- B L A I R E -
11.21.16 // 8:40 p.m.
T IS BREATHING heavily down my neck. His sweat is dripping onto my shoulder as I groggily flutter my eyes open. T is above me, trying hard to tie my hands behind my back, but his hands are trembling too much and he ends up dropping the ropes.
My cheek rubs against the soft fabric on his jacket and he smells strongly of stale coffee, old spice... and fire. He curses as he fails, again, at tying a knot. The rope is cutting painfully into my wrist as I begin to kick at his legs. T abruptly pulls away from me and it's then that I get a good look at his face.
His eyes are big and lost, his hair is sticking up, most likely from running his hands through it too many times, and his mouth is set into a hard frown. He looks so young, so lost and heartbroken.
