Tangled In Time

Threads Of Silk And Certainty

The silk of my pyjamas brushed against my skin as I paced the room, the faint rustle barely audible over the sound of my thoughts. The soft lamplight cast warm shadows on the walls, but the cosy glow did little to settle the restlessness that coiled in my chest. I tried sitting, then standing by the window, staring out at the moonlit gardens, but my mind wouldn't stop replaying the events of the evening.

The knock at the door was unexpected, sharp against the quiet, and it startled me enough that I froze mid-step. My pulse quickened as I crossed the room, hesitating just long enough to steady my breathing before opening the door.

Blake stood there, his shirt slightly untucked, his hair a little dishevelled. He looked like he'd been through a storm—not in the physical sense, but in the weight he carried in his expression. He met my gaze with something I couldn't quite place: an apology, maybe, or an unspoken explanation.

"I'm sorry," he said simply, his voice low, as though he'd rehearsed the words but still wasn't sure they were enough.

I stepped back to let him in, and he moved into the room with careful steps. His presence shifted the air, making the small space feel suddenly full. He stopped just short of the centre, turning to face me as I closed the door behind him.

"I didn't expect her to come back... especially then. I cant imagine how you feel" He leant against the window frame and then rubbed his eyes.

"If I'm honest Blake, I feel awfully sorry for her... even if she was mean"

I crossed my arms, leaning slightly against the door as I watched him. His posture was uncharacteristically slack, his usual confidence muted by the weight of the evening.

"She's hurt," he said quietly "and for losing out on the estate, the wedding... but that's not love" He moved from the window sill to stand in front of me

"Love is every time I see you, you make my heart race." Blake said as he took my hand and laid it on his chest

Blake's words hung in the air, soft but laden with meaning. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palm was undeniable, grounding. My breath caught as I looked up at him, his green eyes searching mine with a vulnerability I hadn't seen before.

"Blake," I began, unsure of where to take my thoughts, let alone my words. The intensity of the moment made the room feel smaller, the air thicker.

"You don't have to say anything," he interrupted gently, his voice steady despite the emotion behind it.

His hands reached to cup my face and he kissed me but then pulled back "I like the pyjamas"

"Of course you do," I said, my voice quiet his hand then interlinked his fingers through mine he then brought my hand up to kiss the back of my hand

Blake chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, but the flicker of humour in his eyes couldn't hide the weight of the moment. His hands remained on my face, his thumbs brushing lightly against my skin as though he wasn't ready to let go. Neither was I.

"You make it impossible to think," I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended.

His gaze softened, his green eyes flicking over my face as if searching for something unspoken. "Good," he murmured, before leaning down and capturing my lips again.

This time, the kiss wasn't soft or hesitant—it was deeper, more urgent, as though he was pouring every unsaid word, every unspoken feeling, into it. My fingers found their way into his hair, threading through the soft strands as I pulled him closer.

I barely registered the cool press of the door against my back as Blake guided me into it, his body pressing lightly against mine. The heat of his touch seeped through the silk of my pyjamas, his hands settling on my hips before trailing up my sides, his thumbs brushing just beneath the fabric.

"Felicity," he whispered against my lips, my name barely audible but carrying the weight of everything he wasn't saying.

I didn't reply—couldn't, really. My breath hitched as his lips left mine, tracing a line along my jaw before moving to the sensitive spot just below my ear. The soft scrape of his stubble sent a shiver down my spine, and I clutched at his shoulders, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles beneath my hands.

His hands found their way to my waist again, lifting me effortlessly. My legs wrapped instinctively around his hips, I felt him smile beneath our kiss. The solid strength of him as he carried me toward the bed, his lips never leaving mine. The silk of my pyjamas slid against the cool sheets as he laid me down, his weight settling over me

His kiss was slower this time, as he lent his elbows against either of my head . The weight of him, the heat of his skin against mine, the way his fingers traced patterns against the silk—it was overwhelming in the best way, every touch leaving me breathless.

Blake's forehead pressed lightly against mine, his breath warm and uneven as it mingled with mine. His hand rested at my waist, his thumb brushing in soft, circular motions just under my under my top and against my skin before he kissed along my forehead and then down my jaw.

His lips pressed against mine with a passion that made my chest tighten, his hand slipping from my waist to trail up my side against my bare skin.

I tilted my head to deepen the kiss and then moved my arms to remove his jacket, slipping from his shoulders, the soft thud of the fabric hitting the floor barely registering as his weight shifted over me. I ran my hands down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles as though he was holding himself back. I kissed his jaw and then his cheek and heard him make a noise. my hands found the buttons to his shirt and started undoing them Blake's lips curved against mine in a faint smile, his own hands guiding mine until the fabric parted and revealed the warmth of his skin beneath.

his lips trailing a line of kisses from my jaw to the hollow of my throat. Each touch was deliberate, slow, as though he was intent on savouring every inch of me. I gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot at the base of my neck, His fingers brushed against my skin as he paused, looking at me for the briefest moment. Without hesitation, I lifted my arms, allowing him to pull the silk over my head in a single smooth motion. The fabric slipped from his hands, falling to the floor with a flutter.