West [ COMPLETED ]

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Nightmares chased me throughout my sleep, and at one point in the night, my conscious self forced me out of my dreams; I awoke with a thudding heart, trying to remember where I was this time, and slowly became aware of Weston's arm around my waist, his leg thrown over mine, and the way his head was nestled in the crook of my shoulder. A sense of peace settled over me and my breathing calmed, and as I fell back to sleep I had no more nightmares.

When I awoke again, the sun was just rising over the trees and Wes was laying sideways halfway across the tent, on his back with his arms spread wide, lips parted, and looking more...boyish than he did when he was awake. I studied his features, the tanned planes of his face, the rough stubble of several days without shaving, and the sensual curves of his mouth which seemed made for kissing. His neck was thick and muscled, like his chest and shoulders, with visible veins running throughout. He was on the slimmer side, so what muscle he had stood out.
I stared, fascinated by the v-line which disappeared into his sweats. I'd never really noticed anyone elses before...but I was appreciating this one.

Reluctantly I crawled out of the tent, gathered some fresh clothing and headed to the showers, realizing I felt almost a magnetic attraction to him now.

I showered and dressed, throwing on a tank and some old ripped up jeans. I combed my hair and put it into two dutch braids, and applied some light makeup.

Looking into the mirror, I decided I wasn't so bad to look at after all, maybe Weston could come to like me- however the last time I looked in the mirror I asked myself how it felt to be in the ugliest one percent of the world. My self confidence in the looks department was spotty at best, however I was able to forget about my looks a lot of the time because I liked talking to people and got very absorbed. Luckily  the fact that I was always mentally immersing myself in a world of my own kept me from dwelling on my looks too much, and besides, I didn't honestly think I was ugly, just-uninteresting. I didn't think I had any particularly intriguing features, except for my eyes, I liked them at least. With an eye roll to myself I put on some lipgloss and headed back to the campsite.

The thing I hated about walking through a campground was passing all the people and not knowing if I should say goodmorning or mind my own business.

I was almost to our campsite when from a group of tents and tables I heard some voices being raised, and one above the others said," Hey you're pretty, can I have your number?"

I didn't even turn to look because I didn't think they were talking to me, until another one said something similar and they got louder, and then I gave a wary glance behind me and saw four or five college age boys sitting in chairs and standing around a fire, all eyes fixed on me.

I gave an awkward laugh and shook my head and kept walking.

"Heyyyy don't go away, come back," begged that one voice again, and I became embarrassed when several other groups of campers turned and stared.

I saw Weston stand up from where he had been crouched by our campfire, and swagger angrily into the driveway that separated our campsite from the boys.

His eyes met mine and I was shocked by the anger there.

"Are they talking to you?" He growled.

"Uhhhhmmm I think so," I said, grimacing.

"C'mere," he said, putting a hand on my arm and leading me back to our fire. He sat me down in a chair and left, calling at me to stay over his shoulder. I watched as he walked over to the boys and talked to them, calmly and quietly, it appeared, and after what could've only been a few sentences, he turned around and left. They looked at each other awkwardly and a few went back in their tent.