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82. Getting back

Alexander's POV

    I expected a pretty little face that seems full of content and peace, cheeks that has dried tears, a little smile on those swollen lips since we did some rough things last night, and a messy black hair that falls all over the white pillow. All I got is an empty bed whose sheets are dampened. I got up abruptly looking around the room. There is no sight of her. I decided not to overthink even though I am already going hysterical. I knock the bathroom door. I turned the knob and opened it. 

    I could smell her usual lavender body wash. The room has been just used that the moisture of the shower is still on the glass. I imagined her in an apron trying to make something delicious which only turns out into a roasted, wasted dish. I smirked thinking of the scene and another good fuck if possible, little harder than last night. She would feel wonderful on the kitchen island, if and only if she is present. 

    Panic, fea
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