FEEL

51. Mithenness

Mithenness ~ the unsettling awareness that the rest of the world happily carries on in your absence

~ The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows ~

~°~

I didn't miss him. Not one bit. He didn't cross my mind in too significant a manner for four weeks. There were memories, moments where I'd reminisce for a minute or two about our rendezvous, and my heart might warm for that same minute, but then I would be busy again. And he'd fade away, like he was just a distant dream.

Frankly, those four weeks at camp had felt like a different life in a different world. A world where he didn't exist. Where I had never met Breanna or Dre or him, but still had the knowledge of everything they had taught me.

I made friends, but they were only bunk mates and would remain so. When all of this was over, we would all go home and it will be like they never existed. Like they were part of another life. I focused on completing all the tasks handed to us, engaged in every activity and even managed to gain some credits that would help alot with college applications.

We had screen time every Saturday and Sunday night at six to seven-thirty PM, but I never called or texted him. I had texted Breanna, but she never replied. He sent a message on my second week here, asking how I was liking it so far, but I chose not to reply. I had stuffed my phone back into my travel bag and never took it out again for the remainder of camp.

And now I was standing outside of our - his - apartment door and every nerve in my body was spiking. I can't tell whether I was afraid of how he would react to seeing me after I ignored him for so long or anxious about how I would react upon seeing him. Because after feeling nothing for him for all these weeks, not missing him, not thinking of him, suddenly I was feeling alot.

Regardless, I suck in a deep breath, release it slowly, and then I knock on the door. My heart bangs across my chest when his voice calls out that he'll be a moment. A sweat breaks my pores and I can't tell if it's nerves or eager anticipation. I clutch the handle of my suitcase hard, shifting from one foot to the other.

Where is he?

And then, much to my relief and pleasure, the door swings open. I turn up and a pair of cerulean jewels meet my gaze, shock conveyed in them before they grin brightly upon me and then finally, the smile touches his lips. A smile that I now realize I had missed so severely. A rush runs through my body as he regards me affectionately

“Hey...”

My arms swing around his neck just short of the syllable passing his lips and I crash my mouth into his. Cameron braces onto my waist, barely stumbling back a foot or two before finding himself again. He smoothly returns the kiss, guiding me into a familiar rhythm that I had missed so dearly. His warm lips slip against mine, tongue teasing me into a quiver and I begin to submit to his dominating movements.

He draws back infinitesimally. “Your bags-”

“Later,” is all I answer against his hot mouth.

I push up against him, pressing my chest to his broad one. He hums vehemently and squeezes my waist. With a shudder seizing my body for a moment, I release a loud breath against him and sink my hands into his hair. He presses out a grunt. A flood of desire suffocates me and I find my movements orchestrated solely by need and the rush of the heat it induces.

With a hand bracing onto his hard chest, I push him up against the wall. Another grunt, “Aquila...” he presses out.

I respond by running my hands down his body. His muscles coil up under my touch and the firm feel of them beneath my palms through the fabric of his cotton T-shirt awakens the finest sensations in my body.