ǫᴜᴀᴛʀᴇ

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ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ᴏᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ʜɪs ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ᴀᴄʀᴏss ᴛʜᴇ sᴛʀᴇᴇᴛ ʜᴀsᴛɪʟʏ.

Watery Lane was empty. His cousins were at the Garrison, his mother god knows where and the house empty. It was easy for the young Blinder to slip from the house inconspicuously.

There was a sinking feeling growing in his stomach as he walked along Aubrey rode, on his way to Valentine's house as he had done many times by now. It was the exact same route and routine almost every other day. It had become his normal, and it worried him. It was like an addiction that he couldn't choose to quit.

They couldn't be called close, the two of them. They still hadn't shared their last names, their likes, their dislikes, their occupations of pastimes. Valentine and Michael knee nothing about each other. For a while, it had worked well, kept peace in the air. But the more time they spent together, although lacking words, had to mean something.

When Michael had arrived at her house, waiting below her bedroom window, Valentine was sat curled up on the bay seat, smoking. She waved him up, moving from the window to walk down stairs and let the boy in.

"Michael." She began, a hint of timidness in her usually soft but confident voice. "I want to do something."

Valentine hadn't given him time to shrug off his coat and push her to her room. She'd grown bored of sleeping together and leaving without a word. So she wouldn't give him time to do it.

She was smiling at him gently, coaxing an answer before he even had time to think. He liked her smile.

"Then lets do something." He replied, while leaning into her suggestively, having taken her statement the wrong way.

She tapped him away slightly, laughing lightly as she placed a hand on his cheek. "I want to go out and do something with you."

She moved around him, standing by the bay window, letting the wind dance with the lace curtains, wrapping her in the fabric softly. Valentine barely breathed as she waited for his answer, that never came, and so she turned to look at him, stepping forward gingerly so she stood between his legs, looking down.

"I'm sick of sneaking around Michael. I want more than just sex." She didn't look at him as she spoke, fearing that her want of more would scare him off. But in fact, it did the opposite.

His hand reached up slowly, taking her chin in between his fingers and tilting her head down. She blinked, her breath hot against his rough skin.

"Okay." He said, his voice unintentionally laced with hesitation.

Michael was unsure. He couldn't deny that the feeling of something being missing had invaded his mind more than the odd occasion upon visiting her. The sense of being so close to someone but simultaneously so far away made him feel uncomfortable after so long of it. But it scared him. She didn't know him. They were still strangers.

Valentine smiled softly, placing a hand to his cheek, soothing his worried feelings. It was as if she knew what he was feeling somehow, and knew how to make it go away.

Valentine felt the same way. She wanted nothing to do with Michael. Wanted nothing more than to sleep with him and then leave. But she wanted everything to do with him. Wanted to know things about him that no one else would know.

That was where there problem began.

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