All Yours

XII

...

It's Saturday, and the time has come. Two days before her interview, I've decided it's finally time to start letting her see the real me. The wait has been unbearable. 

Every moment I've spent apart from her has been an eternity, gnawing at my patience. But patience isn't something I lack—I've had years to perfect it. Today, though? Today, the game changes.

She's heading to visit her grandmother later in the morning, which means I'll need to act quickly. After tracking her movements—her leaving her friends' apartment and returning home for a shower—I know my window is small but just enough.

As I step into her room, the scent of her shampoo still lingers, faint and tantalizing. Steam wafts through the cracks of the bathroom door, curling in delicate tendrils that tease my senses. She likes her showers hot—just like her.

I try the handle. Locked. Smart girl. A grin pulls at my lips; I like a little challenge. With a soft click, the lock gives way under my hand, and I push the door open just enough to peek inside.

The room is a haze of steam, blurring the edges of everything except her. Through the fogged glass of the shower, her silhouette is exquisite—every curve, every delicate line of her body. Like they were shaped just for me. 

She's washing her hair, head tilted back, water cascading over her shoulders like a lover's caress. The sight alone is enough to stir the fire in my veins, making the pressure in my pants almost unbearable. I might just have to cut my stay short and go take care of it.

Her obliviousness fuels something dark and possessive inside me. She has no idea I'm here, watching her so intimately. I let my gaze linger longer than I should, my fists clenching as I imagine what it would feel like to step into that shower with her, to replace the water with my touch.

But not yet. Not today.

I back out as silently as I entered, carefully locking the door behind me. My restraint is hanging by a thread, but for now, it holds. Soon, my dove. Soon.

~~

AURORA

Another day, another night hopelessly hungry, not knowing what to eat for dinner. Why am I like this?

It's late—too late to be loitering in my kitchen. Haley and I had gone to see a late-night horror movie, and it was all fun and games until I got home. Now, every shadow looks suspicious, and every sound makes me jump. Why do I do this to myself? I swear I just saw the boogeyman outside my window. 

Standing in the pantry for what feels like forever, I finally give up and wander to the fridge. I think I was in there for almost 15 minutes. 

My options are bleak until I spot it—a half-eaten burrito wrapped in foil. Jackpot.

I carefully open the tin foil, silently praying for no unexpected mold, when a sudden thud draws my attention down the hall from my kitchen on the far side of the living room.

I take a glance over my shoulder and when I see no one there, I go about my business preparing my burrito. Please just be the foundation settling and not the boogeyman.

I pop the burrito into the microwave and hit the two-minute button just to hear another loud thud, this time it's right above me, positioned in my bedroom.