It was hot. God, this had to be a once in a lifetime event because why was England of all places hot? Yesterday it was just shy of seventy degrees but it’s pushing ninety today. Of course inside wasn’t any better; the damned base relied on cracking open a window. Absolute bollocks.
“I’m melting, Garrick!” You whine, dramatically wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. Inches away from the cracked open window, your body was draped on the peeling leather sofa.
Kyle snorts and offers a sympathetic look. “You’re not melting, per se. Just lightly…”—he pauses—“moist.”
Your upper lip curled. “Don’t describe me as moist,” You huff. “That’s just weird.” It took you a few moments more before you realized you had to do something about this. You stand up a little wobbly before moving your way to the dusty mini fridge in the cooler, Kyle in tow. “I swear, Garrick, this weather is unbelievable.”
You go to bend down towards the handle, well, at least you think you do. Your vision clouds for a second, black dots swimming around as if in a rough current. You sway. Then, your wide glazed over eyes suddenly stare up at Kyle.
His hands were firmly grasping your shoulders, your chest heaving against his. “Alright, let’s move you back on the sofa.” He quickly shushes the protesting sound you make, half supporting your weight and he leads you down.
When did he look so angelic in this light?—
“I’ll get the water,” Kyle comes back seconds later with a nice, crisp bottle. He guides it up to your mouth, motioning you to take a sip with concerned eyes. “C’mon, sweetheart. You wanted a water, right?”
You let out a shaky laugh. “I guess I did,” Coldness rushes down your throat. Immediate relief and you almost wanted to thank the heavens. “Shining knight in armor, hm?”
“I would rather you not try to fight the sun and die. I like you alive, thank you very much.”
