Little Love Stories

Every bone in your body

Lyla Hamstead sunk into her plush couch, letting out an irritated huff. She had been at her high school friend's wedding when he showed up, hair perfectly coiffed, wearing that damn suit and staring at her with those baby blues. Noah freaking Silverston. She had managed to ignore him for the most part; the church ceremony had been easy enough, she was all the way in the third row and it was pretty full. She'd avoided him during the reception by mingling with her old friends and had always dodged him when she saw him approaching. He finally managed to corner her when she had to separate from the group and go to the washroom, the copious amounts of champagne she had been steadily consuming weren't really on her side here.

"You're avoiding me." He had stated, a look of hurt etched across his features. It tugged at her heartstrings, but she stayed strong.

"Good. You can take a hint." She had quipped, and she had been proud of her resolve until he stopped her efforts to step around him with a hand on her stomach. The thin silk material of her dress did nothing to shield her skin from the warmth he emitted and she had known there and then that she had lost.

"Can we talk?"

And so there they were, at her apartment halfway across her city, the sun sinking into the night without either inhabitant noticing, him too busy pouring her a drink, and she too busy staring at his back, trying to get it together.

"I'm sorry I pulled you out of the reception. You looked like you were having a good time," He started, turning around with two glasses of wine in hand. "You look stunning by the way." His eyes appraised her from head to toe appreciatively. And she did. Her chestnut locks were pulled into a ponytail, with a few wisps falling beside her face. Her makeup was immaculate, as usual, and highlighted her emerald orbs. Her dress was a red number, with a low neckline and thin straps crossing her shoulder blades and that swept the floor when she walked.

His compliment was like the first taste of cool water after a run, but it was more how he was looking at her rather than what he said. It was like she was the only thing he saw. Like everything else could fade away and he wouldn't notice. It made her uncomfortable.

"You said you wanted to talk." She offered instead, standing up.

"I miss you. Things weren't supposed to end like they did. I lost my dad, and that was traumatic for me, but I shouldn't have pushed you away. I said some things and did some things that made you feel unwanted and I hope you know I didn't mean any of them. You have to know that I never... I didn't... I didn't know how to deal with it all. It felt unfair that you could make me feel like things were going to be okay after the worst thing that could possibly happen to me, did. I felt like it wasn't fair- I needed to grieve him, and be overwhelmed with the pain, that seemed like the only way to properly honor him, in some twisted way. I put you through far more than you deserved and you stayed far longer than I deserved, but I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

While he talked, she looked at him. Really looked at him. His black hair was longer now, but it suited him. He naturally was a pretty fit guy, but he looked even more so, she could tell now that he had taken off his navy suit jacket that he had been working out. He did that when he was stressed. He had a slight stubble, which was new, but she guessed it was his feeble, off-handed attempt to draw attention away from his prominent eye bags. She took a mental log of the bruises on his fists when he raised a hand to offer her a glass of wine and figured he had taken up boxing again.

"Noah, you can't just do this. It's been three months since I left. You can't just come back, and say you're sorry. I waited for you. For three months, I sat around, waiting for you to come after me, tell me you're sorry and that you loved me and that you didn't really mean it when you said I was replaceable. For awhile I really thought you would, and I would have taken you back, no question. But the longer you stayed, the more what you said really sunk in. You threw all my insecurities back in my face and let me sit in that for three months. So no, I won't say I miss you too, no matter how much it's killing me, because I owe myself that much."

Noah winced at her recount of her side of the story, mentally kicking himself for ever letting this girl in front of him- his girl, think for even a second that she was replaceable. He had said some pretty nasty things to her and it made him sick to think about what it did to her.

"I didn't mean any of it," He pleaded, desperate.

"I know. But it's too late, I'm sorry." She replied sadly.

"But-"

"Please leave. You told me to hear you out, and I did, but now you have to go. I can't do this anymore."

He noticed the gleam of unshed tears in her eyes as she gazed up at him and conceded. He had caused her enough pain.

"I understand." He picked up his jacket from where it was draped across the chair and walked to the door, her in tow, but just before he crossed the threshold he spun around to face her, causing her to run into him. He grabbed her before she could step back and looked her dead in the eye.

"I'll leave. But not before I tell you this. You, my love, are the farthest thing from replaceable. You are fierce and witty and full of life. Your laugh can heal even the wariest of hearts, and being loved by you feels like sunshine. Like the first actual sunshine after a long and dreary winter. I could spend eternity just watching you sleep. You smell like caramel and strawberries all at once and your skin is as soft as butter. And screw the ocean. Your eyes have the depth of all the universe. When you sing, something warm settles in my stomach, and I fall in love with you all over again when you subconsciously twist that lock of hair that'll never stay tied. Your kisses are like wine and being in your arms is like coming home. Lyla Marie Hamstead, you are the greatest creation ever. Every fleck in your iris and every bone in that beautiful body are anything but replaceable. Don't you ever let a fool like me tell you otherwise." He asserted, trying to commit to his memory the way her breath hitched. He concluded by bending down to press a final kiss to her cheek, lingering a little in the close proximity before pulling back and leaving.

Lyla stood there, hand on the door knob, and her senses still assaulted by his scent, mind reeling from his confession and heart thudding inside her chest. That bastard.

Later, when she curled into his side in his bed, she would blame this on the alcohol but something snapped inside her. Gathering the length of her dress in her fists, she tore out onto the hallway, chasing Noah down. She caught up to him in the elevator, ignoring his stunned expression, and launched herself into his arms, fusing her lips to his. Gosh, she had missed the feeling of his mouth on hers and his hands on her hips, possessively pulling her closer. Noah knew it would take a lot more than his words to fix things, and he swore then and there, with the love of his life winding her arms around his neck and pressing her body flush against him that he'd spend eternity making it up to her.