Sparring Partners [18+]

Chapter Thirty-Two: Please

It was with a giddy enthusiasm that I led Markus to my flat, dragging him behind me by his hand as I walked at an unusually fast pace. I was far too impatient, and far to greedy to have this man all to myself. I wanted him now, and the fact that I had to endure the length of this admittedly short walk was painful. I was itching in impatience, barely able to contain myself as my fingers threaded tightly in his and forced him to pick up speed just a step behind me.

"You're bouncing," Markus remarked in an amused drawl, his eyes alight with something that rivalled my own excitement; and he was right, I was bouncing, but it almost seemed like he was too. He was feeling it too then, this energy pulsing between us. My every step was filled with a level of excitement I couldn't recall having felt in a long time. Just glancing at his face was almost enough to distract me from my goal; instead of rushing back to finally confess my all consuming feelings to him, I instead wanted to take a second to grab his adorable little face and smush those perfect features between my hands. Is that crazy? Am I acting a little unhinged right now?

"I'm bouncing 'cause I'm happy, is that against the rules?"

He rolled his eyes despite the wide grin stretched across his mouth. "Yeah, I'd rather you be bawling your eyes out," he retorted sarcastically.

As if he summoned them, and despite the wide beaming grin I was sporting, tears did indeed fill my eyes.

Markus expression turned bleak within seconds. "Woah, fuck, Dais, I was joking."

"I'm just feeling overwhelmed," I laughed, wiping at my cheeks. My grin never wavered, nor did my pace slow. I was still as determined as ever to get home. I had a dozen plans - all woefully ill-prepared and last minute - circling my brain, but I was certain of one thing, I wanted us to be alone in the privacy and comfort of my flat when I explained to him the full extent of my feelings and assured him I did in fact want us to be exclusive. I never wanted him to feel anxious about the state of our relationship, or to feel unsure about whether or not he could talk to me about his desires. I was sure that it was his anxiety and my own cowardliness towards vulnerability that had prevented such a conversation until now. "I'm not crying crying."

"Right. Of course." He appeared awfully concerned, frowning at me as per usual, and very obviously not placated at all by my words.

"I'm just really, really happy. And when I'm really happy I cry," I explained, still crying. I'm going to have such a terrible headache if I don't stop now. "When I feel too much of anything I cry. It's like my body doesn't know how to process any emotion and it's default is to just try and let it all out. Very inconvenient when I'm too angry and arguing with someone - the tears kind of undercut my ability to intimidate anyone."

He still looked concerned.

"Seriously, I'm fine." Finally at the corner of my building, I came to a stop swinging our joined hands between us. "Trust me, I'm good. More than good. Are you good?"

"Yes..." he drawled slowly, as if not quite sure if he were telling the truth.

"Good." I rolled up onto my tiptoes and placed a quick, chaste kiss just below the corner of his mouth. As I stepped away, his arm curved around my waist and pulled me back to him. Our bodies pressed flush together, and an embarrassing squeak escaped me at the suddenness.

Markus laughed as he cupped the side of my face, dipping his head down slowly to press his mouth against mine in a deep, intimate kiss that had me clutching at the fabric of his sweatshirt in fear that I would melt to the ground otherwise. When he pulled away, only enough to rest his face into the curve of my neck, his lips pressed against the sensitive skin, it drew a breathless whimper from deep inside me. Holy shit, forget date, I need to marry this man ASAP.