Cigarette Smoke // FILLIE

Stay Here

m i l l i e

         Before his daring lips can venture anywhere near my own, I pull away from his presence while simultaneously stepping back from him.

"You should go. My mum would kill me if she found out I let you stay. A-And like she said, you need your rest." I quickly suggest as the tension between us dissipates slowly, my eyes now wandering just about anywhere besides his tall stature and head of tousled locks.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of a little teasing, Brit." Finn remarks teasingly, his fingers grazing over mine as he takes back the space I put between us.

I open my mouth dryly but come up without a coherent answer, only the locking of my sight on those dark orbs of his that captivate my entire being stands as an answer.

The boy holds his lower lip in between his teeth as he stares longingly into my eyes, his expression more that of admiration rather than the expected hunger seen in most men.

Wouldn't be the only thing that makes him different.

Before I know what I'm doing my hands are grasping onto his face and my lips are pressing themselves against his own, with the slight help of my tippy-toes.

Within a moment he's kissing me back as a sudden rush of warmth runs through my entire bloodstream, seeming to light a fire in me that only he has the flame to.

His hands bring themselves into my waist before he's suddenly picking me up by the bottom of my thighs, holding me in his arms as my own comfortably wrap themselves around his neck.

His arms carelessly drop me back onto my bed, causing a pause in our lip-locking as he now hovers over my giggling stature.

But before he can climb on the bed, I press my hand to his chest while wearing a giddy smile, "You better take off your boots there, curly."

A smirk quickly rises in his lips as he slips them off, his gaze swiftly coming back to me as he reconnects our lips.

My fingers start to tangle themselves in his long raven locks as his lips move perfectly with my own, as if they were made just for me- as if this was meant to be.

I can't help but feel a tug-a-war against this boy. Within the span of his visit in the late hours of the night I have wanted to curse him out and confess my love for him multiple times each.

If it weren't for my constant addiction to him, I'm sure he'd be long gone from my world. Like a drug, I convince myself he's bad for me just to come back to him at the simplest lure.

What the hell have you done to me, curly?

-+-

m i l l i e

"Shut up- quiet, quiet." I whisper swiftly, my eyes darting to the dark corner of my bedroom where the entry is located, and hopefully locked.

My hand holds over his plump lips, sore and softened from kissing mine, as I wait for the low creeks in the hallway to pass further down the hall where I know my mother is headed at this ungodly hour.

Is it really 5:30 am already?

I listen for her steady footsteps down the staircase, my ears seemingly perked up like that of a fox- all while a pair of slender hands run through my hair with ease at it's conditioned state.

At the distancing of the footsteps and the fading of the house's fragile noises, I let out a shallow breath I must've been holding far longer than needed before then turning back to the curly-haired teen laying shirtless beneath me.