Suri Nightingale
They say the morning after a party is usually hell, but for some reason, when I woke up today, I felt oddly fine. For someone who drank a ton of shots the night before, I’m thoroughly and pleasantly surprised I’m not hugging the toilet bowl at seven in the morning.
But then again, maybe I’ve had enough of that last night in one of Raquel’s gold-filled bathrooms.
Shudders traveled all throughout my body when a thought invaded my head out of nowhere.
Atlas’ lips on mine. Atlas’ hands on my body. Atlas’ scent rubbing off on me.
“Ahhh! Erase, Suri! Erase!” I shouted at myself before burying my face on one of the cottony pillows and screaming my frustrations out.
After a few minutes of what I believed was enough to gain my sanity back for the day, I began to count ba
