Squint
She turned on the light. Louis lay beside her, curled up on the very edge of the bed. She stretched her arm across the gap between them and pressed her palm against his back.
Three years of affinity pressed back against her hand. Three years of familiarity and security, but the heat between the their skin felt dull to her tonight, the cracked window of their small bedroom letting in a draft that filled the space between them.
“Louis,” she whispered.
He turned his head, his eyes squinting in the brightness. He said, “Turn off the light.”
Three years of affinity pressed back against her hand. Three years of familiarity and security, but the heat between the their skin felt dull to her tonight, the cracked window of their small bedroom letting in a draft that filled the space between them.
“Louis,” she whispered.
He turned his head, his eyes squinting in the brightness. He said, “Turn off the light.”