Decipher | Watty's 2017

LXXVII. Concupiscence

Concupiscence

/känˈkyo͞opəsəns/

verb

a strong sexual desire; lust

This chapter will contain sexual content. Before it begins getting heated, I have placed a few dots in order to ensure everyone's reading enjoyment. Read at your own discretion.

It was a few days later when I was released from the infirmary, the nurses becoming quickly annoyed with Luke's constant nagging for my release. When I returned to his room, I realized how much of my stuff was still remaining within his room despite my efforts to remove piecemeal all evidence of myself from his life. Although I knew I would have to return to my room to gather a few of the items of clothing I had removed from his room, I wasn't bothered by that minor detail, deciding that it could wait.

Luke's eyes never strayed from my body as I walked towards the bed that used to be ours, my movements slightly wavering as I sat on the memory stricken bed. I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes as I debated all of the ways this could go within my mind. Either he could forgive me for not accepting his flaws or we would be forced to live with the unyielding sexual desire radiating off of both of us.

"Will you look at me," he whimpered, his voice sounding like he was close to begging. I hesitantly met his eyes, my hooded eyes causing him to release a sigh of aggravation. "I'm trying here Melissa," he said finally, running his hands through his unruly curls. While raking over his figure, I noticed he had recently clean shaven off his face, leaving him looking more like the man I had met roughly two years ago.

My lips remained sealed, unable to speak for fear of cracking under the pressure of his stare. I felt like a horrible person for pushing him against a brick wall and expecting him to change his beliefs for me, but what other choice was left for me? If I chose to ignore it, all of this would blow up again and we may not be as fortunate then.

"Melissa," he called out, coming closer to my body and leaning closer to me. Although I didn't want to look into his saddened blue orbs, I was forced to when he held his face directly in my eyesight. He looked miserable, his eyes hollowed out as though he hadn't recieved sleep the past few nights. "I need you," he whispered into my lips, his mere inches from mine as he wove one of his hands in my hair and the other cupped my cheek gently.

I shook my head gently, trying to fend off his advances as tears escaped my eyes. It wasn't that I didn't want him or was scared of what he would do, I was scared of what I would do. My body shook as I held myself together, not wanting to collapse into his arms in fear that it would cause him to believe we were something we were not. No matter how much I loved him and needed him, I couldn't find it within myself to put my needs before his own.

He needed stability the same way I needed commitment, and I would never be able to provide that. Through the past years, I had proven that more times than I could count. I wasn't trustworthy enough to hold his scarred heart in both of my shaky hands.

Somehow, he caught onto my inward battle, forcing me to look into his eyes as he searched them relentlessly for my love. "You aren't allowed to tell me that you don't want me because you don't trust yourself," he seethed, angered by my reason of rejection as he shook his head. His eyes seemed to be glistening under the light of the room as I stared at him through my tear filled eyes.

"I want you, Melissa Jennings, and you aren't allowed to decide if I can have you or not because you don't feel worthy," he spoke gently with the authority he always seemed to bear shining through. My eyes remained focused on him as I struggled to control my breathing, his hands staying placed on my cheeks and wiping the tears away.