~Every heart sings a song incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet~***********************************
Aaliyah
I woke up in the morning and the first thing I saw was Ammar In his worn blue shorts and a black T-shirt. I wonder when he wore his clothes, for the last thing I remember was his bare skin against mine.
The early-morning sun hits him just right, highlighting him like he's a relaxed tiger bathing in the warmth. There's a twinkle in his eyes that makes me feel like he has a secret, but not the type kept from me. It's the type that suggests I'm in on it, and that it involves a lack of my clothes and his.
As if I spoke the thought instead of keeping it internal, Ammar lifts his shirt to scratch at a spot right above his hip bone. Oh God, he's pretty. I soak in the sight of the muscles in his abdomen like I'm a plant in the Sahara Desert, except it doesn't quench my thirst. It only causes my mouth to run dry.
He smiles like he knows what I'm thinking, and heat licks up my body and pools in my cheeks. What really causes my blood to curve into itself is the wicked gleam in his eye. It's a spark that reminded me he's done very naughty things to me last night that I've never even heard about
With his hands on my waist and our legs entwined, His gaze locked with mine and a slow grin appeared on his face. He probably would've raised an eyebrow in that annoying hot way he had, and made a dirty joke about the whole situation. But instead, he gave me a quick kiss
The room was filled with a strange vibe of awkwardness that I was sure could only be dissolved by kissing him again or running away.
I spun away from him and raced to the bathroom to avoid an uncomfortable discussion. When I came out of the bathroom, he was gone
And as I flopped back on my bed and stared at the ceiling, I finally confronted the awful, alarming, dreadful, and entirely horrifying possibility that I had been rejecting for a while. Though I could hardly accept it, I could no longer deny it. I was pretty sure I wanted Ammar the way he wanted me, and I am quite sure I have fallen in love with him
Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell.
Love is madness. when love is not madness, it is not love
Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired by the one you desire.
Love is scary, yet I cannot avoid it, for I love the feeling it gives me. I thoughtAmmar barged in, interrupting my line of thoughts.
"Late lunch at 5? It's on me" he said
Hmmmm......I thought for a while, raising an eyebrow. His patience has run out when I finally answered "I'd rather go for a walk, or shopping"
"It's a deal, see you at 5" he said excitedly.
"Alright" I replied
"I'm meeting a client in an hour, but I'll be back before 5" he said and he quickly exited the room
I met Ammar in the living room when I finished getting ready, he was all dressed up waiting for me.
Seeing him like this, dressed just for me in so patent a manner, I could not hold back the fiery blush that rose to my face. I was embarrassed when I greeted him, and he was more embarrassed by my embarrassment. The knowledge that we were behaving as if we were sweethearts was even more embarrassing, and the knowledge that we were both embarrassed embarrassed us so much that even walter the cook noticed it with a tremor of compassion.
So it is true, A man when he is making up to anybody can be cordial and gallant and full of little attentions and altogether charming. But when a man is really in love, he can't help looking like a sheep. I thought as I stared at Ammar
Giving me an utterly sexy wink, I'm well aware of his eyes on me. He led the way and I followed him
We have walked for nearly a block when he stops short and looks at me. We are in the middle of the sidewalk, face to face, between a tobacco shop and a trash can. Everything we've never said flows into the narrow space between us. I felt the passing of time acutely, like a flood coming and only so much time to gather up the most important things.
It was as though each one of us had discovered something unexpected but infinitely desirable. We were not yet sure of each other, but we wanted to be.
We had a wonderful time, and we did a lot of shopping. We returned home after dinner, I headed straight to my room and crashed on the bed to relax a bit for I was tired
Ammar came in shortly afterwards and sat next to me. When I looked at him, he was smiling down at me steadily, his eyes midnight.
My expression turned quizzical. "What's so amusing?" I asked
He toyed with a strand of my hair. "I was just thinking, After a solid week of waking up in the same bed with you, wrapped in my arms, you'd think I have grown used to it by now. But nope, Not even close. Though I'd like to get used to it, Because it's a very nice feeling" he told me
An impish grin curved my lips. "Whereas I've gotten used to being with a wicked, handsome man who keeps me so warm all night" I said with a wink
He was about to reply when his phone rang, it was zarah. He picked up the phone, Judging by his replies, I figured she invited him out and he declined at first. But she didn't give up, He left the room and they talked on the phone for about thirty minutes
He came back to the room in a rush to tell me he needed to go take care of something urgently as if looking for my permission, but too bad I am not going to give it to him. Not to meet up with that witch 'Zarah'. Ammar is mine and I am claiming him
I held him close to me, with this amazing aura around me which caught him off-guard. A girl's innocence combined with a woman's sensitivity, A charm that is alluring and attractive at the same time.
I grabbed him by the waist band, and pulled him on top of me
"Mmmm... stay" I said, my voice was barely audible, as I grazed my lips against his briefly and my head fell back against the pillow.
"You know, I'm getting used to you always being around" I said, seductively
Ammar quickly joined me in bed with absolutely no hesitation, His hand lay across my stomach as we slept soundly. I entwined my fingers with his and breathed through the warmth that seeped through my chest. Such a simple, sweet thing to do, yet holding hands in bed was incredibly intimate.
It wasn't a thing I had consciously missed, but having it now reminded me of the joy of it, that drowsy intimacy in which a man's body is accessible to you as your own, the strange shapes and textures of it like a sudden extension of your own limbs.
**********************************
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