Roses From the Devil

» six

Italics = past

"Vance, I know you're there." I grinned as I set down my hair dryer, watching through the mirror in front of me as he stepped forward from behind the bathroom door.

I saw him everyday and yet each time he succeeded in taking my breath away. His fiery hair sat wet atop his head, growing out from the sides. His hair always curled a little after taking showers, but as soon as they were dry they would go back to normal.

Vance came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my frame, nuzzling his face into my bare neck. "Am I that bad at hiding?" he asked.

"Yes, you big oaf!" I laughed, and he tightened his arms around me. "You better not have watched me shower."

He chuckled. "I guess you'll never know."

I reached up and slapped his head. "You're such a dog."

"Woof. Should I bite you then?" he teased, running his teeth along my neck.

I hit him again. "Let go of me. I need to put some clothes on." I was only in a towel and it was slipping down dangerously close to my cleavage.

"You don't have to."

I sighed. "Vance."

"Bella," he said in the same exasperated tone, but pulled away from me reluctantly anyways.

I adjusted my towel and walked back into my room, towards my closet. Vance sprawled across my bed as I closed the door behind me and pulled on a white sundress with small, pink flowers. It was one of the many things I'd picked out from shopping with Vance's mom.

When I came out, I joined Vance on the bed, settling my head on his chest, right above his heart. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close - so close I could smell the smoke that clung to his clothes.

Except...Vance didn't smoke.

Wrinkling my nose, I looked up at him. "Why do you smell like that?"

"Like what?" he asked, running a hand through my hair.

"Like smoke."

He met my eyes for a moment, then looked away. "I was out with friends. They were all using."

There was something off about the way he said that, but I didn't push it.

"We should probably go downstairs," I said then, my words muffled as I buried my face in his shirt.

Vance held me tighter. "We probably shouldn't."

I sighed and started to pull myself up, and then suddenly, Vance pulled me back down and rolled us over so that my back was flat on the bed and he was hovering over me.

I groaned. "Vance, I'm serious. Your mom is probably wondering why we're taking so long."

"Stop worrying," he whispered, and leaned down to kiss me. His hand inched its way up my thigh, under my dress and stopped at my hip.

I couldn't help but smile into the kiss, and he groaned before moving on to my neck.

So impatient, I thought, rolling my eyes as he kissed his way down my neck.

"Vance," I protested breathlessly, despite the yearning inside of me, "we need to go."

"We will," he murmured against my skin, sending shivers up my spine.