Lia
Every sound, every drop of rain hitting the roof served as a reminder: something was on the horizon.
I slipped out of bed barefoot, the chill of the floor seeping into my feet. I was clad only in a long t-shirt, one of his, with thin underwear beneath. I didn't bother to gather up my hair.
I didn't bother to feign that I was just casually going to get water.
I knew where he would be.
And he knew I would come.
The faint glow from the refrigerator lit up the kitchen as I rounded the corner. Henrique was there, leaning against the sink with a bottle of water in his hand, his gaze fixated on some point on the floor as if he was waging a war within his own mind.
The cotton shorts hung low on his hips, the t-shirt clutched in one hand, exposing the muscles of his abdomen in the semi-d
