Valentina
It's still dark out when I wake up. 2 am, according to the digital clock on one of the nightstands. The sheets on the bed beside me are rumpled and look like Silas had one hell of a night so far. I slept like sh*t rolling around every few minutes after swallowing his comment from earlier.
My half-asleep brain decides that drinking something hot might be a good idea now. So, sitting up, I pull my hair in a bun and make a note to think about cutting it. Then I pat over, to the electric kettle, fill it and flip the switch. I rub my eyes a few times, listening to the gurgle of the liquid inside slowly coming to a boil.
Until I'm ripped out of my trance-like state by someone shouting, "F*CK!"
I'm instantly wide awake, ready to defend myself against whoever is coming through that
