Anywhere With You • {J.C.}

||Preface||

-Trying Your Luck-
"I'm sorry that I said, that we were just good friends."
__________

"I can't- I can't keep doing this anymore." She cried into his neck, feeling his heavy breaths beat against her lightly perspired skin. His dark eyes darted frantically across her beautifully broken features as quiet cries began rocking through her shoulders in delicate waves.

He cradled her face in his hands; his fingers appearing larger than usual against the small frame of her head—her long dark hair in disarray. He felt himself become soft inside of her; but what was happening to his body hadn't crossed his mind yet. It wasn't that her tears repulsed him or that it even turned him off, it was the fact that he cared about her.

Oh fuck... he cared about her.

To prove to himself that his adoration was nothing more than a sudden illusion, he ignored her protests.

Still cradling her face in his hand, he snaked his other down her waist, hiking her leg up on his hip before barreling into her petite body once more. Her panting sighs should've made him hard again; those moans of ecstasy that sounded like she wanted him should've made him carry on. But all he could seem to think about was her hesitation—what she had just spoken.

She didn't want this; she didn't want him. The thoughts were overpowering his body now—for the first time in Julian's life, he had gone soft inside a girl before climax. He groaned in a quiet, gentle voice before his hips came to an abrupt stop—giving it one final thrust, making her backside slam into the wall with a thud.

Julian's hands were just above her hips now. Her little black dress was ruffled over the back of his hands, squeezing her flesh a little too tightly. He didn't want to let her go—this was probably the last time he'd ever get to touch her like this.

He knew it was foolish to think he was man enough to do this—to fool around with a beautiful girl and not catch feelings. The repeated hookups behind closed doors he had mistaken for only infatuation, quickly turned into something else.

It had been easy to do. She was his friend first and his "lover" second. That was how they had gotten themselves into this predicament in the first place. Sex had blurred the line between friendship and relationship. Of course Julian cared about Harlow, he always had. But this was starting to mean something more than just friends with benefits.

It pained him to know that he was going to have to walk away soon; his simple "fancy" of the girl was about to turn into love and Julian wasn't so sure he could handle that—not again. He'd seen it all before; he couldn't stay. It wasn't that he couldn't handle being in love, it was the inevitable heartbreak that would occur after; when she realized that she didn't love him back, or that he wasn't as wonderful as she thought he was or simply because there were better guys out there.

His heavy eyes slanted, the slight downturn of his eyes growing more prominent as his face contorted to his inner emotions—the emotions he didn't want Harlow to see.

Holding herself steady by his shoulders, Harlow watched his expression change. Her head moved with his, trying to catch his eye—to get a feel that maybe (just maybe) somewhere deep inside, he felt the same.

Finally, his doe-like eyes locked with hers and for a second, she saw that he did—Julian felt the same. But it was only a flicker. With his hands still on her hips, he let her thigh fall from his leg. She felt the moment he slid out of her; feeling the emptiness it left behind to match the vacant space in her chest.

With her back against the wall, Harlow's hands draped limply from Julian's shoulder, watching as if out of body as he pulled up his jeans. The sound of his zipper broke through her trancelike stare of confusion. She stepped away from the wall, feeling her dress fall to the middle of her thighs again as Julian tried stepping back—away from this girl.