SHE (Book #1)

18

**Malachi POV***

Awful.
Disgusting
Nauseous
I have forgotten what it felt like to have a hangover. The sky seems to be brightening up outside, but the sun is not completely out.

I am in bed, in the same clothes I was in yesterday, tucked inside the covers.  I don't even remember getting into bed. I need a cold shower and lots and lots of water. I turn over and see that it is 6:49 am.

Ugh.

This is the hardest part about relying on drinking as a form of therapy... the morning after. Dragging yourself out of bed and actually choosing to do your daily tasks, rather than staying in bed all day.

I peel off my button-up shirt and open my bedroom door to head into my bathroom across the hall. I stop midway. I should drink some water because I am seeing dots every time I blink. I open the fridge and get a bottle.

I turn.
I stop, almost spitting my drink.
I must be hallucinating because I know damn well I didn't let anyone in last night.

Someone is sleeping on my couch, their back faces me. They are wearing a black jacket, a hood covering their head.

I slowly approach the couch.

The person turns over.

That face.

It hits me.

She really was here.

Tempest lays on the couch hugging her body, all curled up into a ball. She has been here all night.

My living room is always cold. I always have the temperature low, because the dark walls attract a lot of sunlight. This is the only way I can get the best of both worlds. She must have been freezing sleeping here.

Why is she still here? Why did she stay?

Her eyes open slowly. She looks at my face, then my shirtless body and covers her eyes, "What is wrong with you," she groans, "I do not want to wake up to a half-naked man,"

She sits up, head still down out of respect.

"Malachi, can you please put on a shirt?" she demands.
She stretches and yawns.
A cute sight.

"You're in my house, angel. I do what I please," I smirk and cross my arms. My muscles tighten and I hope she glances up and sees.

"Clearly. You also like to drink until your liver shrivels up," she lays back down, her head in her arms.

I try to remember how she even got here. When did she get her? Why did she stay all night? I nudge her with my knee. She groans in response.

"Why did you stay?" I ask.

"Because you asked me to," she mumbles.

I want to die.
To literally disappear from this world and never meet her eyes again. How embarrassing. How disturbing. I cringe at the thought of asking her to stay with me in the most fuckboyish way, all weird.
Good God, why? Why couldn't You have killed me before I opened my mouth?

But, wait.
She stayed?
I simply asked her to stay... and she did.
Oh.

She rolls over on her back, her arm covering her eyes, "Are you just going to stand here all day. I am uncomfortable,"

"That's because the couch isn't mean for sleeping on, your majesty," I grab her arm, "You can sleep in my room while I shower,"

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head violently, "I am fine here,"

"Liar. You are freezing in here, besides, it's not like I am asking you to sleep with me," I pull her arm, but she doesn't budge.

I see her getting lost in the ink on my body. The red roses bleed all over my shoulder and a small portion of my chest. I let her eyes wander. I try to contain my smile. Her eyes stop. They stop at the words just under my ribcage.