I wake after the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in two days. And I know the reason behind that is Quinn.
How is it possible I’ve grown to depend on him in such a short amount of time? I feel safe with him, as he seems to be my equilibrium. If we’re off, then so am I. But if we’re balanced, then everything is, well, steady.
“Mornin’.”
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sit up and look around the room, which is only illuminated by the soft glow of the small TV.
“What time is it?” I ask, clearing my throat when I see Quinn sitting on the brown sofa, channel surfing with the volume muted.
“A little after four,” he replies, his eyes fixated on the TV.
He’s propped up his bare feet on the coffee table in front of him, and his tangled hair cascades into his intense eyes as he focuses on the TV
