𝑂𝑛𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔...
❝Your wife is calling. I think you need to take it, or better, you ought to leave.❞ She folded her arms, a series of goosebumps simmering over her warm ivory skin the more my intimidating strides brought me closer to her.
My sapphi...
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ღ𝓘𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓱𝔂𝓲𝓪'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥ღ
Tainted || Alina Baraz
The vast expanse of serene, azure waters stretched over the horizon and I sighed happily at the new sight.
We had landed in Bora Bora for our little getaway vacation and the salty, crisp breeze caressed my skin exuberantly.
Havier and I held hands as we walked to the entrance, and I marvelled at the extravagant setup. It was rustic but modern with elegant touches of marble and cobalt, the surroundings filled with all sorts of green palms and plants. The walls were painted a dark matte colour complimented by the rich, glossy oak furniture pieces.
There was a built-in water feature on the walls, the clear, fresh droplets rivuleting down the glowy, calligraphic letters.
Serene.
I could feel it already, so they did not disappoint.
"Do you like the place? Are you happy? If not, we can go somewhere else—" he trailed off when I tiptoed to place a finger on his soft lips.
"I love the place. Don't worry about it." I winked and his face visibly relaxed. He was doing everything in his power to restore my happiness and I appreciated it.
I was getting so much better after losing the baby. My therapist gave me a lot of coping mechanisms and I did so many other healing activities to help me get through the pain.
I had even started writing letters to my unborn baby.
I wrote one every week and our counsellor had suggested it to Havier and I. It was merely a suggestion but I attempted it one day when I was thinking too much about my sorrows, and it helped me regain my bearings on my emotions.
But Havier struggled with that. He in fact, told me upfront, that he is not going to write any letters whatsoever.
He said he had his own way of grieving which didn't involve jotting his feelings of paper. I hadn't been in the mood to argue so I left it and let him be.
His definition of grieving was working tirelessly till he was beat and exhausted to death. I didn't judge him on that either. I wanted to do what he felt comfortable doing.
I was a therapist after all, and forcing someone to do something against their will caused more harm than good.
He leaned down to kiss me softly, taking his time to sensually caress my lips. I kissed him back, giggling into the kiss while I tiptoed to wrap my arms around his broad shoulders.
We stared into each other's eyes for a while after pulling away, and I felt my core augment with heat as I stared into his deep blue eyes, half-lidded and seductive, his soft, pink lips that glistened with my gloss, and his extremely tall figure that easily towered over me.
