The Epic History on Him and I.

Chapter 3

Darius picked me up from my flat to go to the airport at about six. In the morning. I couldn't complain though, because since he was driving, I would be able to get some more sleep. Usually I am all alone and have to drive to the airport, wait for the flight, stay up on the flight just in case, then drive to wherever I would be staying during that mission. Not a whole lot of sleep for me, but over the years, I've gotten used to it.
Now with Darius here, I'll probably only have to stay awake during the flight and he'll let me sleep the rest of the way. I don't always understand why he does this, but I like to think it's because he loves me.
The plane ride wasn't fun; it never is for me. Thirteen hours in a tightly packed aluminum can is not very fun for me. Darius love the serenity of plane rides. I wish I shared the feeling. What with how much we both fly, you'd think I would be used to it by now, but I'm not.
After the plane landed, Darius drove to the hotel and check us into our room. It wasn't very big, just a two twin sized bed room. I offered for just one bed, but he cut off my suggestion with one look. I couldn't identify the look. Slight disgust, which hurt. Surprise, which actually surprised me. Mostly what I saw was pain. Why did he look at me like that? The last time we slept in the same bed...never mind. Anyway, he checked us in and we entered the room. I unpacked both of our suitcases and put our toiletries in the bathroom.
"I think I need a shower," I mumbled to him. Mumbling is something we normally do; we almost never speak in normal voices.
"Okay, don't take too long. I want you to do some recon and also I want some hot water for me," he quietly replied.
"Well, you could just--" He cut me off with another of his looks. I hate those looks. His perfect face is too beautiful for such torment. I only saw this look for a second. he was up and right next to me, pushing me against the wall, grabbing my hair, forcing me to look up into his eyes.
"Jade. We cannot keep doing this to ourselves. Please, stop teasing me. I can't take it anymore."
Such an act would usually be seen as violent, but not right now. This was an act of passion, and one I enjoyed. as quietly as possible, I whispered, "Then stop fighting it," as I push my lips against him and turned so he was pinned onto the wall. He stopped fighting against me and instead fought my clothes. My favorite T-shirt, an old MCR one, ripped into pieces. He's gonna have to pay for that one. The button on my jeans popped off and they were off.
I'll spare you the rest of the graphic details. I'll just say we never did any recon and I didn't shower.