BREWING STORM

NARRATOR'S POV 

                The night was silent- eerie yet peaceful. Sitting in the wooden chair next to the king-size bed, Rachelle held Alexander's hand. Her warmth providing all the comfort he needed. Black orbs fixed in his form, staring intently, longingly, lovingly.

Without much thought, her soft lips planted a kiss in his hand, which she holds. Long black lashes flattering as her eyes close.

Noticing the sweat that's building up in the blonde's face, Rachelle quickly took a fresh towel to wipe it away.

Suddenly, her mind wandered off to the events earlier- after the assailant had left.

From upstairs Andrea came running, "What happened?!" were the only words she exclaimed.