TWENTY THREE

pov : oliver

"It feels weird," I said, touching my forehead before looking at her. She was sitting on the hammock and I was sitting cross-legged on the bed facing her. "I'm not having a hangover."

I stood up from the bed, walked over to the table and fetched myself a glass of water. We have been talking for the past few hours. None of us felt sleepy and I was sure it was two in the morning by now.

"I gave you painkillers." She said, sighing and I narrowed my eyes at her. Once again, she captured my heart, proving again and again just how much we were meant to be. I loved the fact that she took care of me. I could die happy.