Private Lives

Private Lives Chapter 12: I'm Tangled In My Blanket Of Clouds

Hi,  Shout out to Naruko21 who is the biggest fan on this story. I am so grateful for you. Lol. Sorry this so late.
Warning: MA17 Mature Audiences only.  This fanfic depicts explicit sex scenes and language. Read at your own risk.
Enjoy.

The 9:00 am meeting lasted through to late afternoon. Ichabod Crane sat with his elbow on his chair's arm. His right hand rested under his chin. He yawned and covered his mouth. His long fingers drummed lightly above his mouth. Ichabod tuned out William Desoto's detailed account of his role in the chemistry lab explosion about ten minutes ago. He has heard the story twice already at the lab and in his office. He was tired of hearing about the story already. He just wanted this meeting to be over so he can go talk to Abbie alone.

Ichabod's eyes slid slowly to his couch where Abbie sat with Daniel. He stared at her. Her brown hair was swept up in a small bun on top of her head. Some stray tight curls fell around her face. Abbie wore little make-up. The black eyeliner she wore barley covered the red in Abbie's eyes which hinted at a sleepless night. A red shine brightened her plump lips. She was dressed casual. She wore a white short-sleeved peasant blouse, tight skinny black jeans and black heeled shoes. Her legs swept to the side.

He hadn't spoken to Abbie since that argument yesterday afternoon in the students courtyard. He called Abbie many times last night, to apologize but Jenny always answered. Jenny told him Abbie did not want to talk to him.
He spent a sleepless night staring up at his bedroom ceiling. He just couldn't let his mind and body relax to sleep. His thoughts kept going back to what an unbelievably, unreasonable ass he was. He just couldn't help himself. His frustrations and pressures just came out all at once. His feelings for Abbie, Luke, the Promise ring, Abbie's loyalty to said Luke Morales and Jenny blowing up her classroom. The last straw was that crack about Katrina. What was it she called her? Princess Wonderbra? He chuckled. It was funny.

He knew he had overreacted; said to much without thinking. He must make peace with Abbie. He wouldn't be able to sleep the rest of the weekend until he did so. Ichabod didn't want to ruin this new found relationship with Abbie. He loved her and he really wanted it to work with Abbie.

His thoughts then went back to Katrina. He couldn't help but to compare the two relationships. He and Katrina were too young when they married. They were only seventeen, just children. He had met Katrina in his senior year in High School. They loved each other. Except the love was immature and selfish. He and Katrina took instead of giving to each other. They took sexual pleasure from each other. The way you would satisfy an inch.

Ichabod and Katrina's relationship was hot and heavy. They had sex everyday. They couldn't get enough of each other until they became more focused on their careers in their senior year in University. Ichabod and Katrina then just drifted away. Their sex life began to loose strength and momentum. Ichabod began to take extra classes and study every night to chase his scholastic career. Katrina was doing the same dedicated to launching her fashion accessories business. The breakup was mutual. Ichabod and Katrina agreed the fire had gone.

      The difference was Ichabod needed Abbie. He needed her in his orderly, controlled, boring, English life. He needed her chaos, her disorder, her excitement. He wanted all of Grace Abigail Mills. Even her chaotic sister, Jenny. He loved Abbie. It was strange but these two days have been the happiest days of his life since Abbie's arrived at University. He was able to get to know Abbie as an adult after the explosion. Right after the firemen called the all clear and they left the building. They sat on a bench in the students courtyard waiting for Daniel. He remembered Abbie's small hands laying on her lap shaking. Ichabod reached out and covered her small hands with his.
Only to discover it was cold.

"Please, don't," Abbie said. She pulled her small hands from under his and replaced them on her lap.

"You're hands are cold," he answered. "Are you really ok?" He looked at her and frowned.