Nothing is, but what is not // John Shelby

XXVIII

On Sunday morning Beth opened her eyes, feeling some touch on her forehead. It was John, who was just moving her hair out of the way, smiling to himself slightly.

"Good morning, sweetheart" he winked at her, his hand going down her shoulder, stopping at her waist.

"The morning just started. How am I supposed to know if it's good?" Beth muttered, yawning, and smiling back at John.

"Because you woke up by the side of the most handsome man in this city" he leaned in to kiss her.

"Where is he, then?" the girl chuckled, and John rolled his eyes. He kissed her again, his hands wandering on her skin. The skin he tasted last night. He laughed against her lips, when Beth pulled him closer, her fingers gripping his short hair.

After a moment they both pulled back, John placed a few hot kisses on the girl's neck, shoulders and collarbones.

"My sweetheart..." he murmured in a hoarse voice "Would you like to wake up like this every day?" his thumb brushed over Beth's lower lip, as she was breathing with a slightly opened mouth. Her eyes suddenly looked more awake.

"What do you mean?" she was not sure if her question makes sense after all, or maybe it was just her sleepy brain, coming up with unreal ideas.

"I mean that if I had a bloody ring with me, I would propose" John looked at her seriously.

"Now?" Beth glared at him, not believing in what she had just heard. After all, what man was proposing in bed, after a night which was still keeping the girl's lips slightly swollen, and the skin flushed from his touch? None of them were even dressed yet.

"Why not?" the man sat up, the covers moved with him.

"I thought..."

"That I only wanted to sleep with you once and leave?" he cut her off mid-sentence "Sex is not worth going to theatre" he laughed, watching at Beth's messy hair and how awful they looked when she sat up as well.

"Well, I was not courageous enough to count on more" she admitted, feeling a bit awkward because of those thoughts, but John moved closer to her, taking her face in his hands.

"And now, when you have a chance, will you marry me?" he asked. Beth's hands rested on his arms; her skin seemed to glow in the morning sun. It was so quiet in the room, that their breaths seemed loud, tearing the silence apart.

"Yes" the girl's whisper was soft, but not unsure. John moved his hand to her hip, pulling her to his lap, losing himself in yet another kiss. He loved her shallow breaths, quiet hums against his lips, and her heated skin against his. He loved when her pale lips brush against his scars, against his old wounds, making the memory of them disappear.

Beth loved his hands tightly holding onto her thighs, his hot breath on her neck, and chaotic kisses all over her face.

In the evening John walked Beth home. It was late, and the streets were empty.

"Go to sleep. You'll have enough time to sew in the morning" the man whispered into her ear, kissing her goodbye on her lips, then on the forehead.

"I was not about to–"
"Shh..." John put a finger against her lips "I won't believe you anyway" he laughed "Goodnight."

Beth entered the building, turned on the light and walked to the window. She noticed John, who was leaning against one of the street lights, looking at her window. When he saw she was inside, he nodded and walked away.