Hey guys. Sorry I've been away so long. I've delved into some new obsessions. (Fortunately or unfortunately) And I've been working on my own book that I hope to have published before I turn twenty. Fingers crossed.
I'm updating this baby first because I got so many reviews asking for updates. (Most were anonymous, though…)
I hope it isn't too terrible. I'll try to update everything more often. It's hard, though. I have barely any time ever anymore…
The Body In The Shed—Chapter Ten
Jack seemed a lot sleepier than usual. Pitch worried that maybe all that time outside had made him sick. He made sure to keep him bundled up by the fire as long and often as he could. The boy was precious to him. He couldn't let anything take him away- especially not something as preventable as illness.
He rubbed the top of the teen's head gently as he and his sister slept. Pitch himself was sticky with sweat sitting so close to the fire, but they both seemed content curled under their fluffy wool blanket. They had less body fat than he did. Maybe that was why the heat didn't affect them as much.
He let them all sleep down in the living room that night. He wanted Jack to stay warm and stay healthy. Such a precious child should not be lost. And yet he almost was… Along with his sister…
Kissing their foreheads, he silently promised himself that he would keep them safe. He'd been promising himself this since they first came into his life. He couldn't keep away. It probably wasn't healthy to love something this much.
Jack stirred in his sleep. Pitch smiled down at how he immediately held his sister tighter and relaxed. All he ever worried about was his baby sister. Never himself. That was just as unhealthy as Pitch's love. He would let himself get sick to save his sister.
And now Pitch was getting drooled on. He felt a shiver of disgust go up his spine. He didn't even want to know who it was that was drooling. The fact that he could feel it pooling on his shirt was bad enough.
Again he shivered. Wasn't he just sweating a minute ago? Ugh, these perfect kids would be the death of him. They really would.
But being the nice guy he is, Pitch let them sleep. Against the chill rolling up and down his spine with every passing second, he stayed and let his two angels sleep.
Maybe in the morning he'd make them cinnamon rolls or something sweet like that. He was sure they'd both enjoy it. They each had a sweet tooth. Maybe he'd make muffins too.
Yeah… Muffins and cinnamon rolls… That sounded good…
He dreamt of pastries that night.
Sorry t's so short. I have no excuses. Only apologies.