Poison Ivy League

Chapter 9

Flaws - Bastille

Heart-Shaped Box - Nirvana

Chocolate - The 1975

His hand gently traced up my arm, resting carefully on my bent elbows. My hands were at his sides, tickling his exposed ribcage. The clock, which was sitting in some cardinal direction, read 3:07. His lips met mine again, shooting those butterflies through the roof of my stomach throughout my body. My legs were lifted by butterflies. My nose was tickled by butterflies. Everything was butterflies. I giggled quietly as his fingers gently drew on my stomach, patterns and swirls emerging on my skin. He pulled back, his forehead tipping forward and his nose pressing on mine. I heard the random Netflix show we had chosen playing softly in the background. I smelled his subtle cologne. I felt his skin, the soft stubble that was barely visible on his chin. God, was he a person.

There was a certain art about how he touched my lips: gently and softly but constantly striving for more. His entire torso was bare. One layer: My shirt. His hair was twined in my fingers. His heart was pounding against my chest. His hands moved to my lower back.

But those dreadful memories of high school came flashing forward.

"We can't do this." I whispered quietly under the drone of the television, taking a deep breath and pushing the memories to the back of my mind. He sighed, lifting his face an inch or two above mine. A stone dropped in my stomach.

"I know..." he trailed off. His finger ran along my jaw, his touch as light as a feather. I closed my eyes, savoring this moment and filing away the feelings for future reference. He was warm: physically and mentally. I wanted to hear his voice forever: the sound that was as soft as leather. His sociable personality was a beautiful trait of his. I wanted to be him, to live in him safe and sound and let nothing ever daunt me again.

He lifted himself away from me and sat up, the leather couch squeaking and crinkling below him. I got up and rested my head in the nook under his arm.

"Is this Dexter?" I inquired as sinister music erupting from the speakers. He nodded and we watched the good serial killer. I slowly sunk into the couch, my eyes closing gradually. My head was resting on his lap by the time I yawned.

"You can go to bed if you want to," he said and I laughed quietly. "You like to get up early, I've noticed." The clock read 5:27 and I wanted to get up at 7:30.

I groaned as I realized the pitiful truth.

"I can't keep my eyes open," I said, my eyes slowly drifting closed. My mind muffled and I fell into a heavy slumber, which was quickly disturbed.

"Wha-"

"Shh. It's okay. You fell asleep." He carried me like an infant into the bedroom. I immediately curled into a ball as I was brought onto the comforter. My hands clasped under my head and I could feel the impending loss of consciousness win out as he slid next to me, his arms around my waist and the tip of his nose against the nape of my neck.

"Good night Emma Rose," he said, to which I replied with my own silent "Good night."

~

So this was a sweet chapter for all of you guys. I am sorry that it is so short! What are your thoughts about Emma and Leo? I would be very interested to know your thoughts on the matter. Well good night to all! Xxx Gabrielle