AN OBSESSION "Wednesday x Xavier"

A special Hot Tub

The blue and white tiles lining the floor felt cold against his feet, a familiar smell of ammonia and bleach lingering in the air. Xavier knew exactly where he was - the indoor pool in the basement of Nevermore's main hall. It was rarely used, save for siren students on occasions when they found the lake to be too cold. Among the many activities that Xavier's father had shoved down his throat, he'd had a short stint in competitive swimming. Backstroke was Xavier's favorite. He'd get lost in it for hours, staring at the cement ceiling and letting the chlorine burn his eyes. Past the lap pool, there was a hot tub that rarely worked and was minimally warm at best.

That didn't matter in this dream. Steam surrounded the spa, accompanying the sound of the student who occupied it softly splashing her hands in and out of the water. It was no surprise that it was her.

In reality, it was Monday. Xavier was supposed to be in European History right now, learning about the foundational background of the places he hoped to live someday. Instead, he'd been camped out in his art studio since Saturday morning, nursing insomnia by getting high and sketching the back of Wednesday's head. He'd saved his last of Ajax's sleeping pills for this morning, already planning to cut class. He hated Mondays, almost as much as he was starting to hate Wednesdays.

He didn't care if a nightmare was necessary to do it; he just wanted to see her.

"Hey," Wednesday's voice echoed in the emptiness of the natatorium as she turned over her shoulder to look at him. Her hair was down, soaking, reinforcing the idea that she'd been swimming before Xavier arrived. "Get in."

Xavier nodded, stepping in one foot at a time. He became aware of the fact that he was shirtless, how skinny he'd gotten. He felt embarrassed that she was seeing him this way, but realized that Wednesday wasn't looking anywhere but his eyes. Their stares remained locked as Xavier sunk into the hot tub, already burning long before he felt the temperature of the water.

Wednesday was wearing a white tank top and black brief underwear, basically clothed. Xavier thought she looked as beautiful as always, pale and delicate and strangely alluring. Her lips were perfectly red and plump, like she was chewing them raw for years before they met, perfecting the color just so he could fantasize about them.

"You're so far away," Xavier could barely whisper. He felt as though he was on a stage, before a large audience, afraid to say the wrong thing or fumble his lines. The hot tub was hardly sizable, but the distance between them felt like miles. It took all his focus to not stare at the way her shirt was sticking to her skin, or how her neck was beginning to flush from the heat. She looked just as pretty with some color.

"Come closer then." Wednesday's tone was characteristically flat, but her eyes were changed, open and inviting in some way they hadn't been before.

Xavier crossed the space between them in a single stroke, his hands resting on the outside of her respective legs. He spread the fingers of his right hand apart so that his thumb brushed her thigh, looking up at her. He settled below her, floating in the deeper part of the hot tub while his hands settled on the seated portion that Wednesday occupied. Wednesday stared back, enjoying being above him for once.

Xavier took a deep breath before ducking his head underwater, taking Wednesday by surprise. She drew back briefly as he came up. "Now my hair's wet, too," he said, almost bashfully, moving his right hand to push his hair back. Wednesday immediately noticed the absence of his thumb against her.

She watched the drops of water drip down the crevices of his face, slowing as they crossed his eyes and speeding up to a race down his cheeks. She paid special attention to his lips, how drenched they were, imagining how they'd taste like chemicals and salt. The thought made her whole body pulse. He was vulnerable at this moment, staring up towards her through his eyelashes, which were just as wet as the rest of him. She wanted to eat him alive and bet that he'd let her if she asked.

When Xavier moved his hand back down to reposition himself, Wednesday grabbed his wrist. His only reaction was the turning of his head, challenging Wednesday to her next move as though he was a chess piece and she was the grandmaster.

"Touch me."

Xavier obeyed, a kingpin moving closer to the eighth row of a chessboard. He used his arms to push himself higher, bringing his left hand to the right side of her face. Wednesday leaned back so that Xavier could fall against her, bringing his right hand to brush against the cotton fabric of her underwear. Even in the water, the contact alone caused Wednesday to gasp.

"Don't be scared," he whispered, biting her earlobe before moving his lips down to mark the rest of her neck. The sensation caused her to roll her head back, Xavier's left hand sliding from her cheek to find purchase on her breast, pinching and rolling in a way that made her back arch. She hadn't been scared for a second.

He moved timidly, shyly, like he was going to break her. He knew she wasn't that way, that she would potentially even prefer a degree of roughness, but he couldn't negate the preciousness he regarded for the girl he held. If the water wasn't so hot, he knew he'd be shaking like crazy, and maybe she'd make fun of him for it. He wouldn't mind.

"Can I pick you up?"

"How?"

"Just give me permission."

"Yes."

Xavier dipped his head back underwater, locking his hands under her legs and onto her lower back. He lifted her out of the water, balancing each of her thighs on his shoulders. His face was directly between her legs, barely able to make out Wednesday struggling to keep herself balanced on the tile. The sight may have been one of Wednesday's favorite things she'd ever seen.

"Don't slip." Xavier's left hand attempted to reach behind Wednesday's back to pull her forward, trying to offer support.

"It's too wet," she whispered. She could feel him smile against her thigh when she said this, which made her blush. He pushed her underwear to the side, working his way closer through small kisses.

"Yeah, I know."

Wednesday jerked up, unable to discern where she was. Her hands made contact with the familiar wood of her desk, and the first sight to her left was Enid, smiling like crazy. Shit. She'd fallen asleep in class.

"Having a good dream?" Enid asked.

Wednesday tried to discern whether this was stated in an accusatory fashion. Had she been making noise? Her cheeks were burning. She couldn't stop thinking about Xavier's teeth against her thigh, about how much pressure she had felt, how they hardly even got started. It was the most vivid dream she had experienced, and if she hadn't been more well-trained, she may have misinterpreted it as a vision. She felt as though she had been in control of her actions, dictating her dialogue in a way that she rarely had the capacity to do in a dream state. "What makes you say that?" She hissed, keeping her tone low to avoid the attention of their professor.

"I've never seen you look so peaceful when sleeping. God, you were almost smiling!" Enid scrunched her nose, clearly entertained. "I never get to see you sleep! You always fall asleep after me and wake up before me."

"You like to watch people sleep?" Wednesday sneered. Somehow, she could feel herself blushing even more.

"What? Are you the only one who's allowed to have a creepy side?"

"Every side is my creepy side." Wednesday diverted her attention back to her desk, slamming her notebook open. A few peers turned to look, but they were largely used to Wednesday's random displays of aggression. Wednesday wasn't focusing anyway.

She decided she was skipping the next period, and the one after. She knew exactly where to find Xavier. Something had to be done, some conversation had to be had - before Friday, she hadn't been cursed with these damned dreams. She wasn't mad about the events of the party. She was only upset at how much she wished the dream had been real, at how angry she was that she didn't know what his moans sounded like in real life.