Sequel to 'Choices'.
When he said, "It's no where near enough-" he really did mean it after all.
Hardin Scott has held a stunning record at breaking hearts, especially when he is served Theresa Young's.
Bleeding in love, Tessa has concluded that pe...
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My eyes close, and I feel a smoulder at the point of contact, as he slowly, skilfully captures my lower lip in the softest, gentlest- caressing kiss I have ever had.
I feel his minty breath playing with my consciousness, and his feather touch, tearing me up in uncontrollable longing. He glides his lips over mine, in a soul drenching delicacy, the touch warm; soft yet firm, demanding yet selfless.
My legs go numb as I gradually melt and cocoon in his arms, while he invades every corner of my senses.
I have never been kissed like this- because Hardin, feels like every drop of passion that has condensed into love. And I have never had this. Never anything else, except his.
I slowly raise my hand, resting it lightly on his cheek and I feel a tear roll down through my closed eyes as I respond to his kiss in a low reflex.
He impulsively pulls the guitar neck closer to himself, bringing me closer with it. His legs tighten on either side of mine and I shake.
Hardin feels normal. In the most extraordinary, overwhelming way. And yet, this feels so new- so mysteriously new, unnervingly foreign. He is not hating me, he is not shouting at me, he is not hurting me. He is holding me like I'm precious, kissing me like he aches for it. Touching me like I might break; again. And careful that I don't.
In this moment, I didn't care. In this moment, I love him. Even though he breaks my heart again, he will not take this moment from me. Because this time, now that I know how his lies feel like, I know this isn't one.
And that's when I knew I had you. You were done there.
My eyes open, painfully as if waking up from a dream, that I don't want to. I try to convince my head to let this go, but it just asks me if this isn't better, instead.
I pull away. And I look at Hardin, whose eyes are still closed, and breathing lightly against my face.
This is how he did have me. This is where I really was done. And no matter how- surreal this feels, I don't have it in me for another betrayal.
Hardin opens his eyes, looking at me with what I would have called love- if only he wasn't Hardin. Fuck. Don't do this Hardin.
His gaze is so intense, so- breathtaking, that I feel like believing. Why did you have to be that, Hardin. Why did you have to do that, dammit!
He sits before me, too close for me to hate, and too far for me to love- I just- I just don't know what to do; what to feel.
There is absolute silence all around, and in the comfort of it, I struggle to figure out what is right and what is wrong. Now that I'm sitting on the literal precipice of temptation, it's physical pain to hold on to my morals.
