The Love
The door slammed into the wall behind it with so much force that it rattled on its hinges. I pulled away from Jason for a moment to assess the damage, hoping against hope that there wasn't a hole in the dry wall because the shade of grey on that wall was my favourite colour and I couldn't exactly paint over the patch immediately because we didn't have any more paint and the store was out of stock.
My eyebrows furrowed while I squinted, trying to focus on the possible dent in the dimming daylight. Nightfall could be ones biggest enemy sometimes.
"Stop worrying about the wall." Jason's lips were on my neck, joyfully distracting me in a way that I welcomed with open arms. "Focus on me."
"But if the paint is scratched, or there's a hole, then we nee—" lord almighty, his hands beneath my shirt set my skin on fire. "—eed to assess the damage."