace his face with her gentle fingers. George melted into her touch with an airy sigh. "I'm dying to meet the waitress who always tells you to tell me I'm beautiful," Samantha broke the silence between them.
"Oh, are ye?"
"Yeah. After all, she's the one who keeps you fed considering breakfast is the only meal you eat. I need to thank her."
George chuckled. "Well, considering that I pay her to feed me, then ye should be thanking me."
"Did I not already do that last night?" Samantha smirked at him.
"Cheeky, love. C'mon let's go." George returned her smirk.
Samantha pried herself away from George's warm arms and into a sitting position. She was undisturbed by the sounds of gunshots coming from the wall next to them. George had told her about the Bambi Kino playing old westerns at early hours in the morning in his first couple of letters. She simply glanced at the wall and let out a small breath of irritation before standing and stretching her aching limbs. She wasn't used to sleeping on such an uncomfortable bed.
She barely noticed George's eyes lingering on her as she bent over to grab some clothes out of her bag. He let his legs dangle over the edge of the bed as she bustled, gathering the things she needed for the bathroom. Her tangled and frizzy hair fell down her shoulders and over her blue nightie, and her long legs carried her gracefully from one side of the bed to the other. He tried not to pay attention to how short the nightie was but it was almost impossible given the events that had taken place last night. Still, he pried his eyes away from her bum, instead choosing to study her pretty face for the second time that morning.
