The Story Of An Anonymous Girl ✔

Chapter 53

TW: Mature Themes in this chapter.

OLIVER

Mia shuffles around my chest for a bit before stopping, and it takes every speck of willpower not to open my eyes and smother her face with kisses. She starts to move her fingers around my eyelashes, and it tickles my face a bit as I bite back a giggle.

Mia pushes my hair back up softly; so they aren't covering my forehead. She runs her fingers through my hair and begins to massage my head. I moan involuntarily, and Mia halts.

"It feels so good, Mia. Don't stop." I encourage her to continue. She kneels on her knees. My hands reach out of her waist, and I seat her on my chest. She shrieks, and I say huskily, "Please continue. My mom used to do it till I was eight. I had forgotten it used to feel so good." She starts her actions again, and my hands slip under her sweatshirt, resting on the sides of her stomach.

I pace them up and down her waistline, and she says sternly, "Oliver, stop tickling me." I say.

"Your skin is so soft." I state, stopping my movements.

"Yeah, because I moisturise it, unlike some people." She answers teasingly.

I respond, "It's too much work, Mia."

She asks rhetorically, "Squirting some lotion on your hands and rubbing it on your entire body is work? Seriously, Oliver?"

An idea comes to my mind. "Yeah, it is, for me. Why don't you do it for me?" I propose, smiling ear to ear.

"Smooth dumbass. Not happening, though. Let's go for a run." She says and gets up from my torso.

"Okay. I think your yoga pants are there in the closet." I reply.

"I'll be down in two minutes." She says and moves out of the room.

I speedily dress in a black tee and the same gym shorts and walk downstairs. Mia climbs down the stairs as I tie my shoes.

"Why were you wearing a blue tee and white jeans this morning, by the way?" Mia questions, fastening her sneakers.

"I thought....." I wither.

"You thought?" She demands, urging me to answer.

"Thatyoumightlikemebetterinthose." I answer hastily.

"Speak properly, Oliver." She states.

I inhale deeply and answer, "I thought that you might like me better in those."

She drops her face into her palms and drags me into her arms on a bear-hug and says, "Oliver, I love you just the way you are. You don't have to change yourself. I love you for you. Not for your body or clothes. And.....I like you best in a white tee and black jeans with combat boots." She states, beaming.

"That's an oddly specific description, but I think I should get more of white tees and black jeans." I reply, returning her smile with a toothy grin.

"You have twenty each, Oliver. I don't think you need any more." I state.

"But you like me the best in those." I reply, whining and pouting.

"Yes, I do like you in those. But that does not mean that you hoard them in your giant closet." She says seriously.

I reply, "Ugh, fine, Mia. I won't hoard them." and peck her hair, drawing her into my arms further. She manages to say, "C-Can't......b-br-breathe." and we pull away, and she covers every inch of my face with her lips.

"You are blushing." She states once she stops.

"Why did you have to point it out?" I ask, hiding my heated face in the nook of her neck.