Bruises

6: the fire

Ayden drove me home. His car was a deep black, and it glistened over with shine as we rolled under the moonlight. I sat in the passenger seat, occasionally turning to watch Ayden. His features were beautiful; he had messy blond hair with the occasional brown streak. He had dark brown eyebrows and broad shoulders; his eyes were full and absolutely gorgeous. He grinned. He had caught me. I looked away, blushing, entirely thankful for the darkness that was painted around us like black acrylic. I tapped my foot, breaking empty silence like a ticking time bomb.

"My street is right here," I point down my narrow street, my finger tip pushing up against the cool glass of the car window. But he doesn't turn. My eyes watch the street recede from view. "Why didn't you turn?"

"I am not letting you go into the house with your father," he deadpanned; he wasn't joking.

"And why in hell would you do that?" I angrily jab at him. My cheeks flamed a hot red. Where would he take me anyway? I just wanted to go home.

"Because your father is a monster. If he does what that idiot did to you back at the party, then no way in hell will you be going home," I scoff at his remark, pissed.

"Fuck it Ayden, take me home. I've dealt with him many times. And if he is having a bad night, I could just go over to my neighbors." I cross my arms across my chest. The bandage top I was wearing all of a sudden become uncomfortable against my irritated skin. He doesn't move. "Please," my voice softens.

"Winter," he sighs, "I don't want you getting hurt," his eyes finally, the first time since we have gotten into the car, meet mine. They bore into mine.

"Fine," I grumble and shatter our glare, turning my body so it is easier to look out the window. The heat once rising in my body dies. My body was now overwhelmed with the cool air of the night. Ayden rolls down the windows, stale wind filling up the vehicle. I take in the refreshing light of the glistening moon that filters down to the earth. The wind pushes back brunette curls across my face. My dress ruffles. Soon the force of air settles as we pull into a street to the right, then up to a driveway. His house was about the size of mine, a warm red brown color. It was empty of movement. He pulls in front of the garage, stopping the car. The vehicle rumbles in satisfaction before he steps out onto the cool concrete. He heads over to my side and opens my door before I can, offering me a hand and a warm smile. I take his hand, pushing myself out of the car. My pumps clamp against the ground as he guides me gently to the door. He swings out a key from the pocket of his khakis, his soft green button up wrinkled and scrunched. I follow his footsteps into the tall house. The warm air hits us like a tall wall and envelopes us like a blanket. I stick close to him as we tip toe our way up the stairs. The soft hum of a fan came from one room to the left and deceased as we walked further down the hall. We both keep quiet and hurry through the dark to the very end of the hallway into his room. He lit it up a little bit, the stunning white light burning through my pupils. I squinted and gently kicked off my pumps, sitting them next to the door. His room was decently large. His walls were a dark blue. Posters of different sports teams were tacked into the thick walls that bounced and kicked heat in the room like a soccer ball. His bed was queen size, his comforter a deep red. His pillows and sheets were white. A tall window hung to the right side of his room, showing off a large backyard and a sparse amount of trees. He had a white wood desk and dresser and many shelves that held golden trophy upon golden trophy. His room was surprisingly neat except for the couple of shirts that were thrown across the white carpet.

"Make yourself at home," Ayden grinned as he dug around in his dresser. Clothes were stuffed in the white drawers.

"Thank you," I squeaked. I shied away from throwing myself across the bed in exhaustion or stripping off my clothes like I probably would've done at my own house. I drifted over to a white door to the left of his room, tracing my hands over the soft wood. I felt Ayden behind me.

"Here you go," he handed me a large track shirt of his and a pair of black boxers. "I don't mind if you change in here," he winked goofily. I scoffed and pushed him lightly with a soft giggle as I took the clothes from him. I found myself in his bathroom, not bothering to lock the door behind me. I slipped out of my clothes and into Ayden's loose clothes. His boxers barely clung to my waist, his shirt came down to the middle of his loose boxers. I carried my clothes in a buddle and threw them next to my pumps along with my handbag. Ayden was shirtless, his stomach ripped and tan. I bite my lip and looked away, cheeks flushing once again. His shirt and jeans were sprawled across the room; he replaced his pants for a pair of basketball shorts. I find myself smile at the entirety of the situation. A slight rush of pain spread across my face. I touched my fingers to the bruise that hung upon my cheek like a reminder of tonight. I push the thoughts back into the recesses of my mind and slumped over to the bathroom.

I rush cold water over my face, my makeup running down my skin. I padded my fresh features with a towel hanging on the wall. I flipped the light off and headed back into his room. He was sitting on the side of his bed, his head in his hands. I crawled across the bed to him. His figure seemed tense and tired.

"Hey," I sat right next to him, maybe a little too close.

"Hey," his voice was gentle and warm. He looked over at me, his eyes washing over my bruise. He brushed his fingers across the dark purple and blue, the blood underneath my cheek fresh and warm. My breath hitched as he drew his fingers away and replaced them with his lips. His plump mouth brushed against my skin, sending chills up my back. He pressed them against the swelling pain gently, his tongue grazing against the color. I bite lip and tense up. He must have felt it because he pulls away.

"I have a question," I splutter and he nods, so I continue, "Why are you doing this all for me? You stood up for me and bought me lunch and now I'm back at your house," All the words just pour out at once. My hands fly over my mouth, my eyes glancing at him. He doesn't respond for awhile.

"Because a girl like you doesn't deserve it." He keeps staring off into space even when he lets the words form from his mouth.

"A girl like me?" I ask.

"Winter, you're one of a kind. I barely know you but already I'm intrigued by your beauty. You are so, so beautiful. I feel like I've known you for so long. And your strength. Your strength, you are the strongest person I have ever met, Smith. I just want you to know that. And I'm here for you."

I stare at him with such intensity for the longest time before out of nowhere, my lips are crashing into his, and I feel his body pulse against mine. His lips are tasteful, and smooth, and his whole body radiates warmth. I pull away instantly and realize what I just did. My face flushes a deep red.

"Holy shit," I murmur. "I'm sorry."

A deep laugh empties from his stomach.

"Smith," he shakes his head. "You don't apologize for something like that."

"So I could do it again?" and without an answer, I pull his lips to mine one more time, just to feel the fire.

The fire never felt so good.

A/N:

Hello fellow readers! Happy Valentine's Day! I do have a valentine actually....he's so sweet.

He's an oreo :)

Haha okay, so I hope you like this chapter! Gosh, I love them. And the little sweet thing that Ayden said at the end>> I give myself feels. Oh yes.

LOVE YOU GUYS!

Hope you guys have a great weekend and hope you had a decent Valentine's Day! (because I know a lot of people hate it, but I don't know, I like it)

Anyway, please VOTE, COMMENT, and FOLLOW.

XOXO