I miss being obsessed with Super 8 :/
I couldn't sleep. I was thinking. Way too much to think about, in my little mind. I always imagine my mother, wherever she is, thinking, my little Alice, blond, blue-eyed, so so sweet. So innocent. A giggle bubbled up my throat, my lips turning up. I stared at the lights of cars dancing on the cream wall in front of me.
I don't remember what time we got here. I didn't care. Our bags are thrown on the floor, both of us collapsing on the bed from running.
We ran. A lot. As far as we could, out of Lillian. When we figured it was far enough for tonight, we checked into the tiny motel, that smelled faintly of gasoline.
I traced my finger along his thumb, his warm, mine cold. I watched as he fell asleep an hour ago, his hand in a fist, and as he slowly drifted off, his hand unraveling. I smiled, his face looking so much younger when he's asleep then when he's awake. I suddenly missed his brown eyes, soft and warm.
I couldn't get the feeling to go away. The feeling I get whenever I look at him, always remembering when he came and saved me from the alien. How he saved all of us. How brave he was. And now, looking at his baby face, the moon gleaming off his cheek, I wanted to do the same. Hold him, never let go, protect. Be with him forever and ever, always knowing he's safe. And mine.
I sighed loudly, my feet touching the hard carpet. I need to stop thinking like that, it's ridiculous. I can't hold him and never let go. He's not mine. The thought seemed to punch me in the gut, almost winding me.
My heart ached. I wanted him so bad.
I made my way into the shower, being careful to try to not wake Joe off, but then gave up when I realized the shower is gonna be loud no matter what.
I took a look in the mirror and groaned. I touched the edge of the blood red splotch on my face, still stinging.
The shower burned, a million pin pricks against my skin. It felt good though, to rinse off all the sweat that had built up over the last day. I rinsed my hair till it squeaked. My hand soapy, rubbing my body, my brain imagined my hands were Joe's. Rubbing, caressing...
I blushed.
I got out and dressed, the air foggy and moist. I peeked my head out to see if he had awoken. He hadn't. I was surprised, I thought it would wake him.
I returned back to my spot in bed, tracing his hand. My hand was burning hot now though, just like his.
I couldn't sleep. I was still thinking. I watched as the shadows stopped, and the rain started. Drumming against the pavement so loud, I thought it would break. But soon it stopped, the sun rising, pink.
And his eyes finally flickered, opening, his face fresh
