Only, Always, and Forever You

15 - Stay

Cole's POV:

After a short drive of drunk giggles and playful teases, Amara is finally quiet in the seat beside me. We arrive at her apartment building and I park my car in the lot out back.

I get out and walk over to the passenger side door, carrying her into the building. She is still somewhat conscious, but I know that she wouldn't be able to walk, even if she tried.

"Amara, what is your apartment number?" I ask.

"I dunno," she lies with a drunk smirk, "I guess you'll have to open every door to find out."

"Amara, I'm not playing games right now," I say more sternly than before, but still maintaining a low voice.

"You're no fun," she groans and throws her head back, "14."

I ignore her dramatics and bring her to her apartment. I find a key in the little purse she has wrapped around her, and I open the door.

Her apartment is small, but it feels like a warm hug. I can tell it's well loved, and the pictures lining the wall display photos of their smiling family. I notice that the only people in the photos are Amara, a woman, and a boy. I assume the other two to be her mom and brother. No dad.

I take my eyes off of the photos and continue down the short hallway. I look into every door to try and find Amara's room, but before I do I open two doors leading to rooms that look untouched, like they haven't been used in a while.

Is it just Amara who lives here?

I shrug it off for now and enter the final room, which I know is Amara's. There are books everywhere and plants lining the windowsill. The bed has an antique-looking, brass frame and floral print sheets.

The room is arranged in an organized clutter, very maximalist, but spotlessly clean. I appreciate that.

There is a record player in one of the corners and I notice that she has stacks upon stacks of vinyls. The music ranges from Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra to Cigarettes After Sex and Foo Fighters.

I don't think it's possible for me to have any more admiration for this girl than I already do.

I lay Amara gently down on her bed and take off her heels, purse, wings, bow and arrow, and heart-shaped glasses. I set them on the small armchair beside her bed and go back over to put her underneath the bed covers.

"For someone who's been ignoring me like a meanie you sure are taking good care of me," she slurs quietly.

I didn't think she'd really notice or care that I was avoiding her, but I guess she does. I mean, you know what they say: drunk words are sober thoughts.

I try to pretend like I didn't hear what she said. She said it so quietly that I don't even think she wanted me to hear her anyway.

I wrap the covers tightly around her and make sure she's on her side so that if she throws up she won't choke.

Before I turn around, I look down at her calm face, her eyes already closed. I tuck a stray strand of her long, black hair behind her ear and kiss her softly on her cheek, to which she responds with a warm smile.

I turn away and am about to open her door when I hear a soft voice from behind me.

"Cole?"

"Yes, Amara?" I respond gently as I turn to face her eyes, which are now open, drowning me in their honey color.

"Stay," she whispers, looking at me with a hopeful, warm expression.

How can I say no to that?

I slowly make my way over to the arm chair next to her bed and sit down, making myself comfortable.

"I meant with me, silly," she drawls quietly, clearly about to drift off to sleep.

My stomach warms, but I hesitate. I wanted to keep her away from me, but if I show her I care I'll only be leading her on. I can't get in that bed with her if I want to keep her safe from me. I'll get too attached to let her go.

But what if I don't want to let her go yet?

What if I want to be selfish and have her all to myself?

I stand up from the chair and carefully get under the covers of her bed. She hums contently when I lay down beside her. Since she's on her side, she is curled up into my arm. I wrap my arm around her, to be more comfortable, of course, and pull her closer to my body.

She rests her head on my chest and I hope that she can't hear how fast my heart is beating at this moment.

I lean down to kiss the top of her head, and while doing so I'm intoxicated by the smell of her silky, black hair. She smells amazing: like flowers and sugar.

I decide to nuzzle my head into her hair, and I fall asleep that way. Usually it takes me hours of staring at my ceiling to fall asleep, but with her it's a matter of seconds.

I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be caring for her and getting attached to her when I already know how this will end. It'll end with me hurting her, and it'll end with her being broken. I can't even think about her getting hurt without becoming enraged, so I couldn't imagine if I were the one hurting her.

I know it's wrong. But it feels so right at this moment. Her warm body laying against mine, her soft breath fanning across my chest, her addicting smell drowning me in its beauty.

I can't help but fall asleep smiling.