Missed Connections

Chapter 62 - Shades of Blue

The rain is still pattering down outside the cottage, covering each leaf and blade of grass with beautiful life sustaining rivulets of water. In the distance you can hear the subtle reverberations of water striking the surface of the lake. All activity has seemingly halted due to the weather, except for the presence of a plucky little duck sitting at the end of the dock. He preens his feathers with his beak, obviously enjoying the warm summer shower, and reflexively I put my hand to my own tousled hair and smile. Disheveled as I may appear on the outside, I am blissfully at ease on the inside. Rain is good for the soul. As are a few good orgasms, my inner sex kitten adds causing a delicious smirk to invade my mouth.

Louis' return from the kitchen interrupts my private thoughts, but doesn't dislodge the devilish smile. He passes me a cup of tea and I graciously accept it, letting it warm my hands before taking a sip. I shove my body over a little to make room for Louis to join me on the oversized arm chair. He slinks in beside me and I nuzzle in to his side. I sigh and the air tastes of moisture and Louis.

A peaceful sense of laziness has invaded my insides, and I am so thankful that a good night's sleep (or post coital rest) has cured me of my nasty hangover. Plus, what better way to reconnect with Louis. We may still need to work on some of our verbal communication but there is no doubting that our bodies know what to do when it counts. I sigh contentedly and glance at the nearby clock.

"Holy shit!" I exclaim, "How is it already two o'clock? I thought it was still morning!"

"You're surprised?" Louis asked with a devilish grin. "A Donny man always takes his time with the ladies."

He raises his eyebrows up and down trying to look svelte, but really looking more like a cat version of Groucho Marx, minus the cigar. I inadvertently laugh, and when I do so, Louis pinches the front of his Adidas zip up and puffs up his chest. He drops the fabric and makes a kind of strange hand gesture that makes me laugh even harder as I take a sip from my cup; Tea threatens to come out of my nose.

"What?" says Lou, pretended to be offended. It comes out sounding more like WOT. "You're really ruining me swagga, Ev. Not the best payback after I gave you a good poke. There wasn't even a jobby in it for me."

I am nearly doubled over at this point and Louis puts his hands out to steady my mug of tea, preventing it from spilling on the carpet. It's obvious he's putting it on thickly. He reminds me a little bit of Brad Pitt's character in Snatch, except English and not Irish. I almost expect Louis to tell me to fight him. (Though, really, with Brad's terrible accent Mickey sounds like a weird Cockney, Irish and Scouse rabble-rouser with marbles in his mouth...)

"You're so annoyingly adorable!" I manage to say between fits of giggles.

"Annoying am I?" Louis says and dives towards me. He begins to tickle my sides, and I start to squirm uncontrollably. I am screaming at this point, and nearly fall off the chair. Louis and I are smushed so closely together I have no means of escape.

"Stop! Ah! No seriously. I will pee. I. WILL. PEE." I am breathing hard and can barely get the words out between chest heaves. Luckily, Louis subsides his attack.

"Golden locks, I'll take, but not golden showers."

I pull myself together just a little and smile cheekily. "You've never seemed to mind me squirting on you."  I wink.

Louis shakes his head a little and points his finger at my face. "Go pee!" he commands, gesturing towards the bathroom.

I let my body go limp and slink to the floor. "Fine," I respond as I turn myself over and start crawling on all fours towards the washroom. Louis pats my ass as I leave.

When I return, Louis has made himself comfortable. He has sunken down in to the armchair and placed his legs over the one arm. He is lazily flicking through the channels on the TV and settles on some sort of sports match. I screw up my nose as I come up behind him, running my fingers through his hair.

"Soccer?" I ask, "Or should I say football?" I add quickly.

"Nah, rugby. Next best thing."

"Oh, sounds fun!" I say, trying to hide my lack of enthusiasm. I smile wanly and march around in front of the chair. I nudge his leg. "Scooch!"

Louis moves without taking his eyes off the game. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me down to sit on his lap. I don't resist and we find a comfy position that blends our bodies together. I give Louis a quick peck on his nose, but he shifts his gaze so swiftly back to the screen that I give up my affectionate efforts. Instead I will myself to watch the game as well.

I'm not a total sport newb. I've watched anything from football to tennis with pals at one time or another, and for a while I was really in to watching MMA fighting. (It was one of Wes' guilty pleasures). And being a quick learner helps because I can usually catch on to the gist pretty quickly. But the rugby match has me stumped. It seems to involve a lot of little men running back and forth across a green pitch and occasionally piling on top of each other. Every time I think I get it, some little nuances "law" messes me up.

"So, that jumble of men is called a what now?" I ask a few minutes later.

"A scrum. The ball was unplayable in the last ruck, so they are restarting the play."

"Ok..." I say, totally confused because I thought the last tangle of men was a scrum. Or a maul. Or whatever the flippity fuck you want to call half a dozen men jumping in a pile! Feeling tense, I squirm in my seat.

"What's wrong, luv?" Louis asks. "Need the loo again?"

"No!" I bristle. "Just trying to enjoy the game," I add as I determinedly keep my eyes on the screen.

"You hate this," says Louis.

"Nah! It's fine!"

"The way your nose is scrunched and your arms are crossed suggests otherwise, darling. No sense pretending."

"I'm not pretending!" I reply a little to forcefully, "I'm just confused," I concede, a little gentler.

"Ha! Ha!" Louis laughs. "Of course you are, luv. This is a impossible game to understand at times. Harry always leaves the room whenever I am watching a match. He says it's worse than watching Liam and I play video games. And he tolerated a bloody good lot of that while we toured!"

"Well, hallelujah! Because I was beginning to think I had totally lost my 'cool-girl-who-can-watch-sports-with-guys' status!"

"Never sure about the cool part..." Louis starts and I playfully punch him in the chest.

"Hey!"

Louis laughs again and good humouredly hold my arms down so I can hit him again. "Enough of that, young lady! That is nooooo way to behave!" he says in a snooty, very non-Doncaster accent.

"Oh no? Would a young lady do this?" I managed to wiggle up close enough to him and brazenly lick up the side of his face, ending my assault by sticking my tongue into his ear.

"Argh!" Louis cries and he pushes me away and I drop to the floor in front of the chair giggling like a fool!

"Gotcha!"

"You're going to pay for that!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

Louis jumps out of the chair and wrestles me to the ground. He attempts to pin me down despite my wriggling like an unearthed worm after the rain. When he finally gets me a little bit still he places a slobbery tongue slice up both of my cheeks.

"Yuck!" I exclaim as I try to free my arms to clean my face.

I give Louis a death stare meant to intimidate him, but he just placidly stares back. His cool blue eyes are deep and beautiful. They aren't just blue, but rather navy, grey, and azure flecked together around his iris like sweeps across a Jackson Pollack painting; seemingly random but rather delicately crafted by a discerning eye.

Noting the change in my demeanour, Louis' expression changes from mischievous to one of curious concern. I smile and so does he. His face softens and he gazes back at me adoringly, and I can think is how lucky I am right now.