She could feel the heat on her eyelids. The sun was just starting to shine through the sheer white curtains. Sarah rolled away from the bright light and leaned forward. The room was humid and sticky, and as she remembered where she was, a brief moment of panic struck her chest. Her heart palpitated and fluttered. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and wiped the sleep from her eyes. With her hand slightly shaking, she slid some of her hair behind her ear; leaving the other side hanging as she stared down at the dirty beige carpet. The panic slowly faded and her thoughts were diverted to him. She closed her eyes and succumbed to the memory of his hands lightly touching her shoulders from behind, and so softly, almost barely, kissing the back of her neck. Even in the memory she shivered.
Sarah opened her eyes and quickly jumped up from the hotel bed not wanting to think about it anymore. He was gone and she had to keep moving. That was the way it had to be.
In the small bathroom mirror Sarah looked at herself. One of the straps from her white camisole fell to the side from the top of her shoulder. It was in great need of washing. Her long, dark brown, layered hair hung in front of her face and deep, dark circles invaded what were once her bright, vivacious eyes.
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