[1] Midnight Lips | Ghost

𝐂𝐇. 13

GHOST
༻☠︎︎༺

     It was two in the morning. I was tired. My body screamed for me to lie down, and catch a couple of hours of sleep. And what did I find when I entered my own room? A woman. Not any woman, but the very Chilean woman haunting my dreams. On her knees. At the edge of my bed. Very close to something I kept hidden for a very obvious reason.

I should have been angry. I should have been screaming at her by now, demanding answers. Because, what was she, on her knees, doing in my room?

But all I could concentrate on was the fact that this woman—the woman I've dreamed about not once, not twice, not even three times, on her knees doing not exactly what she was doing right now but close—that woman was in here, in my bedroom, where I've woken up to a fucking hard-on and had to take care of that business afterward, trying not to think about her in the process but failing anyway.

Vale... Herrera... God—Valentina, alright? I wasn't going to pretend I hadn't been waking up to her name on my lips ever since the first time I tasted it coming out of my mouth. So what? Bury me alive again. I already hated myself.

"What the fuck?" My voice in the room made Valentina swirl around. The blood from her face drained. "What are you doing?"

"Simon..." she said. No, no, no. I hated that name. I hated being related to it. I hated that I liked it whenever it came out of her mouth.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" Before I could stop myself, I was already going for her. Calm, I remembered to stay calm. Especially because I was confused. Because I didn't know if I wanted to yank her close and discipline her or throw her out of my room.

"I—" Of course, she'd be speechless. I glanced down at her hand, anxious to find that picture gripped in her hand but finding them empty instead. Thank fuck. I didn't want anyone to find it. That was the point of it being hidden under my fucking mattress. I didn't think I would have been able to hold myself back had she found it. My anger, that was, and my embarrassment and explanations and memories I kept buried for a reason.

I asked again. "What are you doing in my room, Valentina?"

Valentina swallowed, opened her mouth then closed it. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Well, you tell me." I stepped closer. "It's a simple question, and I want the fucking truth."

She jutted her lip out, and I fought very hard not to look at it. "Nothing."

Was she serious? I stepped even closer. So fucking close I could smell her scent, feel the heat radiating from her body, feeling it in my fucking bones. "I come to my room, find you sniffing around, and you're telling me it's fucking nothing?"

"What do you want me to say? It's clear that I'm looking for something."

"And what's that something?"

She thought about it for a second and I knew that whatever she was going to say would be a lie. "You're just so... reserved. I just wanted to get to know you."

"And you thought looking through my things would be a good idea?" I made the stupid mistake to take a step closer, to the point the tips of our feet touched, causing her to fall backwards on my bed.

This. This new position just... brought her face, her lips too close to my lower part, and fuck. No. Don't go there... Valentina stared up at me. Those big and round green eyes. I can't fucking stay with her staring up at me like that.

"Stand up," I demanded. My voice sounded strained, huskier than normal.

"I'm sorry, okay?"

"Get up."