Facade

45|| want

warning : sexual content
Song : After Hours - The Weekend

~ Alejandra ~

I don't know shit about science, but I feel like there has to be some scientific explanation for being able to feel tension in the air.

Not only that, — and maybe this one is a personal thing — but why different types of tensions feel different.

Anger, fear, awkwardness, lust.

Each leaves a different pressure in the back of your throat, in your stomach, a different pattern of breathing and flow of blood through your body — hot or cold.

Maybe it has to do with particles or air pressure, but I know that there is some nerd somewhere that can explain this thinning in the space between Gabriel and me as we silently walk back to our rooms.

Correction, as we silently walk back to my room.

The only times we ever let silence consume us is when the tension in the air is too thick for words to be so much as uttered.

While tensions have been high between us all night, maybe even for most of this trip, it's nothing like our typical stances of anger or awkwardness.

Even if some moments in the past had undertones of lust, they were always blurred behind the thick hatred, terror or devastation.

I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not opposed to the idea of engaging in anything sexual with Gabriel. I've maybe even thought about it once, twice, a couple dozen times.

Part of me—that will never admit this out loud—knows that I've even thought about it in times where the other circumstances should've blocked it out entirely, but didn't.

And now, something in the air between us— maybe a specific feeling that is no longer masked by anything else— is making me feel .. hot. 

My palms are clammy, the back of my neck feels damp and maybe it's just the remaining water from the pool. Or maybe it's the way my blood begins to simmer underneath my skin, making me feel a tingle along its entire surface every time he looks at me with those eyes.

Those eyes that tell me he might feel it too.

But what if he doesn't?

The building gets closer and closer, further and further away from the quiet path, only a couple of floors away from our floor.

We enter the lobby and the tingling moves to my stomach as the heat from before centralizes there, making me feel sick.

That feeling when you're anticipating something so much, imagining it for so long and knowing you're that much closer to getting it makes your body start to malfunction.

Instead of walking down the short hall under the staircase that leads to the elevator, we head directly for it to walk up.

I stop once we reach the top of the rounded flight of steps, extending my arm out to stop Gabriel beside me.

My palm presses against his abdomen, the muscles contracting under my touch. Instantly, we both look down at my hand before locking eyes a second later.

My heart stops, the heat travels just to my hand making it feel as though I'm touching a stove, but I don't move my hand away.

Something in me loves the way he makes my skin burn.

"Stay here and stay silent," I command in a whisper.

I let my hand fall, instantly missing the feeling of his body under my touch. Now instead of his smooth skin, my fingers clutch the thin material of my dampened shirt as I hug myself in search of warmth outside of him.