августовская
спасибо **

ололоша, мр *О* кто пришееел хд

забытая., *8*

чёрная орхидея, не надо плакать оо
спасибо)

Boone shrugged. "Beats me. Who knows what goes on inside Locke's mind. When I turned my back, he hit me on the head. When I woke up, Locke was spreading some sort of drugged goo on my head."
Shannon wrinkled her nose. "Drugged goo?"
"Whatever it was he put on my head made me have some far out hallucinations. I literally found you stretched out on some rocks, torn to shreds by the monster. You died in my arms."
Shannon thought for a moment. There was one question she was desperate to ask, yet she was almost certain she didn't want to hear Boone's answer. Yes, she was interested in why Locke had taken such an interest in her brother. She wondered why Locke had drugged him. Dozens of questions tumbled over each other like a waterfall in her mind, but one in particular stood out: How did Boone feel when he thought she was dead?
She took a deep breath. Shannon had never been afraid of questions, never shied away from confrontation, and she wasn't about to start now. "How did you feel when you thought I was dead?"
He took a moment in answering. She saw anguish, embarrassment and shame play across his face. There was something he didn't want her to know, something he was ashamed to admit. She grabbed his shoulders and forced him to meet her gaze. "How did you feel, Boone?"
Boone stared straight into her eyes. "I felt relieved."
Shannon dropped her hands from his shoulders. "You felt relieved?" She repeated faintly. "What do you mean, relieved?"
"I mean, I felt free of you. I didn't have to play the hero anymore. No more riding to Shannon's rescue, no more putting my life on hold to keep you from falling apart. I was free from whatever spell you had over me."
© His Heroine by Orlando Hope

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