Holiday Blues (ON HIATUS)

Part 4

I sat on the windowsill where I liked to stare out the window as I scribbled down bits and pieces of stories. It was around 3 in the morning, the city was quiet, the house was quiet, but my brain was a jumble of thoughts that made sleep impossible.

I glanced behind me to see Theo laying on my bed, slightly snoring.

Memories rushed through my head of the better times.

I remember that I'd be writing, trying to finish the manuscript on time and Theo would come home with a cup of coffee and a banana cream muffin. He knew I hadn't eaten anything since the moment I sat down nor had I gotten up to take a break. He knew me better than anyone and took care of me when all I did was write.

When he left, I felt that a piece of me had left with him. Not only had he taken my heart with him, he had taken my ability to put into words what I was feeling. He took my ability to write with him. He took my will to continue with this crazy dream of mine.

When I had started on this journey, he had been my rock through it all. Theo was the one pushing me to follow my dream, to write and submit my work to the publishing house. The few times I had gotten rejected, Theo had been there to pick up the pieces and push me to continue fighting.

And then he left.

He said he left because he felt inferior; that he felt that he wasn't the one for me.

"If only it made sense," I whispered into the dark room as I turned back to look out the window.

When Theo left, I made a promise to myself, that I would never rely on someone the way I did with him. As a writer, to have someone take your will to write is like chopping off your hands and tossing your brain to the trash. You're a ghost, lingering around waiting for something to come to you but drawing a blank every time. Writing was your way of expressing yourself and being yourself; but when someone takes your form of expression away, might as well shoot you dead.

It took me months to go back into writing. The first books I did after the breakup were shit, even Richard had said so. They didn't sell much, and the publishing house told me that they had been published because they were part of the trilogy I had started with them. I left that story on a cliffhanger, letting the audience come up with their own ending.

I got a lot of shit for that from my followers and I couldn't tell them that no matter how hard I tried I just couldn't write like before. That person was gone, he was killed the night Theo left me.

The next short stories that were part of an anthology were better; a lot of my followers said my writing had changed and they were glad I had gotten better.

I looked down at my laptop, the word document opened on a blank page. The line cursor blinking, waiting for something but I didn't know what.

I had sent a draft of a book I wanted to write and the publishers loved it and wanted it in a full book --- the deadline was coming up and I was sitting here indecisive as to what to write now.

I glanced back at Theo and felt the telltale pang of hope in my chest. Stupid, I thought as I placed the laptop on my lap and began to write.

I don't know how long I had been sitting there just writing when I sensed movement next to me, and next thing I knew I was scooped up and launched onto the bed; my laptop safely placed on the windowsill. I bounced on the bed a couple of times before Theo appeared above me, his hands holding my arms above my head and our chest close enough I could feel the heat radiating from him.

"What the—" Theo covered my mouth before I could continue my question with one of his hands, letting my arms go free.

"You need to sleep," it wasn't a question but a statement and he didn't budge from above me.

I furrowed my brows and stared at him, his hand never leaving my mouth. I rolled my eyes and tried pushing him off me. No budge.

He actually got more comfortable on top of me, laying his firm body on top of mine. My legs were wide open and he was resting in between them. I prayed to the heavens that I wouldn't get hard right now, I did not need him to know how much I liked the feel of his body on mine. 

We stared at each other for a couple more minutes, the whole time Theo just laid on top of me.

 No words were spoken, no sounds were made; it was just us two laying there.

Finally, Theo took his hand back but didn't move from where he laid.

"You need to move," I said as a matter of fact.

Theo raised a brown and looked down at where our bodies were connected, "you sure about that?"

I didn't have to glance down; the prayer hadn't worked and he was feeling just how much I wanted him to stay in that position.

I was about to argue but Theo stopped the words with his lips on mine. 

The kiss was soft, almost like a whisper. As if he was wishing for something but not knowing if it'd come true; his lips lingered on mine for a second or two before he dropped his head to rest on my shoulder. This caused our bodies to press together and whatever I was going to say vanished from my mind.

All I could feel was Theo's body on mine, the warmth and hardness of his body on top of mine, the small tremor as he took a deep breath softly, the tickle on the side of my neck when he exhaled the breath he was holding, the beating of his heart like thunder against mine, and the small caress his fingertips were doing on my arm at my side.

I wanted more. 

I needed more, and I knew Theo knew this.

I also knew that he was scared, and so was I.