Mich

I hear the ladder creak, and I already know it's you. I lunge for the door and manage to slam it before you can enter, my heart starting to pound. Even with the door, and the wind blowing and the smell of damp wood from the treehouse, I can still smell you. I groan, pressing my forehead against the door, wanting nothing more than to open it and take you "God... please. Please just leave."