Legacy
Ashton groaned, pulling a pillow over his head.
I stumbled to the door, squinting through the peephole. It wasn't Sarah.
I opened the door to find Mateo Velez standing in the hallway. Unlike us, he looked disturbingly put-together. He was wearing dark aviators to hide his eyes, but his linen shirt was crisp, and he was holding a cardboard carrier with four large coffees and a bag of greasy breakfast sandwiches.
"I bring gifts for the fallen," Mateo said, his voice dropping to a sympathetic hum. He stepped inside, taking in the carnage of our living room. "God, you two look like you’ve been through a shipwreck. Again."
Bab Populer