The Way Back | ✓

4.3

note: hey guys, I'd really love to hear your thoughts so please do drop them in the comments and vote if you enjoyed the chapter. This chapter was really soft and I loved writing it. Enjoy ;) 

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Andrew's laughter was a deep one. One that started in the depths of his chest and rumbled its way past his lips, making it sound all the more richer and hearty. London found herself thinking of this as he roared at something that she had said. They'd finished half the bottle which he'd brought over and the ramblings were endless with both parties.

London rather enjoyed herself. At the start, before she had even welcomed Andrew into her cosy home she was frizzled with nervousness. Now, sitting on the couch, occasionally hitting his arm as she giggled to something funny that he said as he relayed a past story to her, she found that she had no reason to be nervous. She was having fun. She hadn't remembered a time when she laughed this hard and this much.

"I think I'm crying," he said, wiping the edge of his eye as he laughed once more.

"I know," she came back with a cocky reply as she flipped her hair over her shoulder, "I'm just too damn funny."

He looked at her before his eyes caught the clock on the wall behind her. "Shit, it's late," he said just as she turned to look at the time. It was almost midnight.

She turned to him. Perhaps it was the wine speaking — though they had had more than half the bottle it was London that had drank the greater portion — as she said, "You could stay over a little while longer. It's not that late."

She saw him visibly gulp, watched as his eyes darted from her face and dropped down to her lips, momentarily staying there before his eyes rose to meet hers again. They were darker, a different intenseness filling them. A look she hadn't seen before. A look she didn't mind at all.

"It is late," he finally concluded, standing up. "I should probably go."

London was dismayed by his statement but didn't show it, or at least she hoped she was sober enough to keep her expressions in check. She got onto her own feet, smiling lightly as she placed down her glass on the coaster. "All right, I'll walk you out."

She suddenly wished she had a large house, one that had at least a few metres from the living room to the front door. That way she could steal a few more seconds of his time. As selfish and as stupid as that wish was, London couldn't help but feel nervous again. This was the end of their date. She didn't quite want it to end. Not yet.

They reached the doorway and London opened her apartment door. The corridor outside was quiet, which she was thankful for. Most of the tenants on this floor and the floor above were older or much quieter people. The people downstairs were the opposite. The life of the party was what suited them.

"Tonight was nice," Andrew said as London rested her shoulder against the doorframe.

"Really nice," she effused. "I enjoyed it."

He wasn't smiling and London wondered if it was because his heart was beating just as fast as hers was, making it almost impossible to muster a smile.

"I can't decide what my favourite part of the night was," he said, his voice low, his eyes dark and searching.

"You have a favourite part of tonight?" she asked in mild awe, fairly aware that his body was angled towards her, just mere inches away from her. He was so close that even in the coolness that creeped into the corridors of this apartment complex she felt warm in his presence.

"Well, I can't decide," he said taking a step forward, eliminating some of the distance that was between them. "The food that was just so yum. I'm absolutely stuffed after that. I don't think I can even stomach breakfast tomorrow."

She smiled, a breathy laugh passing her lips at his words.

"That or spending time with you. Getting to know you better, talking to you, hearing you laugh. That was a favourite moment of the night for me, along with that amazing food of yours," he said, and she knew that he added the last bit to try and lessen the tension that was buzzing between them the instant they got up from the couch. It had been there all night, slowly kindling away in their hearts, and then sizzling between them now.

"You can have two favourite moments," she said, deciding right there and then that life was too short not to act on your impulses, not to act on your desires — your wants, your needs.

His eyes never strayed from hers. They locked onto hers, one deep gaze matching the other. If her heart was not beating so fast and so hard perhaps she could read the emotion that swirled within his irises. His gaze was hooded and though she commanded her heart to stop acting so foolishly it kept thundering, tattooing a new song to her ribcage.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, his hands in the pockets of his coat, his tongue moving over his bottom lip. "I really want to kiss you now."

She swallowed, taking one last step forward and eliminating the last of the distance that was between their bodies. "I really want to kiss you too."

He grinned, that happy beautiful smile of his before his head dipped and his lips brushed against hers. The kiss was so soft, so gentle that she shivered at the touch of his lips, tingles making their way down her spine.

She angled her head, reaching forward, reaching for more and she pushed up on her tiptoes, and he reeled her in, using his hands that were earlier in his coat pockets, cupping her face and drawing her near. One hand slithered into her hair while the other danced down her arm, ripples of pleasure waving down her spine right to her very toes. His hand came to rest on her hip and she couldn't stop that deep throaty noise from her mouth as his tongue slid out, tracing the seam of her lips before slipping into her mouth and tangoing with her tongue.

If air wasn't needed London wasn't too sure they'd ever pull away, the thrill of pleasure all too alluring to withdraw from. He leaned his forehead down against hers as she returned to standing, the heels of her feet touching the ground once again.

"That was..." she breathed, unable to finish her sentence.

"Bloody brilliant," he filled in for her.

She opened her eyes to find him smiling wide, his gaze starry and alive, driven with passion. Powerless to resist, she leaned on her tiptoes once again, breathing the words, "Just one more," before pulling him down into a deeper kiss, her arms wounding around his neck.

He didn't protest. He kissed her deep and hard, getting lost in the moment. There was no way back from this and though she had her reservations about him at first there was not a single doubt in her mind that she wanted him in her life, complications and all.

They only pulled away when some man, Dexter from two doors down she later recognised, walked past them. Giggling, London finally managed to untangle herself from Andrew and gather a semblance of herself back. She was still feeling flustered. That kiss did all the right things to her body and she was positively dying for more.

"I guess I should probably get going," he said, chuckling lightly.

"Yeah," she managed to get out, breathing heavily. "Call me?"

"Of course," he replied. He turned to leave but quickly turned back, deciding he had something important to say. He bit down on his lip before he said, "Goodnight."

She took a step forward, placed a chaste kiss on his lips and drew back. "Goodnight, Andrew," she said softly, her voice an almost-whisper.

She watched him walk towards the elevator and enter it. Her heart wasn't beating as fast anymore but it still sang a tune she was yet to familiarise herself with, a tune she loved already. There was a feeling of contentedness as she watched him press a button on the elevator and look back up, offering her one last smile before the doors pinged shut.