The Story of Scömìche Part 2 (Completed)

Chapter 11

When Mitch and I go back down to dinner, it is hard for me to keep the grin off the face. I just keep thinking, over and over, 'He said he loves me.' I don't even notice when my Aunt and cousins leave, or when my mother goes up to bed. I just sit, staring straight ahead and smiling like and idiot. I just sit there, fixing my gaze on a spot on the table. I am snapped back to attention when Mitch sets his hand on my own. I register the fact that it is just the two of us sitting alone at the table in the darkness of the room.

"Scott? You've been sitting there awhile."

"Mhm." I reply, turning to look at him. He smiles gently, and we simultaneously lean in so that our foreheads are pressed together. I close my eyes, lacing our fingers together. I open my eyes again and see his still closed. With no warning, I pick him up and carry him over to the couch, setting him down gently. He looks at me curiously as I position myself over him and kiss him. He puts his arms around my neck, closing any space between us. He brings his knees up next to my hips, allowing me to get onto all fours with him still hanging off of my neck, our lips still connected. I pull away for a second to breath, but then kiss him again immediately.

"I love you." he says, his words muffled by me. He removes his arms from around my neck, dropping onto his back. I am still on all fours above him, and his legs are still bent, his knees still at my sides. His fingers spin around the top button of my shirt and his eyes are pleading, begging. I smile and he smiles back, starting to undo the buttons. When all the buttons are free, I get up on my knees and he helps my pull the shirt off. At the moment, I forget that we are in my parent's living room, and my dad could walk in at any second. He sits up and yanks his shirt, which is mine, off and throws it on top of mine on the floor. My lips return to his, slightly more aggressive this time, and now he is on his knees, too, until he falls onto his back, leaving me looming over him again. He wraps one arm around my waist and the other around the back of my neck as I kiss trails along his neck, his shoulder, his chest. I burrow my face into the hollow between his neck and his shoulder as he starts to work the button on my jeans. I stop him when I remember where we are.

"Wait." I say, my voice raspy. His hands go still and drop to his sides. "Let's go upstairs." I am thankful that I stopped him because at that moment I hear the front door open and my dad walk in. We both stop moving and wait until he is upstairs, seeming not to have noticed us. I give Mitch a final kiss before leading him upstairs. Before long we are back where we were, with me positioned over him and him under me, this time on the small bed. He gets my jeans off, wasting no time, and lets his hand linger on my waistband. Biting his lip, he cautiously slides his hand into my boxers. I gasp when he makes contact and grab fistfuls of his hair. He takes his hand back out and puts both on my chest. He flips us over and lays down half on top of me while I just lay on my back with my arms around him, my breath shallow. His head is on my chest and I barely hear him whisper, "I love you, Scott."

"I love you, too." I kiss the top of his head, feeling at ease, and close my eyes.

⚜⚜⚜⚜

When I wake up, Mitch is not next to me. If I wasn't dressed in only my boxers, I would think that last night never happened. In my memory, it seems like a dream. I close my eyes again and slide deep under the covers, covering my face to hide from the sun. I poke my head out when I hear the door open. Mitch is standing in the doorway with two coffees in his hands.

"Morning, sleepyhead. I got coffee."

"Come here." I say, my voice froggy, opening my arms to him. He sets the cups down on the desk across from the bed and sits on my lap while my arms mold around him.

"Your parents went to work, just so you know, so we're alone. I thought we might want to get home and feed Wyatt and stuff."

"Mhm." He stands up and I follow suit.

"I assume you want these." Mitch says, grinning, holding out my jeans and my shirt. I hum in agreement and take them from him, slipping them on. I take my coffee from the desk and go out to the car after putting my shoes back on. Once Mitch is seated next to me and Beyoncé is blaring so loud that the car is shaking, I start down the street and back toward our house.