It's A Love Story

"Oh we're going green."

t w o

b.lyvley

"Barbra Lyvley, lead vocalist and frontman of the new hit group called Ghosts Can't Love, was seen yesterday sporting a cute yet casual look in Times Square. With her black high top converse and ripped skinny jeans, her indie-flare style is quite a catch. We've compiled some of our favorites and we have a short VQ now;" The tv wasn't exactly blaring, but it felt like it.

Every time they talk about me I feel like I'm suffocating. I haven't really pinned a reason why yet, but I'm working on it.

"You know, there's some real shit goin' on out in the world, and they're talking about what you were wearing yesterday." Louis scoffed. "I'm not saying you don't deserve the attention, your drop dead gorgeous and do have a wonderful flare of style." He continued to laugh, "Goddammit now that I think of it, I would do that if I could." His lips brushed against my cheek as he situated himself and pulled me closer.

"Oh, shush." I giggled sitting up, reaching for the remote and switching the channel.

"What? I'm not kidding." I only rolled my eyes in reply and continued to flip through the stations.

He slipped the remote out of my hand, sitting up as well. Kissing my shoulder lightly, "I'd talk about your eyes, your lips." He pulled me back lightly and got on top of me. Straddling me with his knees on either side of my hips.

"How your skin glows when sunlight touches it." He continued to trail kisses around my cheeks and down my jawline and neck between each phrase. "How your nose crinkles up when you smile."

"No more speaking," I smiled and pressed my hand against his chest, eliminating the space between our lips.

He ended the kiss, before planting another and than continuing to leave kisses down the valley between my breasts.

Yes, we're naked. What? We are two, responsible, young adults. And we don't see each other very often, so when we do - we take advantage of the little time we have together with the best way we know how. Sex.

He stopped kissing once he got next to my lower abdomen, and opened his mouth slightly. For a second I was confused but once I felt his tongue slide down the rest of my torso, I understood.

My back arched, I don't know what it is about him. But even the simplest of his touches drive me crazy.

"Mmm, Louis." The moans escaped my lips before I even knew I was making them.

"Sh, sh, baby. Don't wake the neighbors."

-

"Okay, next; two eggs."

"Oh! I saw eggs!" I jumped and scurried to the fridge, bending over to the bottom shelf and takin out the carton of eggs.

"I hope you know," His arms wrapped around my waist and pressed me to him as his lips nipped at my ear, "your killing me with those panties."

I turned and pushed him up against the now closed fridge, "Why don't you do something about it?" I kissed his neck gently before turning, after letting my hand "fall" down his torso and lightly caress the bulge under his pajama pants.

We do this thing Louis calls Nude Kitchen. Where we cook breakfast, sometimes lunch or dinner, in our underwear. But it seems like every time we do it, he gets out of not wearing pants and only goes with out a shirt. So I'm the only one fully unclothed.

"I just might." I walked back to the bowl on the counter and cracked the eggs, ignoring his comment with a smirk and changing the subject.

"What next?"