/imp a/n at the end/
When Ian woke in the morning, everything did not look fine. Everything looked f****d up and like a jumbled mess, weak light shining into the cabin through the small window, and every minute of past five days, every night, every second, came rushing back to him all at once
His eyes immediately shifted to space beside him. Ian could still smell her scent, thick and strong as if she left just minutes ago.
‘She left,’ He thought with a twist of his mouth.
A breath jerked from his lungs as he stood up and scrambled out of the room. The urge to find her was intensifying with each breath he took.
A fit of instinctive anger built in his chest as he ducked outside the room, their scents, thick with the airless heat replaced by her scent in the air, f**k! It was lovely–to
