A high pitched, slightly hoarse scream awoke him. Lucca's eyes shot open and he fumbled for his phone, until he found the sleek black machine, and could finally look for the damn light switch. Light blinded him for a second and a headache overcoming him caused Lucca to groan. He wanted to puke, too and rushed for the nearest bathroom.
After brushing his teeth with an unopened toothbrush, he splashed his face with water. The screams had stopped. Had it been his imagination?
But just as he was closing the door behind him, he heard desperate cries for help.
He opened Camelia's bedroom door hesitantly, and his mouth fell open. She was thrashing against the covers, and shouting,"don't... please, please help, I- please don't... stop! Stop!"
Lucca rushed to her side, not quite believing what he was seeing.
"Wake up, Camelia," he murmured. "Wake up! Cam, wake up!"
Finally, she opened her eyes and stopped screaming. She burst into tears instead, sobs shaking her body uncontrollably. Lucca took her in his arms and she didn't protest. He caressed her hair until her uneven breathing slowed down, repeating the words, "It's okay, I'm here. You're okay."
But she had already fallen asleep, her limbs intertwined with his. Lucca sighed, he was sure to get hell for this.
He was holding her.
Snippets of their friendship returned to him then, of him chasing her, and them falling over each other. He remembered her ability at playing football, and his foot skillfully guiding the ball to a goal. He remembered the nights they spent with their friends, the times they watched movies together when he baked her cookies because she was shít at everything she cooked...
They had shared moments together, and Lucca wondered if they could be friends again.
Observing her dormant form, Lucca tried to disentangle his body from hers, but the sound of Camelia content sigh had him still.
He glanced at the clock. It was early, he reasoned, and he was still very much hangover.
The dark tendrils of sleep were inviting, and Lucca made up his mind.
He lowered them into the mattress, her head nuzzled against his chest, and fell asleep to the sound of her breathing.
I wake up to light streaming through my windows and squint my eyes as soon as it blinds me. I rub my eyes, trying to erase the sleepiness I feel, and pause as everything comes back to me.
He heard me.
He fücking heard me.
I slowly turn to my side, filled with dread, only to find it empty. Yet, the sweet-smelling scent of him lingers as I inhale deeply, awakening all of my slumber-coated senses.
"Shįt!" I hear Lucca exclaim, then his head poking through the doorframe of my bedroom door.
"We have to be at your parents' place in twenty minutes!" He informs me, slightly breathless. His face is paler than usual, and thick, dark circles paint the lower skin under his eyes. He is still shirtless, I notice, as he moves, crossing his arms, to lean across the doorframe.
"Okay," I say slowly, ridding myself of the covers. I feel his gaze seeping down my legs as I do so, but he immediately raises his hands in defense as I stare pointedly at him, raising an eyebrow.
YOU ARE READING
Previously named Bilionaires Aren't Black " All I can focus on is the blood beating harshly to my temples as I pull her closer to me, trying to figure out the enigma next to me, currently snuggling up to my chest, and slowly but surely weaving her...