Oxygen 5
I woke up in Staniel's older sister's bedroom, the bright pink wallpaper screaming at me like it always did. I’d slept over here so many times, it was basically my second home—more mine than hers, really, since she’d been abroad since secondary school turned into a permanent divorce-fueled escape with their dad. Groggy, hungover, head pounding like a drum, I still knew exactly where I was. That wallpaper was unforgettable. Read Part Four Here A soft knock pulled my eyes to the door. "You up?" Staniel poked his head in, and our gazes locked. "How could you tell?" I croaked, voice scratchy like I’d swallowed sandpaper. He chuckled, stepping inside. "The bedsheets in here are loud as hell. You roll around like a wrestling champ in your sleep, so when you start shifting, it’s like a siren." "Not creepy at all, Stan." "Never said it wasn’t. Just means I know you." He smirked, leaning against the wall. "Well, good morning,...
