Youforia [N.H]

38

Aycie Locke

14th July, Miami.

I've lost the ability to speak.

My organs feel like they're all jumbled up, my stomach twisting in need of whatever was happening.

I had dropped the cake off on the island in the kitchen after taking one more big bite.

Niall ducks as he walks through the doorframe of our bedroom so I don't hit my head perched up on his shoulders, his hands shamelessly moving up my thighs and massaging the skin until he's met with the bed.

"Since the moment I woke up I've been waiting for this" he mumbles, lost in his own trance.

Me too Niall, me too.

I'm caught off guard when he drops his head and his hands come back to my body and he grabs my waist, harshly pulling me off him and spinning me around before dropping me onto the bed, I yelp and the height of the drop, my body bouncing back a little as my eyes catch onto his.

That look on his face sent chills through me and I tense my jaw nervously as he stands beside the bed looking down at me, the dress starting to feel tight against my skin again as I lay there like prey, his eyes glancing down me very slowly like he was trying to memorise this moment.

His eyes leave me for a few seconds before an evil smile forms on his face and he goes to take something out his pocket.

Something being the Polaroid camera.

"No more mental Polaroids for me" he chuckles and brings the camera up to his face and my body freezes, I close my lips to swallow the nerves in my throat before parting them and breathing shakily.

A little photo starts printing and i stay looking at the concentrated look on his face as he waits for it to finish, taking the photo between his thumb and index finger before walking over to the table, placing the camera down, and locking the door besides it, striding back over with a smug grin as colour starts to show on the paper.

I'm right here but he's looking at a picture of me?

God the silence is killing me, for once I wish he'd actually say some sexual remark or tease me, literally anything. I have no idea what's going through that mind of his and it's terrifying.

I sit up and look down at the floor, fiddling with the material of my dress, twisting it and pulling it with my finger tips as he waits for his stupid photo to finish processing.

He passes the little rectangle photo to me and I look up nervously not knowing what to do. I look back down to see it and it is certainly not something id want anyone but him to see.

It was like seeing myself from his point of view, the photo being taken above and in front of me as I'm lying on the bed propped up on my elbows. The dress is riding up on my right thigh and I look completely dazed as i glare up at him, my mouth was parted and I looked nervous, my cheeks were a bright pink and my hair all messed up from his hands in it earlier. The small tiara still sat prettily on top of my head though and I looked just as desperate as he did.

I look back up at him again after seeing the photo and his eyes never left my face as he stood tall over me, wearing far too much clothing.

I'm starting to think that maybe he doesn't even know what to say, he looks speechless, lost even.

I pass the photo back up to him and he smiles cheekily at me as he tucks it in his pocket.

He places his hand behind my back and leans down, his body pushing mine down towards the bed as he pulls me against his chest, his lips already finding mine as we resume that same messy kiss from earlier.