Blame Gravity

Chapter 13*

When I wake up, I notice a strange sense of warmth. I slowly open my eyes and see James' peaceful face, sleeping. 

What's happening? Oh, right, we're in London. I realize how close his face is to mine. I could kiss him if I wanted.

Wait.

I could kiss him if I wanted.

That means he's close to me. Way too close. Less than two feet.

I shriek and scramble away from him, and he wakes up and screams as well.

 "What the fuck, Canmore?" he yells. "I thought we'd stay two feet apart!"

"Well, that's what I thought, but apparently someone had different plans!"

"I didn't do anything! This is on you!"

"That's not true!"

He sighs and sits on the side of the bed. It's silent for a moment, but then, he mumbles something.

"This is the best sleep I've had in a long time," he quietly confesses.

I think it through. I mean, I haven't been able to sleep since-... since...

"Same," I whisper.

We leave it at that.

The day itself is quite boring. We go to have breakfast at a café and we go to see a famous library. It's beautiful, and it'd be a better experience if James wasn't there to annoy me.

When we get back to the motel, we get ready for bed again, and this time, we swear to stay on opposite sides. 

I have a very... uh... exciting dream, again, and it feels so, so good. I wish it could be real.

I wake up to James giggling. Ugh, I hate that sound. 

"What's up?" I ask, trying to contain myself. Why do I always dream things like this?

"Is there a reason as to why you were mumbling my name in your sleep?" he asks, smiling.

Fuck.

"No reason! Goodnight, Miller!" My cheeks are burning and I turn around. 

He grabs me by my waist and pulls me in. 

"'Harder, James!'" he quotes, laughing idiotically. 

I try to free myself from his grip, trying to think of a way to kill myself as painlessly as possible, but he holds me tight and kisses me, catching me by surprise. I kiss him back. I get so aroused at his touch, it almost seems impossible.

"I've dreamt of you as well, you know," he whispers in between kisses. "Want it to come true?"

"Yes," I breathe into his mouth. 

He pulls away. "Tell me what you want to do."

I blush, too shy to say the words. Instead, I kiss him and push my hips to his. I hope he understands. 

He rolls on top of me, and I feel something hard pushing against my inner thigh. 

Finally, he grabs a condom out of his wallet and puts it on. 

He slides it in, and I feel like crying. I missed this so much. I've longed for him every night, and now it's finally happening.

"Fuck," I sob when he starts moving inside me. 

"You good?" he asks, breathing heavily.

I nod and kiss his neck. He releases a quiet moan at that, and he starts going faster.

"Please don't stop," I cry. 

He growls and goes faster. He leans on the bed with one hand, and with the other, he starts stimulating my clit.

I shriek at that, surprised. 

"Ssh..." he groans. "Does that feel good?"

I nod, unable to speak. I kiss his neck again, and when I reach a certain spot, he moans "Fuck" under his breath. I decide to keep going there, and in a few minutes, he finishes, but he keeps going until I cum, screaming his name over and over again. He puts a hand on my mouth.

"They're going to hear us," he whispers.

Finally, he rolls off of me and walks to the shower to clean himself up. I stay on the bed, trying to recover from whatever the fuck just happened. I am unable to catch my breath, and I hate that he has this effect on me. 

 I finally break down crying. When he comes out of the bathroom, he looks surprised, and he walks over to me. 

"Are you okay?" he asks. He hugs me and wipes off my tears with his hand.

I nod, unable to stop crying. Why am I like this?

"What's wrong?" he asks. 

I want to tell him. I want to tell him I hate this, I hate his hair and his laugh and his stupid jokes and I hate that he's better than me and that I hate how he's so fucking hot and that he's not mine. Instead, I just shake my head and bury my head in his shirt.

I fall asleep on his chest, feeling perfectly safe and warm.