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T W E N T Y - T H R E E
EVA.
I stare down at Emerson's relaxed drowsing face and let out a weak sigh before moving my hand from his curls. I'm careful to not wake him as I roll his head from my chest to the bed to sit up.
I stare around his room and it looks better than I expected– a bit bigger than mine if I want to be petty. Every corner is in black except the bed sheets and it makes the atmosphere appear gloomy and moody in an Emerson Ford style.
There are shelves of books on one side and a desk next to the shelves. A smile climbs on my face as I look back to Emerson before looking back at the shelves – Ford never strikes me as a guy who enjoys reading and it comes as a surprise that he has books with him.
I gnaw on my lips as I move from the bed and take quiet steps to the other side. I pick up a book and my eyes widen barely at the cover and the label. Looking through the shelves, the rest are
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