•MAROON• .RIN ITOSHI.

|Chapter Fourteen|

When the silence came, we were shaking blind and hazy
How the hell did we lose sight of us again?

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The way she looks at me. That effects me more than anything. That wary look—as if I am going to hurt her. I never like it— those eyes with full of suspicion and distrust.

How she trembles out of frustration and fear but still holds her tears. It bothers me.

All I ask for her love and trust in me. I can never imagine of hurting her. That day would be my last on this planet.

.|†|.

The big brown table. In the middle of library hall. Me, sitting on the top of it, while Rin stood in front of me. His hands on the sides. Staring at me with eyes full of desire.

"Please, let me touch you. I can barely stand it now." How desperate his voice is coming out. His hands moved to my waist, while brushing his lips on my neck. The shakier I breathe, the weaker I get. My body—loosing it's control?

"It has been a week long, sweetheart. I am dying to feel you." His nose brushing on my cheek, whispering, while breathing heavily. His hands moving down my spine, making my bone chill.

The lump in throat, making it difficult for me to speak. He yanked me towards him, roughly, his hands on my hips.

I gasped, clutching over his chest. His hands slide up to my hands, in a leisure motion, putting my arms around his neck. Slowly taking his hands back, running through the frame of my body to my waist. 

His touch—taking my breath away.
His words—shattering me into pieces.
His hands—planting my head above the sky.

My hold around him tighten pulling him closer. When I hear him chuckle, i realized—i gave him another reason to tease me.

He tilted his head, to look at me. "Am I making you desperate?" I bit my bottom lip, closing my eyes, in frustration."

"You're overwhelming with your silliest thoughts. If you're not going to stop with those—" I came up with the quickest wittiest answer I can, but he cut me out when felt his lips on mine.

Not kissing, exactly.

His lips tugged over my bottom lip. Nibbling on, softly. Shutting me down. He exactly knows what he's doing. The feeling fluctuating between pushing him away or pulling him closer. My legs coiled around his waist and fingers in his collar.

My breathe got heavier, meeting with his eyes. My hand around his neck and another on his waist, in almost a protest but when he leaned in further, brushing his lips against mine—as soft as feather.  For some reasons; I wanted him to just press his lips on mine. The first time in my life, I wanted him to kiss me more.

The feeling was frustrating.

I want to feel his lips against mine. I have sure gone insane. I breathe out shakier, my hands slide down curling my fingers with the fabric of his white shirt over his shoulders. He chuckled, parting away, staring at me. The rush of blood on my face—was definitely going to make me feel devastated.

"You know what you doing, right?" He asked. There's no need to see his face, I can feel his smirk. The authority and the power is coming out of his throat—i wish I could slit his tongue. I put my eyes down, not wanting to look at him. His hand moved closer to my face, about to lift my face, which I slapped away eventually.

I put my feet down, uncoiling from him, on the ground. When he wrapped his fingers around my ankles, pushing me back on the edge of the table, which I just climbed down. "Stop." I growled, when his body slammed against mine, vigorously wanting to get close enough.