Espionage? Teenage spy? Sounds bonkers. That kind of thing only happens in movies.
Normal teenagers wake up every morning and go to school, come home, do homework, do their chores, go to sleep - then wake up and do it all over again.
Ariella Alder...
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𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎 | 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚢
My eyes fluttered open feeling the warmth of my giant blankets. I took the extra comforter that my mom and dad used during snowstorms. They were meticulous about their sheets. My mom used to use a thick and fluffy black blanket when it was snowing. I didn't have the heart to take their normal comforter, because Grayson and I have left their bedroom the way it was the morning they left us. Little did we know, they'd never sleep in their bed again.
This is not my blanket.
I stirred underneath Archer's arms, he had me encased in the warmth of his body. In his sleep, he was planting feather-like touches against my skin. Going up and down the inside of my arm.
My back was resting against his chest. One of his arms was probably numb underneath my head and neck. His other arm was draped around my waist.
I looked at his fingertips and saw that they were limp and lifeless. Archer was still asleep. My movement hasn't woken him up yet. I don't want to wake him up yet.
There's no possible way of determining what time it is without moving and waking up Archer, so I settled on going back to sleep. We all went to sleep in the early morning, so it's probably around noon. Some more sleep wouldn't kill anybody. I hope.
Back to sleep, sounds heavenly.
🂧
"Ariella?" A voice called out. A firm hand wrapped around my bicep, trying to shake me awake. I quickly grabbed the person by their shoulders and flipped them over. Their body made a right angle with their legs pointed up against the wall. "Ariella!" Archer shouted. I looked down and saw Archer groaning in pain.
"Shit! I'm so sorry," I said, releasing his neck. "I didn't mean to do that."
"It's okay," Archer gasped, panting to get more air in his lungs. "It's okay. I didn't mean to scare you."
"Did I hurt you?" I asked, getting up from my bed.
Archer struggled getting to his feet, but he kept coming towards me. I kept stepping backwards, nearly tripping over my own two feet. Keeping distance between Archer and I felt safe. My indescribable need to keep him safe overloaded the want of keeping him close to me.
"No. I'm fine," Archer said, coming towards me with his hands up in surrender. "I promise you. I'm fine."
He needs to stay away.
"Please," I pleaded. "Please, don't come any closer."
It didn't take long for the scent of waffles and french toast to fill the entire apartment. Archer and I cautiously went to the kitchen, thinking that I would find my family butchered while the killer helped himself to breakfast.
