Lust

Chapter Six

~ Chapter Six ~

Wiping a tear from my eye, It’s as if there’s holes in my brain that are making me remember everything;  and thinking of the memories. As if these last few months became blank pages, leaving me confused. He just disappeared, all I wonder is if it was something I did or said.

*****

Reaching my fingers across the bed, I groggily feel for my phone across in my bed; not bothering to open my eyes. Instead of feeling a cool, flat surface of my phone, I feel a bare human chest. It suddenly got so hot under the sheets, and my skin needed cool air. The warmth underneath the sheets was too hot.

Kicking the sheets off, I open my eyes, not to see Tiny Tigs, my life sized teddy bear that serves as my cuddle buddy, instead, I open my eyes to see Zayn’s face.

At first, my heart goes into a frenzy; almost like a hummingbird’s heartbeat, but it eventually slows down to the normal pace. It was quite the sight to see, first thing in the morning. I felt a little uncomfortable, because of our close proximity, and since he wasn’t wearing a shirt….and I’m not about to check to see if he’s wearing pants….it added more to my shyness.

My initial reaction would be to kick him off of the bed, but he just looked so peaceful sleeping. His lips were slightly parted; allowing his warm breath to escape. His chest was rising in a steady, rhythmic  motion. I could feel his heartbeat, and to be completely honest, it reminded me that I’m still alive.

The heart signalises several things. One, being that you are alive and well, and second – desire. You can call it crushing, lust, love or whatever you want, but “the heart desires, whomever.”

The heart wants what the heart wants, we simply have no control to tell it who to go for, and who not to. I never asked my stupid heart to lust over Zayn.

But I can’t help it.

I lift my fingers cautiously and slowly, and bring it to Zayn’s face. My fingers feel cold against Zayn’s face, as I stroke his – now messy – hair out of the way of his forehead. His skin is smooth, and felt like silk underneath my cool fingertips. I’ve had physical contact with him many times during dance, but this time…this time felt completely different.

I feel a trail of warmth; almost like fire, trailing on my fingertips, from where I’ve touched Zayn. Sighing, I drag myself off of the warmth of my bed, with a sleeping Zayn, and head off to freshen up. Right before I leave, a hand grabs my wrist and pulls me back down. My head rests against his solid, hard chest and a pair of arms wraps around my torso, holding me closer.

“Don’t go just yet” He murmurs into the crook of my neck and I close my eyes; this feels so perfect.

“I have to…if you get up, I’ll make you breakfast.” I sigh, and begin to head off to the washroom to freshen up.

He opens his eyes, and they look hurt. I immediately feel bad…but we aren’t even in a relationship. I can’t just…sleep in the same bed with someone who I’ve known for about two weeks. Sure, last night we were just hanging out as friends. But this morning – after I touched him – I don’t think I could look at him as just a friend. If I don’t get up, I might just be tempted to turn back and jump on him, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and smooching him. These feelings, are natural feelings I can’t control, obviously, but imagine….how awkward would it be if I just did that – out of nowhere?

How do I know if he even has the same feelings? What if he thinks I’m just an annoying person, whom he has no choice but to put up with because he’s stuck with me as a dance partner? That’s probably exactly what he thinks and feels. But, I’ve never been the type of person to be scared of the ‘what ifs?’ in life. I’ve always been curious, and I’ve always needed re assurance that I’m doing things correctly, but when it comes to these ‘what if?’ questions, I don’t leaving them blank. I always feel like if I never tried, I could’ve done whatever I had to do.