Page 194 of Composed
Then, I hear him.
My eyes shoot open, my stomach drops, and my heart cracks into two.
The room hushes as a spotlight lands on Cole.
His fingers stroke up and down the microphone stand, my black beaded bracelet curled around the Hummingbird on his wrist.
I blink as a tear drops down my cheek.
He looks incredible up on that stage. His eyes are more alive than I’ve ever seen them, his all-black outfit, form-fitting outfit, and the tattoos living on his skin glisten under the bright lights.
He looks like a fucking star.
His voice wraps around me, tugging at my heart as he sings our song. There isn’t an ounce of fear in him. The crowd responds to every word out of his mouth, every note he hits, every sound he makes.
A glorious grin steals his face.
I shatter.
He isextraordinary.
He always has been.
And fuck if I’m not going to make sure he stays exactly this way for the rest of his life, even if it means I don't get to stand by his stand when he flies.
Chapter sixty-two
Cole • Now
High Hopes – Panic! At The Disco
Athudjerksmeawake.
“Shit.”
“Rixie?” I croak.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” she says quietly. “Go back to sleep.”
I roll over and peel my eyes open.
Low moonlight glints through the blinds as she drops to the floor and disappears.
Hardwood creaks.
“What are you doing, baby?” I ask.
She groans, her body half under the bedframe. “I dropped my phone.”
I peer over the edge of the bed, a sleep-coated chuckle slipping past my lips. “Need a hand?”
“I got it.” She winces, her arm stretching under the frame. It’s another solid minute before she slides back across the floor, with the device clutched tight in her grip. “Slippery little fucker.”
I yawn and stretch my hand onto the nightstand, blinking as a golden hue flickers alive when I slap the lamp on. “You realise it’s the arse crack of dawn, right?”
“It’s past seven, dude.” She huffs a laugh and pushes herself up.
Her hair falls to her waist in messy waves, face bare of makeup. My black hoodie swamps her frame. She settles on her knees, reaching out for me. A lazy smile curls my lips when she brushes my hair out of my eyes.
