kafkaesque: having a nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or illogical quality.
Sophia smiled softly, grateful for the darkness in the room so he couldn’t see how red her cheeks had become over the last minute. She stood back up again, combing her fingers through the length of her hair as she laid down next to him. The girl let out a soft breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. It was certainly a big step for her, being in someone else’s bed late at night. Never in a million years would anyone believe her if she recalled the events of that night, not that she really had anyone to tell nor did care to share. “I’m glad I didn’t wake you.” She spoke softly, turning on her side as she looked at the dark haired male. Her eyes ran across the sharp angle of his jaw, still managing to stand out in the dark environment.
Jasper watched as she crawled into bed with him, closing his eyes with a smile. It had been a while since he had a woman laying beside him looking for nothing but a nice chat in the middle of the night. He admired her for that, and liked the fact that she acquired self respect. “People never wake me. I’m always either awake, or half asleep.” He gave her a smile, though he was sure that in the darkness, it could not have been visible. Still, he let his eyes alter his perception of her features— her immense beauty. Jasper lay there, emerald eyes watching her, smile still intact. “What’s wrong?” He asked, knowing that there was always something wrong, even if the person didn’t wish to admit it.