Champagne Problems

Sets Of Three

I lay there, curled up beneath the linen material of his duvet as Theo joined back in the room with a fresh mug of coffee.

"One large mug of coffee, with three teaspoons of sugar and a splash of milk, for the pretty lady." He said, handing over the coffee and sitting down beside me with a mug of his own.

"Heavenly," I said, sipping the hot coffee as I clicked the movie we were watching back on.

As the screen pans over to Blake Lively, I glanced over at Theo, watching him pretend to be interested in the romantic fantasy film I know for sure he couldn't care less for. I study his features, his messy black hair, sagey green eyes with long lashes I've always hoped I had and a sharp jawline with a dusting of stubble across it. I lowered my gaze, following the veins of his right arm to the large hand that circled around my thigh, his thumb drawing lazy circles over my skin. I returned my gaze to his face, his green eyes now turned on me and a lazy smile crept up his face before saying, "I love you."

"I love you too." I replied demurely, quickly looking away and trying to refocus on the film. I can feel the heat of his stare, flickering over my face and gliding up and down the top half of my body. I wondered if he felt it too when I was staring at him moments ago.

"Why do you never say I love you first?"

The question caught me off guard. I was half expecting him to pull me onto his lap and start making out like what he normally does when he stares at me, or just pretend to take interest in the film we were watching. 

I turned to him, tilting my head.

"Don't do that, Mallory."

"Do what?"

"Look at me like that with your eyes and tilt your head. It's every man's weakness when their girl does that." Theo explained, placing his mug on his bedside table before looking back at me, "well?"

"Well?"

"Why do you never say I love you first?"

"Does it bother you?" I asked, draining the rest of my coffee from the mug before rolling the cup between my hands. I focused my gaze on my hands, scared to look up because I knew he would be staring right through me if I do.

"Honestly?" Theo leaned back against the headboard, "Yeah."

To keep it short and sweet, I don't think I was told "I love you" enough growing up. Not hugged enough or "I'm so proud of you, Mallory." whenever I came home with an A on my report card or after a milestone. Growing up with divorced parents, where I was sure my mum loved me - just too overworked to remind her child how much she is loved and cherished - and a father who would drop me off at his sister's house and promptly forgot about me whenever it was his weekend to look after me, the concept of love, intimacy and relationships was foreign to me.

No healthy relationships to watch and learn and to form now that I'm older. No longer in contact with my father. Barely speaks to my mother.

Theo was my first boyfriend. I've never had a boyfriend or a guy before him, not even a situationship. I feel like I was pushed right into the sea of love, intimacy and relationships I never quite knew, immersing myself with deep, complex feelings and emotions I never properly experienced or seen before. 

"Mallory," Theo grabbed the mug out of my grasp and placed it beside his, "look at me."

I looked at him. I find him intently staring at me still, a soft look casted across his face as he pushes a strand piece of hair out of my eye and tucked it behind the shell of my ear. His thumb brushes over my cheekbones before pulling his hand away. He intertwined our fingers together.

"I don't know how to," I said, so quietly it barely registers as a whisper but he knew what I said.

We stayed silent for a bit, me watching his thumb draw patterns on the top of my hand and him still watching me so intently. I wanted him to say something, to slice through the silence of vulnerability and delicacy I was feeling. 

He squeezed my hand three times.

Sets of three.

"It means I love you," he explains, squeezing my hand three times again, "A set of three."

"Do you have to squeeze your hand three times to say I love you?"

"Normally yeah. But it can be anything for us."

I pondered on that, humming quietly before I plopped myself onto his lap, quickly murmuring in his ear, "what about this?" and kissed him three times on his neck.

I heard a sharp intake of breath, his hands gently gripping my waist.

 I felt the slight quiver from his lip against my own before pressing them against his. It was slow at first, before he slid one of his hands over my jaw and into my hair while the other slid up beneath the flimsy satin vest I have on. I shivered, revelling at the feeling of rough hands against my skin. He playfully bit my bottom lip, causing me to gasp and he slowly slips his tongue inside my mouth. 

I pulled away after a while, my face flushed as I watched him smirk at me. I hesitated for a moment, my breath still shallow as the air between us grew thick with tension. His smirk lingered, a mixture of confidence and flirt. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, still tingling from the taste of him, and the pull to close the distance between us again was almost irresistible.

"I didn't come all the way here just to make out with you, you know?" I murmured, flicking the tip of his nose

"Aw, why not?" His hand in my hair tightened slightly, pulling me closer once more. His eyes stare back into mine, searching for something - permission, desire, or maybe just a reaction. My heart was pounding in my chest as I felt the heat of his body pressing against mine. He dipped his head, grazing his lips along my jawline.

"Because I wanted to watch this movie with you," I breathed out, "plus it's a Blake Lively movie. They're my favourite."

"I don't care about Blake Lively." His mouth found the sensitive spot just below my jaw, and I couldn't help the soft noise that escaped me. He pulled away again, brushing a strand of hair out of my eye and behind my ear, his touch gentle. "You okay?" he asked softly. Giving him a quick nod, I leaned back into him, wrapping my arms around his neck as his lips founds it way back onto the soft skin of my neck.

♡ ♡ ♡ 

We both lay on the crumpled bed sheets, bodies heaving from exhaustion. I turned to face him, watching his chest rise and fall, deep in sleep. I reached forward to touch the sharp line of his jaw, tracing along the bone before moving my finger to his hand, folding my hand around his before squeezing it in a set of three.