She carefully gets into the mercilessly swinging boat, taking advantage of the driver who is offering her some help, giving her his arm for support. She tries to get a least a little bit comfortable in the rather hard seat, placing her luggage aside, waiting for the men to turn on the engine and soon the roaring sound vibrates in the air.
Besides she wants to forget the situation that happened at the airport, and the annoying guy who actually caused it, at least in her opinion. She ran into him, all by accident, spilling the coffee she was holding all over herself. He, despite being perfectly clean, called her a heedless lass and told her that he's gonna be late because of her, but before she was able to come up with anything sensible to say, he was gone.
She watches the changing surroundings as they swim further down the canal, the Italian styled houses, people walking down the pavement, sweet couple on a bridge posing for another photo. There's no doubt her holiday will be perfect.
Soon the boat stops by the hotel, the driver ties it to one of the metal rings, and helps her to get out of it, handing her the suitcase. She pays him and leaves with a quick "goodbye" thrown over her shoulder.
She takes a few more steps before she finds herself standing in the middle of the luxury hall, staring at the expensive furniture and decorations, slowly approaching the reception. Suddenly she sees him, the guy from the airport, leaning by the countertop, talking with the pretty receptionist, maybe even flirting, but this is probably just her imagination. She sighs helplessly as she stands beside him, hoping he won't notice her, but luckily he's too busy with the petite brunette.
"Good afternoon miss," suddenly a deep male voice brings her back to the reality, and she raises her sight greeted by another employee ready to take care of her. "How can I help you?"
"I booked a room here, one of the apartments to be exact, for the name Elisabeth Wright," she states, and he nods, checking the reservation immediately, frowning as he looks at the computer screen.
"Miss I'm terribly sorry, but I believe there's a mistake in your reservation," he says, looking at her with an apologetic expression.
"What do you mean?" She asks, already becoming slightly irritated. She's been waiting for this vacation since she graduated just a week ago, and now he says that there's a mistake? That must be some kind of a joke, right?
"Your reservation messed up with-" before he's able to finish the sentence, his co-worker, the petite brunette, cuts him off.
"With mister Depp's one."
"What?" Suddenly the dark-haired guy beside her, that 'mister Depp' she believes, speaks, truly puzzled and mildly annoyed because of the whole situation. He frowns when they lock their eyes, realizing that he's facing that damn lass from the airport. "It's you."
"It's me indeed," she admits bitterly, already feeling the tension between them slowly building, but before he can answer, she turns her attention to the receptionist again.
"Sir, what does it actually mean, because I don't quite get it? There's no spare room for me?"
"No, it's just we have only one room for both of you," he says, carefully picking his words, trying not to irritate those two people on front of him. "Before you ask, there's no chance that we would be able to find anything for you today, and we're terribly sorry. Of course, we'll do anything we can to help you, but tomorrow. I can only recommend one of you to search for another room for tonight."
"Thank you very much, but I'm not doing this," she snarls. "What kind of hotel is this? What kind of hotel messes the reservations like this? I booked this room and I'm not leaving until I get the keys."
"Miss, you're putting me in an uncomfortable situation," the receptionist chuckles nervously.
"Excuse me? I'm putting you in an uncomfortable situation? What's that even supposed to mean? I payed for the room and now I wanna-"
"Oh for fuck's sake," Johnny interrupts her, clearly getting tired of the countless accusations towards the poor staff. "Stop acting like a child, it's not their fault."
"Don't you fucking dare to talk to me like this," she mocks, a little louder than she intended, attracting the attention of a few elderly people standing behind her.
"All I wanted to say, before I got so rudely interrupted," he flashes her a significant glance. "Is that we can take the room together for that night since there is a bed and a spare couch, am I right?" He waits for the receptionist to nod, before he resumes. "Of course if that lovely lady wouldn't mind."
She huffs in annoyance, but soon realizes that there is no other way to solve their dilemma, so she agrees. "That lovely lady wouldn't mind."
* * *
He fumbles with the key for a split second, the action that is followed by the quiet click of the mechanism inside the lock, causing the door to open, revealing the luxury room to her praying eyes. They slowly drift from one place to another, taking in the vivid image in front of her - the coffee table probably made from some rich wood, satin cushions lied on the sofa, and a few other pieces of furniture, but the most important - huge glass door leading to the terrace that gives a visitor clear view of Venice; all of it truly breathtaking.
"Wow," she only manages to gasp, overwhelmed by the size and style of the room. She can only presume that the bedroom looks even better, even cosier, which she is about to find out soon, exactly when she steps inside, pushing the door open, catching the image in her eyes. "I'm taking the bedroom."
"Yeah sure, whatever," he just answers, following her steps, carrying his suitcase in one hand. "Oh no, I'm taking the bedroom," he adds as soon as he steps inside; the cozy bed seems to call him to lay down which is a pretty odd notion to be honest.
