Along came Avery

2 9 . b u r n i n g l i n g e r s

My shoulders tense up at my act being caught red handed.

I slowly put his phone back where it was as I shake my head. "Oh, it was... I thought it was ringing. My bad."

"Instead of calling me, you go to answer it?" I can hear his feet move closer towards me.

"Act of kindness." I get up straight and turn, attempting to take a step back at how close he is right up in front of me, but instead, my bed prevents that and rests against the back of my legs. I spare him a second of a glance before dropping my eyes down to his chest in shame. "Sorry."

"I'm sure you're not hard of hearing." He answers. I'm not surprised that he raises his hand right to my jaw, fingers gently pressing against the skin before he tilts my head up to his. His face is blank, nonchalant but I can see, or I think I'm seeing, the pain or hurt in his. "Don't apologise about something you meant."

I nod, gulping with my eyes staring into his pupils. "Right."

I'm weak in the knees, and I can't even be surprised. I can only embrace it, really.

"Why were you with my phone?"

"You got a message. I just... wanted to see who it was from. That's all." I mutter right back at him. "I then saw... your Home Screen."

After his blink, he lowers his hand from my jaw right to my throat. It's not suffocating like day before yesterday, but it does make my heart beat faster at the thought of ending me here, in an enclosed area, with no one to help.

Not that I'm even fighting against him. I'm hopelessly lost in the colour of his eyes. My hands even grip the material of my dress anxiously, yet I make no move to pull away. Why would I?

Why wouldn't you?

"You..." I whisper, humming a bit when he slightly squeezes his hand. "You kept those pictures."

"Why wouldn't I, Zinhle?" He whispers back, closing his eyes before he lowers his head right until his forehead is pressed against mine — including his hair; matter of fact that's pressed between our forehead, and the ends of his strands tickle against the bridge of my nose, the inner corners of my eyes and above. "It's always good to have evidence."

My eyes drop right to his lips, flush and smooth-looking, and he cradles his bottom lip between his set of teeth.

Even with the red flags lighting in my mind, my right hand lets go of my dress and raise it up with hesitation right to his face. Gently, my hand presses against his cheek — it's lukewarm, smooth even — and take in air. Five years ago this would have never happened, but now... touching has become a part of him, and it's almost like it's rubbing on to me.

"She did like taking pictures, so I guess it makes sense that you have them."

He releases a short breath, almost like he let out a breathless laugh. Then, his hand moves from my neck. It doesn't even register until it's already happened, when he takes hold of my other hand on my side and moves both hands right to his shoulders. Then, he bends down and both his hands grip the back of my knees before he lifts them up, lifts me up.

I make a sound of surprise, gripping onto him since I'm startled by the movement, but before I can insist he puts me down, he turns us both around and then lowers himself onto my bed, with me sitting right on top of his lap.

"W-wo—" I try getting off, but his hands shift right under my dress and onto my thighs, skin on skin, and he grips so I cease my movement. My knees press against his sides like I'm trying to close my legs. I shake my head as I lift my eyes to his. "This isn't right!"