A Dry Gin Kind of Girl
Laura - The house in the suburbs
“Why are you making things even harder?”
His question hangs in the cool breeze of the spring night. The implications ensue even more questions in the silence that follows. Is it hard for him to go? Or is it difficult to accept being touched by a strigoi? Though his warm hands are still pressed over mine, his thumb gently rubbing my wrist.
He sighs again and turns around. The moonlight highlights his chiseled jawline and the fullness of his lips. He glances at me, and his eyes are filled with both agony and desire. Perhaps this is only a figment of my imagination. It is simply impossible for me to tell if this is real or just my wishful thinking.
“This house is in the pack’s territory. Many other wolves live nearby. You don’t have to worry.”