"Pretty please?" She begs, smiling sweetly at him, making him smile back involuntary. He can't help but notice how alluring she looks when she does so, and he lets his eyes wander further down, her blonde wavy hair cascading over her round breasts. Before she even gets a chance to realize that he's staring, he snaps himself out of the trance, looking back into her eyes. They have that particular shade of blue that reminds him of the glorious days of his teenage years when he used to visit one of his first girlfriends in her house by the sea. He still remembers how beautiful that summer was, how much he enjoyed sitting on the pier with his feet dangling over the edge, splashing the water from time to time, its color still vivid in his memories.
"If you ask so nicely," he agrees, knowing that he's not able to resist her, even though they met just a couple of hours ago. He slowly approaches the door, figuring out that maybe she needs a little bit of privacy, as soon as he hears her "thanks", but her voice stops him.
"I think it would be a lot of easier, if I knew your name," she says, blushing slightly; she really hopes he won't notice.
"Johnny," he simply states, and to be honest she thinks that the name fits him, really fits him which she finds oddly comforting; she doesn't know why exactly, but from the very beginning she's hoped he wouldn't be another 'Bob' or 'Tim'.
"Can I call you Lizzie?" He adds after a brief moment, and she nods; her name seems to roll off his tongue perfectly.
* * *
Why she has to fall for every single handsome guy she meets? Honestly she finds it utterly frustrating and less or more secretly hates it, and she can't help but let her mind wander to him, to how good he actually looks leaning on the railing, smoking a cigarette. She even considered joining him, despite not being a smoker, but the overwhelming wave of shyness stopped her, and now she ends up just watching him from her current position on the sofa.
She feels her belly tingling with excitement - the butterflies fluttering in her stomach as some people might call it - and the worst thing is that she equally likes it and hates it, but what she hates more is that she's too shy to approach him and ask him for a dinner or something, choosing the perv-staring option; how delightful.
"Care to join me?" He suddenly speaks, startling her, but he presumes what's on her mind now since he's noticed that she's been watching him, and that kinda goes with his thoughts, so he decides to give it a try and see where it will lead them.
"Sure," she says, relieved that she sounds normally, not like a nervous lass. She walks over to him, goosebumps rising over her bare legs when the cool evening air embraces her, and she catches herself thinking that he could replace it - what a pathetic thought, Lizzie.
They stand for a few minutes, both of them quiet, staring at the night city in front of them, sharing a few accidental glares from time to time, the ones that cause her to look away.
Suddenly he breaks the peaceful silence, his voice somehow softly fading into the night. "By the way I'm sorry for the situation at the airport. I didn't want to be rude or anything, I was just-"
"It's okay, I don't even remember what you are talking about," she flashes him a significant smile.
He offers her his cigarette, and she takes it, hoping that she won't choke on the smoke since it would be, well... embarrassing at least. She slips it between her lips, trying to get rid of the thought that it's as if they were kissing, at least according to her highschool friends, the ones that she would rather forget about, but still... she feels as if she was in highschool herself, standing with her crush, getting excited about some stupid shit such as the whole 'cigarette thing'.
"You know, I was kinda wondering if you would like to go out with me tomorrow," he offers casually, making her actually choke on the smoke.
"What?" She asks, slightly taken aback by the proposition, as soon as she regains her breath. "I mean... sure, why not?" She adds, trying to sound nonchalantly, but both of them know how she really feels about it - beyond excited.
In all honesty he kinda wants to kiss her now, but he's not quite sure whether this is a good moment or not, probably not, but he can't help but wonder how would she feel, how would she kiss him, would she throw her arms around his neck or just lay them on his chest, supporting her weight, or would she rather...
"Johnny?" Her sweet, melodic voice brings him back to reality, snapping him out of the trance, of his silly daydreaming, a childish habit that he's picked up from his teenage years, and still can't fully get rid of.
"Glad to hear that," he answers dream-likely, his voice somehow seems to come from far away for him which he finds pretty weird. He isn't looking directly at her, but he can feel her burning gaze traveling upon his skin, when suddenly she grabs his arms, making him turn fully towards her.
"What are you-" before he even gets a chance to finish the sentence, she stands on her tippy toes, pressing her willing lips to his. Her eagerness catches him out of the guard for a brief moment, but soon kisses back, dragging her closer to him by the hips. Her shaking hands find their place around his neck, her long nails scratching the nape lightly, making him shiver deliciously, all while he gently nips at her bottom lip, causing her release a quiet moan into his mouth and lightly rub against him for a little bit of the friction.
He groans sensually, pushing her up against the railing, gaining a pitchy squeak from her, and forces her to sit there and wrap her legs around the waist, his lips still devouring hers in a way that leaves her trembling in need, anticipating for more.
She kinda likes the thrill that if he loses the grip around her waist, she will fall down to the water a few floors below, but as the things gets heated, it comes as no surprise that she would rather get inside the cozy bedroom instead of staying here.
"Let's come inside," she whispers between the kisses, moaning when she feels his lips on the side of her neck, tongue tracing the rapid pulse. He hums something in response, and grabs her by the thighs, waiting for her to change the grip slightly, before he actually lifts her up from the previous sitting position, carrying her to the room.
