How Could This Be Real?

50. Don't Go

When I woke up, I thought he was still asleep so I slowly started to push off the covers.

"Where you going?" he mumbled drowsily.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

He reached out and wrapped his arm around me, "I wasn't sleeping." He tried to kiss me, but I ducked out of his hold. He frowned, "What's wrong?"

I chuckled and gave him a peck on the cheek, "I'm just playin' with ya. I need to take a shower though."

He smirked, "Let me help you."

I rolled my eyes, "I think I can do it by myself."

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun."

"We had our fun."

He traced a finger down my chest, "But I want to have more."

I quickly hopped out of bed, "Sorry, that train has left the station."

"Oh, fine, be that way."

I grabbed some clothes and went into the bathroom, giving him a wink before I closed the door. Last night played in my head over and over again. I could recall every moment and knew I would never forget any of it. Before I had met David, I didn't think I'd do anything like that until I was married, but he made it impossible for me to wait.

I was content in my thoughts, the steam around me thick and comforting, when the water suddenly turned freezing cold. It was as if a blizzard had suddenly swept through the room.

"David!" I shrieked in annoyance.

There was no reply so I got out and dressed, not bothering about my wet hair. I went downstairs and heard water running in the bathroom. When I looked in the kitchen, he was hunched over the sink, cleaning dishes with scalding hot water.

I crossed my arms, "Eh hem."

He looked at me and grinned, "Morning dearest, how was your wash?"

I tapped my foot impatiently and watched the steam rising from the pans.

"What ever is the matter?" he asked teasingly.

I huffed, "You can be so irritating sometimes."

He finally turned off the water and shrugged, "Yeah." He walked over to me and put his still-wet hands on my hips. "But you still love me."

"Well if you keep doing stuff like this, that might be kind of difficult."

"Oh, don't deny it. You like it when I mess with you."

"Are you sure about that?"

He didn't respond, just leaned in and kissed me. I couldn't help smiling, there was something oddly fun about our little squabbles. Or maybe I just liked the end when we made up.

I'd lost count of how many times we'd kissed and didn't really care to be honest. Every time still felt as magical as the first. They all made me feel special, like I was the only thing he wanted. Last night had only further confirmed that.

He sighed contently and pulled me closer, forever tightening his embrace, but never enough to make me uncomfortable.

Droplets of water dripped down my back from my hair and I started to pull away.

He didn't release me. Instead, he nuzzled his cheek against mine and whispered, "Don't go."

"I just need to dry my hair, I'll be right back."

He looked in my eyes and there was a sort of longing behind them. "That's not what I mean."

I cocked my head, "Then, what do you mean?"