All this Time

Gabby

9th February

Nathan and I were on the beach for hours. He read to me until dusk turned into dark and he could no longer see the pages.

His words scrawled along my skin, his voice hummed new life into my heartbeat. I'd wanted him to read to me from the moment I moved in with him and when I saw the chance, I took it. I'd never been afraid to vocalise what I want from a man, but I hadn't always received what I wanted either.

With Nathan, he'd proven he'd do what he could to see me smile.

I'd never felt safer than I did on that beach, caged between his arms and legs, his heartbeat beating against my back, in time with the frantic pounding of my own.

It all felt so right, it felt like he could have set those stars above us, placed the grains of sand beneath our feet, created the waves in the ocean with the breath of his own lungs.

The orchestration was too beautiful, too enchanting, it bewildered me that such serenity could happen on chance.

Moments like that are written on twin hearts, to exist at just the right moment.

As we creep back into Dallas and Drayton's house, I'm not sure what to make of the afternoon he planned for us. Or didn't plan. It seemed like we just went with the flow and I can't remember the last time I had that much fun, or felt that content.

Nathan holds his phone light out in front of him and I keep close to his back as we tiptoe through the dark house.

Dallas text me earlier and said she'd fed Lydia dinner and put her to bed. I'm sure she had an amazing time with her aunt and uncle.

Without looking behind him, Nathan reaches back and slips his fingers into mine as we go up the staircase.

I think I might be falling in love with this man.

Dallas and Drayton are on the opposite end of the hall, there's no light coming from under their door, nor a single sound. As usual, I peep inside Lydia's bedroom and check on her. Nathan follows me. He doesn't let go of my hand as I tuck her in and kiss her head.

And then before I know it, we're standing outside of my bedroom door.

"Thanks for this afternoon," I whisper, so as not to wake anyone up. "I can't remember the last time I had that much fun."

Nathan tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingertips leaving a trail of ignited nerves down the column of my throat as his lingering hand slips away.

"What was your favourite part?" I ask, desperate to make the night last longer.

His jaw flutters, his thick lashed gaze getting heavier as he leans a shoulder against the wall and folds his arms. "There was this moment on the beach," he whispers. "When the setting sun made your eyes glow like fire and you smiled at the sea and I thought, damn, this women looks like an angel, too beautiful for a world like this."

There's something surreal about Nathan and how he talks to me, the confidence in which he expresses how he feels. Sometimes he can be so poetic and I don't think it's intentional.

Leaning forward isn't really a choice, it's a pull, a current that goes against the wind.

Nathan's eyes move from mine, to my mouth and back up again.

"I told myself I wouldn't kiss you again," I whisper so quietly that it's barely a sound in the dead quiet hall. "Unless you could prove it would mean something."

He leans in, his nose grazes mine and I buckle. "You think it wouldn't mean something?"

His hand slides up my nape and into my hair, foreheads pressed together as his mouth brushes mine, barely touching.