His lips were soft at first, before a roughness took over and he pressed his body to mine. My hands instantly go to his hair as he cups my cheek with his hand as the other turns into a fist next to my head.
A sigh leaves his mouth, like this is som...
"I am out with lanterns looking for myself." - Emily Dickinson
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I get into the car just as Preece shoves his key into the ignition, driving off. I see him glance to the dashboard before he huffs in annoyance. He pulls his hood onto his head, before turning onto a different road.
"I have to fill my car up with petrol." He mumbles, gesturing to the dashboard. I stay silent, leaning my head on the window.
One thing my childhood taught me was that I hate arguing with people. Sometimes I can't help it, but when I get myself into a situation where I have to argue my way out of it, it makes me more upset than angry. That's why I wanted to cry right now. Or, maybe that's just the hormones.
And especially, I hate arguing with Preece. For some reason, it fills me with so much guilt that seeing him ice me out or upset makes me feel worse. It doesn't feel like our arguments usually do. This one feels worse. It feels... permanent. It feels as though, as soon as I re-do my chemistry exam, I'll never see him again. I don't think I'll be able to deal with that.
But, at the same time, I want Preece to open up to me. I want him to tell me all his secrets and trust me to keep them safe. And, if he doesn't feel comfortable telling me, then there's something not there for us. If there's something not there, there's no point carrying on this game if he's already tired of playing. Maybe, I'm tired, too. Tired of chasing a ball that's already lost all it's air. It's like watching your favourite football player slowly become a shell of themselves and not being able to help because I'm just a bystander. Someone who's watching it all happen with no power to stop it and make it right.
That's what it's like trying to keep up with Preece. Eventually, it's not going to end well.
Preece parks at a petrol station, not saying a word as he clicks a button and leaves the car, slamming the door behind him. I watch as he puts petrol into his car, before walking into the station to pay for it.
As soon as he's back, I sit up straighter and pull the clothes in my hands to my chest. Preece sits back in his seat, leaning the back of his head on the cushion, closing his eyes.
"What's wrong?" I ask, tilting my head towards him. Preece looks over at me, his eyes scanning over my face. They land on my lips, and Preece sits up, his hand gripping the steering wheel.
"Everything." He murmurs, before shaking his head, gripping the back of my neck and pulling me in for a kiss. I'm taken aback, because we just ended things, but that doesn't stop me from curling my arm around his neck and kissing him back. His tongue clashes with mine, and his hand is gripping my thigh, pulling me over the consoles and onto his lap.
Both my hands are on his neck, and his mouth is devouring me and his fingers roam my body and I'm vastly conscious that it's early morning and there's quite a few people around us.
