REDAMANCY [h.s. au]

20

"So do right people with wrong timing
ever get a second try?"
- unknown

⭑Harry⭑

"Is my lunch done yet?" Ivy's sweet voice cuts through my thoughts that are littered with Holland.

I hadn't realized that I was staring off into the distance, too lost in my own head, spatula in hand and a grilled cheese on the brink of burning until Ivy pulled me out of my reverie.

"Oh-" I recover and quickly flip the grilled cheese onto the clean plate on the counter. "Yep. Yeah, it's done." I was about two minutes away from the stench of burnt food filling the kitchen. It's still edible, thank god.

"I'm so hungry!" She exclaims as she settles herself onto her chair, waiting for me to serve her lunch.

Bringing it over to her, I remind her, "It's still hot, so give it a minute or two. Eat the apple slices first while it cools down."

"Okay!"

She starts scarfing down the apple as I begin cleaning up. My mind involuntarily wanders back to everything that happened last night in this very kitchen. My face grows hot remembering the ways Holland was perched on the counter with messy hair and wet clothes, me slotted between her quivering thighs, and the delightful sound of her coming undone because of me.

I stop myself from thinking any further about it, already feeling flustered with her moans echoing in my mind. I busy myself with scrubbing the dishes with scalding hot water. I barely notice the heat and how my skin turns red under it. It's difficult to notice things like that when my veins are already fiery and my mind cluttered with Holland.

One thing I've been avoiding even thinking about is calling her about coming over tonight. You'd think after the intimacy line we crossed last night would make things easier, but honestly, it's made it harder to simply ask her if she'd want to come over, have dinner, and talk-essentially a date. It feels almost like a step backwards, like we should've had that talk before anything sexual happened between us.

Which is why I've promised myself we won't have sex again until we've sorted our shit out. Things don't need to be perfect or close to it, I just want to tell her the things that have been sitting in my throat like tar for years and see where that lands us.

Once I'm done washing dishes and Ivy is finished with her food, I tuck her into her bed for her afternoon nap. She's out before I'm able to finish reading a story, so I gently peck her forehead, place the book on her dresser and quietly close the door behind me.

I find myself back in the kitchen, a bundle of nerves knitting in my stomach knowing I need to call Holland. To stall, I make a cup of tea which unfortunately doesn't take too long to make. And then I'm left standing there, phone burning a hole in my pocket.

Leaning against the counter in the kitchen, I nervously hover my fingers over the button that'll call Holland. I gulp, mentally preparing myself for the worst outcome-that being she doesn't answer or maybe even has my number blocked. She was in good spirits last night when she left, but I'll just chalk that up to the two orgasms I gave her. The spell might be worn off by now. Maybe she got home and instantly regretted it. Maybe she woke up realizing she wants nothing more to do with me. Maybe last night somehow solidified her hatred towards me. Maybe there's no future for us in this universe.