Marley's phone clattered to the ground. She stomped across the dark hardwood of his clean side of the room, up to his bed, grabbed his pillow, and attacked.
She swung at his face. He blocked it with harmonious laughter but didn't stop her from doing it a few more times. After about four hits he grabbed her wrist instead of the pillow, tugging enough for her to stumble into him. She gasped and lost her grip on her pillow in favour of steadying herself, curling her hands around his biceps.
Her anger disappeared for a few moments at the feeling of his shifting muscles beneath her grip. She kept her eyes squeezed shut before she was coming to her senses and releasing her hold, still keeping them closed.
It was wishful thinking that he'd let her escape him that easy, by the sound of his deep
