| 3:04a |
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Warm fingers stroke my face from my temple
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Warm fingers stroke my face from my temple to my chin, dragging fire along my skin
“You look like a dryad hidden here in the trees,” he whispers in my earSo
beautiful that you must be fictional
“We should plant more trees around the cabin
He chuckles, and the sound makes my eyes close and my lips stretch into a grin
“Not necessary,” he says“You always look that way
“Says the last man on Earth to the last woman on Earth, on the eve of their separation
My smile fades as I speakSmiles cannot last todayHis breath on my cheek is warm compared to the chill forest air
“Jamie might resent that implication
“Jamie's still a boyPlease, please keep him safe
“I'll make you a deal,” Jared offers“You keepyourself safe, and I'll do my best
Just a joke, but I can't take it lightlyOnce we are apart, there are no guarantees“No matter
what happens,” I insist
“Nothing's going to happen The words are nearly meaninglessBut his voice is worth hearing, no matter the message
He pulls me around to face him, and I lean my head against his chestI don't know what to
compare his scent toIt is his own, as unique as the smell of juniper or the desert r |