Between the sexy music, the low warm lighting of the bar, the couples dancing around them and his hands on her waist healing her; it was making her feel some sort of way.
She tries to clear her mind and look at him but somehow just ends up more consumed in the moment, in him.
"We need to talk," Azrael says. His eyes told her it wasn't the kind of conversation she wanted to have right now. She'd never wanted a physical relationship, not until him, not until now.
She barely manages to pull herself back to the moment and from the high of his skin on hers. As intoxicating as his touch was, she couldn't let herself get swept up into him. No, she's made her decision.
"Well," she removes his hands from her hips, instantly feeling the exhaustion come back.
She looks back up at him. His eyes widen and his cheeks turn a bright red, as if just realizing where his hands were that whole time. She lets go of his hands and feels the last bits of their connection dissipate. She sighs in discomfort.
"I want to dance. I came here to have fun. We can talk another time." Her voice was soft and kind but also held a touch of sadness she couldn't completely hide.
She turns away from him and continues dancing. Don't think about him. Or his hands. Just have fun. The night is young.
A few minutes later, she is sure he's gone. The song shifts to something slower.
She looks around for a partner, only to be swept into Azrael's arms.
In an instant, an overwhelming flood of relief and all those chemicals in the brain that make you feel good crashed over her, filling her with a sense of euphoria. The rosebush in her lungs shrinks back and she can breathe freely again. She feels light as a feather. She lets out a mix between a startled scream and a content moan. Her face flushes in surprise.
"What are you doing?" she gasps, her chest rising and falling quickly.
He guides her arms to his neck, then he puts his hands on her waist again.
She looks at him then and realizes that he looks exactly how she feels. A blush on his cheeks, chest rising and falling in rhythm with her own, his eyes filled with emotions, mind both full of ideas and yet also empty of all useful thoughts.
After a minute of them standing there like that, staring into eachother's eyes, he finally breaks the silence, his voice deep and scratchy and breathless.
"You wanted to dance," he says, looking deep into her eyes as if searching for an answer to a question in his mind. "So, let's dance."
He begins to lead, pulling her closer and swaying his hips to the music, guiding her own to follow.
She lets him lead. She should push him away or say something but she can't think, she is so lost in the feeling of him. This was bad. This was very bad.
But as they swayed to the music, her hands found their way into his soft hair and she no longer cared.
Troy was out with his bad idea right now. Why couldn't she have her bad idea, too? Maybe tonight was the night of bad ideas?
But he pulls away right in that moment. She tries to keep the disappointment off her face. How could he be so cruel to play with her like that? To give her hope and then take it away just as fast-
He takes her hand and spins her before bringing her back into him, this time his grip tighter. As if scared he'd lose her if he let go.
Oh, she thinks. He wasn't playing with her. What was he doing to her? How was she so attached already? This idea is getting worse by the second.
"You look-" he begins, his voice strangled. She brings her attention back to him and away from her sane thoughts. She really was drunk on him.
"Inappropriate?" she offers.
"Beautiful. Tempting."
Tempting? What does he mean by that?
The confusion must have shown on her face because he continues.
"I mean," he pulls her impossibly closer and leans over, bringing his lips to her ear. "You make me think of sinful things," he says, his voice deep and filled with lust. So filled with lust, it shocks Lara. Was it her pheromones or the soulmate connection or-no, not that.
He pulls back, turning her again. Likely trying to hide the red tint to his cheeks. It doesn't work.
It was becoming one of her favorite colors. He doesn't look at her as they continue to sway to the music.
"Sinful things? Like what?" Lara teases. "You might need to be a bit more specific."
"Like-" he stops himself when he sees the playful grin on her face.
"Like what?" she asks again, biting her lip to hold back a smile at his embarrassed face.
"You know what," he says, turning his gaze away, the blush spreading down his neck.
A cross hangs from a silver chain on his neck, his shirt unbuttoned again. He seamed to have a habit of leaving it unbuttoned. She couldn't say she minded it. In fact, she would go so far as to endorse it.
She looks back up at him, his face still facing away, it seems the redness was finally starting to go down. That can't happen. Not on my watch.
This was bad. Instead of avoiding him, she was just getting more lost in him, in the idea of-
She uses her left hand to gently turn his head and attention back to her and uses her right hand to pull his face down to hers. "How about this?"
Then she does the stupidest thing she's ever done. Turned a bad idea into the worst idea she's ever had.
She kissed him.
To be continued...
April 2, 2024
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2024 Story Collection
Short StoryThis is my yearly challenge to myself to get better and more consistent at writing daily. Rules SEE UPDATE Important Some might be good, some might be horrible. Good thing I'm doing this for me and not for you. I'd be grateful for any feedback tho...