Cheryl POV
I recovered from my slumber, for Peter had successfully thrust some painful syringe into my flesh that overpowered my cells, and I lost consciousness within seconds, I was sure.
My eyes were blinking slowly, but I immediately clasped the atmosphere. It was night because the place was dark and cool. Apart from the nightstand lamps that provided a subdued light, any other lanterns were off.
I was lying on my stomach where the bed felt comfy, and not a feeling of angst did arise in me, for I was able to breathe after a long time.
"I wished things were different, Cheryl!" I heard the sad raspy voice, and promptly, my heart stopped. He was there—nowhere but next to him.
Funny! for my arm was on his lap wrapped around his waist, how?
His torso felt completely bare. I could feel
