Willow.
I woke up late. The sun had already climbed halfway through the sky by the time I forced myself upright with the sheets tangled around my legs and the dull ache of a hangover throbbing somewhere behind my eyes. Is that what they feel after drinking? Why do they keep doing it again and again? f**k.
I stared at the ceiling for a moment still haunted by the remnants of that dream. Of his hands, my breath and the soft tension that bloomed between us like something forbidden and fragile. I shook it off or more like tried to do my best to do so.
The dorm was still empty. Damon’s bed remained untouched and made up with the kind of sharp edges that screamed discipline and a man who didn’t sleep much. He's not started making his bed still and I had to do it all the time which is someth
