It's late, and he's pressing closer to me than usual. I cringe from the nerves, and he pulls away.
He awkwardly runs his hand through his hair, then says, "I need a haircut."
I reach out a trembling hand and touch it. Run my own fingers through it like I've wanted to for so long. "I kind of like it this way."
His lips quirk. "Do you?"
He leans in closer again, magnetized to my touch.
And I'm scared. I want him to stay, but I know I'm not ready for anything else.
Eventually, he flops onto my pillow and mumbles, "Maybe I'll just sleep in here tonight."
And that's how we start sleeping – just sleeping – together. Wrapped up close because there is no other way of sleeping in my small bed.
YOU ARE READING
Doubts
RomanceWe met online, which is how I've always imagined it. We poured our souls out in text. But meeting in person is terrifying. I've never had a real relationship. I've fallen in unrequited love and written about love since I was nine. But this is real...
