Fully Automatic (Bullet)
“He woke up again later when he heard the door to her room close. She wasn’t being loud, but he’d awakened anyway. He heard her chair slide on the floor as she sat down, and he imagined her sitting there staring at him, and it freaked him out. So he opened his eyes and smiled when he saw her back was to him. She pulled a drawer on her desk open and started putting makeup on. He could only imagine what her face looked like, framed by the white towel wrapping her hair. He couldn’t tell what she was wearing—only that it was pink, not the black Godsmack t-shirt she’d been wearing the night before—but he couldn’t stop watching her, thinking about her. He let out a breath. He didn’t know the last time he’d wanted someone so badly, if he ever had.
Several minutes later, she pulled the towel off her head and set it on the side of the desk, then started running a comb through her hair. God. This was bad. He could have watched her for hours, just pining away for her, enjoying the ...way she moved, wanting to touch her, tell her. She started to stand, and that was when he knew the jig was up, so he sat up in bed and said, “Morning.”MoreLess
Several minutes later, she pulled the towel off her head and set it on the side of the desk, then started running a comb through her hair. God. This was bad. He could have watched her for hours, just pining away for her, enjoying the ...way she moved, wanting to touch her, tell her. She started to stand, and that was when he knew the jig was up, so he sat up in bed and said, “Morning.”MoreLess
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