The Last Star

Chapter 13

          HEY!!!

         ENJOY!

            Chapter 13

         OLIVIA'S POV:

      I'm pretty sure last night was a dream. No. I'm certain.

     Who am I kidding? Last night wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare. Last I broke up with Ryan Quimbee, by my own choice.

           Ah...Ryan...

      I sigh to myself like a hopeless romantic and reach my arms out towards the ceiling, stretching and yawing simultaneously. Thank God it's Saturday with the laziness I'm feeling. But, is it laziness, or love-sickness? Eugh, gross Olivia, seriously? You are done with him. Plus you never loved him, he's just your crush.  Yeah, it's just a crush...I think, I hope.

    After my cat-like stretch and yawn, I lay on my side, facing the beauty that is beyond the immense balcony doors. Luckily, nobody had drawn my curtains yesterday, therefore, I can see right through the glass windows. Today, not in the same as any other day, the sun is shining so brightly that for a moment, I need to shield my eyes with my eyes with my hands, until the sensitive pupils adjust. I felt sorry for Alex and his friend where ever they were.

     I let my mouth reshape itself into an 'o' to let another yawn escape my lips, while rubbing at my sleepy eyes, urging them to come alive and wake up. However, my stubborn mind doesn't want to leave behind the beautiful dream that I've been lucky enough to be in. It's a weird dream, but nonetheless, very beautiful.

     Ryan and I are sat in the woods; the dark navy blanket of sky above us hangs low, along with the moon that sources are eyes with light. We are sat, cross-legged, facing each other, not touching but very, very close to each other. In his eyes dances hunger, lust, a want for something that is so close to him, yet so far away. For a split second, his eyes dart to my lips, then travel back up to meet mine. That's when I know that if I move an inch closer, I will be kissing him, and he will enjoy it. But I never do, I'm too much of a coward.

    I sigh. I'm definitely awake now, and the bittersweet dream has faded, ever longing to become a reality. The thin memory of it sinks to the back of my mind, where I think I'll stay for a very long period of time. Okay, Olivia, up you get, time to start your day.

  I listened to the bossy voice in my head and pushed the cream and golden blankets from my body, allowing the coolness of the room to sink into my bare skin. Slowly, trying to avoid getting a head rush, I sit up straight, brushing away my messy hair from my face with my fingers. Twisting my head, I read the time that's visible on the clock above the bed that I'm sat on.

                 12 o'clock?

                  12 o'clock!

    

       As in, 12 noon? Why hasn't anyone woken me yet? I know its Saturday, but I hate sleeping into the afternoon. I've lost my whole morning. Annoyed, I pout my lips stubbornly and lay my head back onto bed, only too far of to the side rather than on a pillow.

     My body slammed against the floor, and yes, I am hurt, yes, my head is twisted in a way that it should never be twisted in. The duvet wraps around my legs as they fall from the comfy mattress and slap the wooden flooring that isn't covered by the rug, resultantly making me wince in pain. Luckily, due to the fabric of the duvet that's covering my face, my wince only makes a quiet, muffled sound. Otherwise, if anyone heard it, it would be embarrassing.