Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ Xanzibar ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
The silence filled the room as the two delusional lovers watched one another, lying flat on their stomachs as the snow continued flooding the streets of France.
He insisted for them to go back to his place but a small snow storm had came, taking out power in some areas.
He ran his cool large hand against her warm back.
"She was pregnant" she spoke breaking the silence.
"Mads?" He asked she nodded slowly.
"Whose was it?" He asked softly
"Her ex.." she replied
"Wouldn't they just be back together?" He asked with curiosity in his tone.
"She didn't want it. She never wanted to be back with him in the first place" she told.
He turned on his back and left her alone, staring at the ceiling not knowing what else to say to her.
"When do you think room service will begin?" He asked breaking the silence
"I dunno, maybe when atleast the sun comes up" she groaned. He got up pulling back the curtains. The sun was on its way up as the sky was a dark tinted blue.
"You gonna get out that robe?" He asked
She sighed getting up sitting on the heels of her feet.
"I don't wanna change into it now, it'll be uncomfortable..to sleep in jeans or a shirt.
"I did more than you think," he said still watching the early morning snow blur the street signs outside.
"Here.." he picked it up off the floor tossing it on the bottom of the bed.
She furrowed her brows, dragging herself over to it. Unzipping the second pocket, she found her silk bonnet, a small jar of her edge control, and the worn-out hoodie she always stole from him soft, warm, smelling faintly like his cologne.
Her lips parted slightly.
"I pay attention to you"
She didn't say anything, just ran her fingers over the items like she was afraid they'd vanish if she blinked.
"I see how you always use that in your hair" he continued gently.
"You feel better?" he asked
"No," she whispered honestly. "But I feel like you see me."
She took out the hair custard she used for her curls, and the wide define brush. She saw her undergarments, socks, jeans, long sleeve white top, and the silk dress he bought her the other day.
"Thanks Cal" she spoke softly.
"Beats going back and forth with you" he smiled. She grabbed her underwear and his hoodie out of the duffle, she instantly started changing infront of him as he looked away. She caught onto him and looked over at him, she pulled up her underwear and slipped on his hoodie over her bare chest.
She knew he was looking away from her because he felt guilty to even touch her. But right now all she wanted was him, even if he didn't feel comfortable with it she knew he still adored her regardless of her circumstances, she was tempting him and he knew so.
She walked over to the bed and sat beside him, close but not touching.
"Does it bother you?" she asked.
He didn't answer right away. His jaw clenched slightly.
"No. That's the problem," he said quietly.
She reached for his hand. He didn't pull away.
"I don't want you to feel like you have to fix me," she murmured.
His eyes flicked to her face, searching. She leaned in, slow, hesitant, and he met her halfway. Their lips brushed once, soft and unsure, before she kissed him again deeper, fuller, like she needed the confirmation that he was really there and real.
He breathed against her mouth, conflicted, his hand brushing the side of her thigh through the hoodie.
"Evara..." he whispered, as if her name was a warning to himself.
"You can touch me," she said, her voice low and vulnerable. "I want you to."
She climbed onto his lap, straddling him as the hoodie shifted over her bare skin. His hands found her waist slowly, like he was afraid he might shatter her if he moved too fast.
"I hate that I want this," he said.
"But you do," she replied, holding his face in her hands.
Their mouths met again, and this time there was no hesitation. He pulled her closer, her legs tightening around his hips. The weight of the unspoken fell away as skin met skin, warmth meeting need. Every movement between them was desperate and careful like they were trying to hold onto one another without breaking character.
And for a moment, there was no pain. Just breathing, just touch, just now.
He pulled away, giving up.
"What's wrong?" She asked in that tone, the tone that reminded him of a 17 year old girl in highschool at a party doing something stupid like 7 minutes in heaven.
"Cal" she spoke softly.
"Don't do that.." she added
"Just...not right now. You should probably get some sleep, yea" he says standing up going to the bathroom. She then gave up and turned her hormonal thoughts into drowsiness. She covered herself in the blankets and continued watching the sun attempt to rise while the snow covered the city.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
