It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Haines didn't move an inch. He sat there like a statue, even controlling his breathing as if afraid that inhaling too deeply would give Grace an excuse to squeeze herself against him again. Instead, he stared at the television with wide eyes, as if watching a horror movie rather than a romance.
"It's ending," he muttered, carefully glancing down at her.
Much to his dismay, Grace had already fallen asleep. Had he been paying attention, he would've realized she'd dozed off five minutes into the movie.
Haines blinked and tapped her side lightly. "Grace."
No response.
"The movie's over," he said. "And I'm going home."
Still nothing.
Grace remained curled up beside him, wrapped comfortably in a soft blanket, her head resting on the pillow in his lap. Haines tried shaking her gently, but she didn't wake up.
A shallow breath slipped past him, his tensed shoulders lowering. "And now, how am I supposed to go home?"
