𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴)

❛❛chapter thirty-nine: i love you, but it's wrong❜❜

(a/n: play Lover, You Should've Come Over during this)

The stirring in my stomach came back, but worse. He laid his back down on the bed, looking at the ceiling. I tried swallowing the knot in my throat, but it wouldn't go down. I took a few quick breaths and then turned my back to him. I'd never been naked in the same room as John, ever. An ice-cold chill went up through my spine, almost as if the veins and nerves connecting to it were frosted.

First, I peeled off my dress that had stuck to my skin. It was a weird sensation when the long sleeves rolled down my arms. It made me feel like I was a butterfly coming out of a cocoon or something. Next, my leggings were gone, which was a pain in my arse. I nearly fell over. I could hear him giggling, probably realizing I had stumbled. I frowned in embarrassment. Then I threw my leggings at him, and a wet slap came from the contact. 

He chuckled out, "Aw ya prick."

I saw his sly grin curve into the corners of his mouth. I could tell he was fighting the urge to look back at me. I wasn't sure if it was cause I was in my knickers or if it was cause he wanted to say something but liked making eye contact when he talked to me. I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if he saw me in my underwear. I mean, I would've just gone to the loo if I cared so much about him seeing me. I think he knew that as well. I also trusted him not to look. In this moment, this virtually vulnerable moment, I felt confident in him. I felt comfortable in his presence, even though in any other circumstance, with me being naked in front of him, I would've been scared shitless.

I bent down, grabbed a new set of knickers, and took off the used ones. I ran my hand across my thigh to feel the coldness of my skin from the rain. It was smooth and fridged, one of my favorite things about getting rained on. I slowly slipped on the new drawers. They were black with lacey detail on the front. One of my favorite pairs. I looked up once more, just to make sure. He didn't break his promise. A part of me kind of wanted him to sneak a glance for some sodding reason. I wanted his eyes to go over my body with boyish wonder and curiosity. I was trying to think of a way to get him to look. What are you doing? Next to me was a book, which I could "accidentally" knock over. No, daft idea. Then I got the best thought. 

"Hey, John? Do you mind helpin" me for a mo?" I called for him.

He peeked over, "Ye what?"

"This grotty thing is bein' challengin'," I turned around, "I thought since you're 'ere, just do it for me?"

His eyes widened when he realized what I was talking about. His mouth came slightly open, making him look like an idiot. His gaze dared to look down; I could see he was struggling. I was nervous yet felt so powerful.

I snapped my fingers, "Oi. Are ye listenin', Lennon?"

"Yeah, erm, c'mere," He tried to speak nonchalantly, but I could hear the awkwardness in his voice.

I nodded and started my way to him. I perched on the edge of the bed, right in front of him, and he crawled over and sat on his knees behind me. His head was close enough to my neck that I could feel his hot breath. Goosebumps perked up across my arms like millions of braille words. Next, his hands made contact with the backstraps, and I closed my eyes as he undid the hook and eye closure. When it was done, the pressure on my back was lifted, and my breasts were free. Now it was only hanging on my shoulders. I held the bra in position so I didn't flash him as I turned around.

"Ta, Johnny," I winked at him, "Now close ur damn peepers."

I stood up and took the bra completely off. He sighed while dramatically putting his hands over his eyes. He flung back down into the mattress with a humph. Then I bowed down to get the gown. I slipped the silky red mini dress over my head and let it fall down the rest of the way.