The Love You Gave • 13rw

Until You Love Yourself| C. Jensen

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Prompt:  You've always found your insecurities to be your faults, serving as a  barrier between yours and Clay's relationship. Still, Clay continues to  do all he can to reassure you his heart is yours.

Warnings: A cute Clay Jensen that will make your heart ache.

One-shot mini, 551 words x
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"I want you," Clay breathed, his index finger tracing small ovals over the side of your thumb. His nose was a few feet apart from your cheek, his eyes lingering from your eyes down to your lips. You could feel his heavy breathing upon your cheek, cooling the warmth radiating from the touch of his hands to your face.

Your head felt fuzzy while your eyes blurred, tears clouding the corners of your eyes. Shaking your head, you scoffed quietly, your breath echoing the room in a soft whisper. "No you don't," you admitted in a whisper.

Why he was denying it, you had no idea.

There were so many other girls who could have Clay's eye, yet for some reason his orbs were solely upon you.

Clay shook his head while wrapping his free arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your boy slid delicately across the comforter until your shoulder pressed against his chest. He pressed his lips lightly under your earlobe then to your ear.

"I want you," he whispered, "all of you." Clay's breath fanned your ear while the vibration of his voice tickled your skin. You shivered underneath his touch while tiny white goosebumps began to form dances upon your tanned skin.

His lips lingered upon your ear while he softly blew. His lips slowly trailed up from your ear to your forehead, kissing you lightly. "I want you when your sad," he whispered kissing the center of your forehead, then down to your right cheek, "mad..." He continued his slow trail down your jaw, "happy," to the side of your neck, "confused," then to your collarbone, "empty..."

"Irritated," he continued, nuzzling your skin as his lips roamed from your collarbone to the corner of your shoulder, "numb..."

Clay lifted your arm in the air towards his face, "I want you every second of the day, night, morning..." He pecked your skin from the top of your shoulder down to your hand, "I want you when you feel like you have no purpose." He kissed the knuckles of your hand and then brought his lips to your open palm, "I want you when you feel like there's no point in waking."

He opened his eyes and looked up at you. Your mouth was slightly parted, allowing your breathes to escape while tears were silently cascading down your redden cheeks, falling onto the top of your loose cotton tank.

Cupping your chin in his hand, Clay brought your face to his and pressed you forehead against his own. A small whimper bellowed from deep within your chest, something you had been holding in tightly one his lips burnt your skin.

Clay's other hand found the side of your cheek, his thumb rubbing back and forth under your eye. He brushed his nose across the tip of yours and quietly shushed you. His hand slid down your cheek to your lips, his thumb running across your bottom chapped lip repeatedly.

He licked his lips and stared into your dark eyes. His lips were centimeters away from touching yours and you both knew when he would move his mouth to speak; his lips would lightly graze your own.

"I want you when you don't want yourself," Clay whispered, closing the distance to mold his lips to yours.