test drive.

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

—❝ SHE DON'T WANNA TELL LIES, SHE JUST WANNA FEEL ALIVE ❞

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SHE DON'T WANNA TELL LIES,
SHE JUST WANNA FEEL ALIVE

There was a certain warmth that enveloped her body as she felt herself slipping into consciousness. It was the kind of sleep where she felt hyper aware of her surroundings, although she knew she was asleep.

Certain sensations erupted, sending off signals in her brain. She was confused more than anything, because just as she was vividly aware of her surroundings, there was a cloud of confusion looming over her. Something felt out of place, different than when she had fallen asleep.

As she woke up sluggishly, a soft sigh left her parted lips, eyes fluttering open in the darkness as she found herself face to face with Finn. Inches of space between them, her hand clutching onto his own as her legs pressed up against his side. So that's what felt out of place.

A startled jolt went through her body, causing her to move away quickly, still within reach. Her breathing picked up, her mind struggling to grasp reality. She wasn't sure how, but those small movements seemed to stir Finn awake.

Millie froze where she lay, pulling her hand down to her side, causing his own to slip aside, landing softly against his chest. He frowned deeply before he blinked his eyes, exhaling heavily as he glanced around them.

"Shit, I didn't even sleep long," he mumbled sleepily, rubbing a hand along his face.

Millie had her lips clamped shut as she tried to recollect how exactly they could have possibly ended up in such a position. How was she holding his hand? How had she managed to slip past all that space she tried to set between them when they first climbed on board?

This wasn't how she had expected to wake up, much less in the dark. What was the point of taking those sleeping pills if they weren't even to keep her out for the full flight?

She drifted her gaze down, trying to ignore his presence as best as she could. But it was kind of hard when she seemed to be fully aware of him, even in her sleep.

He was whatever had felt out of place. At the same time, though, she didn't feel it was out of place. Just different, unusual.

Her gaze drifted towards him briefly, shyly as she felt whatever hard front she had built up since their small outburst earlier on the yacht was beginning to dissipate. One look at his tired eyes, the ruffled curls upon his head, the slight pout on his lips, it was all enough to chip away at whatever she was trying to set between them.

How was he such a comfort to her? How had he come into her life so quickly, offering his presence so easily and becoming such a breath of fresh air?

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