Blurred | Lines

Twenty-one

I stare intensely into his charcoal grey eyes, and I nearly attempt to wiggle my way out of his arms.

But my attempt is pointless and I relax to the point where a chill runs up my spine from the cold tile.

"Now, I'm going to ask you again, are you going to tell me?"

I sigh reluctantly, looking up at him as water pelts his back and my hands run down his chest. His fingers skim my stomach, over my navel.

"I had a dream. About you."

My words aren't exactly true, but they aren't a lie either. I did have a dream about him.

I rub his chest and a purr leaves him. I laugh, as he eases me to my feet.

"And what was I doing in this dream?" He asked, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"Cooking me breakfast." I smirk.

He laughs, shaking his head. He runs a hand through his hair, and squeezes my hips firmly.

"I'm going to shower." I tell him softly.

"You do that." He swoops up my lips, and I melt into his touch. His hand presses onto the wall on above my head. He pulls away, and strokes my lip with his thumb. "I'm going to cook that breakfast."

I smile as he gets out the shower, leaning my head on the tiled wall as a goofy grin comes onto my lips.

I shake off my feelings, and stand under the shower head, my hair curling into wavy spirals. I run a hand through my hair, waking up.

The water trickles down my skin, and I lather the soap on my skin, before I rinse off.

I wrap a towel around my torso, before I walk out, digging through my bag. I grab my comb and my flat iron, walking into the bathroom.

I comb out the tangles, and I flat iron my hair, when Eric walks back in, a smile on his lips.

"So, that's how you do that. You look nice."

"My hair is frizzy." I frown, smoothing out my hair. "I want to cut my hair off sometimes."

"You're beautiful." He murmured. He pressed his chin into the dip of my shoulder, and I wince, before relaxing.

"Ugh." I grunt softly, not wanting to accept his complement. "Do you have some gel or something?"

I never liked complements, because they showed a dependency I didn't want to give.

"I have some cream, does that work?"

"It's okay." I shrug, unplugging the iron, and leaving it on the counter to cool.

He grabs my bare shoulders and frowns. "Lillian, look at me."

It only makes me drop my eyes to my feet, and huff quietly.

I like his complement, but I don't want him to know I'm affected by it. Silencing my feelings keeps me from getting too attached to him when he finds a new girl to be interested in.

I look up at him after a moment, pressing my lips together.

"Most girls say thanks or blush when given a complement." He scolds softly.