He carefully lets her go on the hardwood floor beside the bed, their lips joining immediately as if caught in some lustful dance, wanting, willing to get the taste of each other again. They depart just for a moment that he needs to take off her simple white T-shirt previously tugged into the black high-waisted shorts, revealing the plain white bra covering her perky breasts from his praying eyes. He wastes no time in slipping a hand underneath the cup of her bra, the pads of his fingers brush lightly over her erect nipples, pinching and twisting them, gaining a few sweet whimpers from the girl, the ones that leave his dick throbbing for attention.
He feels the pleasant warmth radiating from her body, her skin is actually hot to touch which he finds even more exciting.
"We need these off," he murmurs into her ear, voice deeper than usually, tugging at the waistband of the shorts, leaving her skin tingling exactly where his fingers brushed it.
"Indeed we do," she agrees, pointing each of the word with a lazy kiss on the side of his neck; but that was before she realizes that the black panties she's wore doesn't quite match the bra - what a ridiculous insecurity. Lizzie relax, he won't even notice since he's too busy with other stuff, I guess...
He unbuttons the clothing, sliding them down her legs, brushing the junction purposely, smirking when she moans in response. She kicks them aside, her fingers tugging eagerly at his shirt, and he follows the lead, making a quick work of taking it off.
Her hands immediately slide up his toned chest, creating a burning trace on its way, carefully exploring every ridge and curve. In all honesty it's been quite a long time since she touched a man this way, so it's not much a surprise for her that even such a simple thing leaves her unbearably wet. She needs him now like no other person, she want him to touch her, to please her, and then repay him with the same - truly intoxicating feeling.
Before she knows it, he unclips her bra, sliding the straps down her arms, getting rid of the undergarment which joins the other clothes sprawled out on the floor. He pecks her lips for the last time, before he descents down, leaving a trace of sweet kisses and tiny bruises on the way. She gasps when he reaches the waistband of her panties, licking and sucking just above it, making her moan his name urgently.
Finally he obeys, taking it off slowly, teasingly, stroking her thighs in a soothing manner as he does so. Both of the remain in their positions, he kneeling in front of her, she standing completely naked, shaking with desire. He stares at her, hungrily devouring each tiny part of her bare skin with his eyes, making Lizzie want to slip a few fingers between her legs to ease the burning ache; he is such a tease.
Suddenly she pulls him by the hair, desperately trying to make him do something, searching for some relief from the blissful torture, but he escapes from her hands.
"I'll do as I please," he smirks, before licking a long stripe on her inner thigh, making her whimper in desire, feeling how her knees shake when he takes a firm hold on her hips. "You know, I actually think that you might wanna sit down."
She nods eagerly, so he gets up and gently pushes her towards the bed, crawling between her slightly spread legs. She feels his warm breath tickling her wet heat, and she whimpers his name in such a needy way that he almost moans back; God, what is she doing to him. The truth is that he makes her wait for so long purposely, half because he's taking his pleasure in teasing her and half because he knows that she will enjoy the long awaited thing even more.
She is perfect, in every sense of the word, pink and swollen, dripping wet only for him to lick it up - she has no idea how bad he wants her. He nuzzles her thighs, her pussy, he can almost smell her arousal which makes him wanna end this up here and just fuck her roughly into the mattress, but he won't do it; she's such a pretty creature and deserves a lot more than this.
"Johnny, Johnny, please," she moans again, arching her back, pushing her hips up, trying to make him touch her. "Please, it hurts."
"Where does it hurt?" He asks, kissing her clit lingeringly, causing her to squeal in delight. "Here?"
"Yes, here," she gasps, and as if in an act of mercy, he touches her for the first time, running the tip of his tongue along her slick folds, making her sigh in relief, giving in to his gentle caress.
"Just like that," she whines breathlessly, tangling her fingers in his silky hair, tugging at them lightly, trying to figure out whether he likes it or not, but his quiet groan is acknowledging enough.
"Like that?" He murmurs, giving her clit another gentle suck, and she practically cries out, already pulsing in his mouth, oddly close to her release. She's never felt that kind of pleasure, and she can't get enough, it's intoxicating, addictive, delicious. She's not able to understand why she's never let anyone perform something like that on her, but she was always worried that they won't like the taste, the smell, so every time someone offer her to do it, she denied, regretting the decision later on.
As the time passes, she wants more and more, all of the untouched parts burn for attention, but he's giving all he can to her, lapping faster, sucking harder, making her almost cry out. She wraps her legs around his neck, absimidently pressing the calves to his bare back, feeling how his tongue circles the nub and moves back to tease her entrance.
"God, you have no idea how sweet you taste," he groans, voice low and sexy, and the only thing she's able to do is let out a needy moan. To be honest he's taking his pleasure in that, and both of them are more than aware of the fact which makes her shiver in delight. He's kinda missed it since his last girlfriend didn't really like oral which he always found pretty weird. She especially hated when he kissed her afterwards, she hated the taste upon his tongue; she preferred those slow love-making sessions and never let him take her as his pleased, it always had to be exactly as she wanted, she never cared about him and his needs, and not just with sex but with everything which was the main reason why they broke up. He's more than glad that they did since it gave him the opportunity to meet the beautiful blonde, or more like have a hook up with her, and to be honest he feels lucky that he has her just for him, that she's moaning because of him.
She feels filthy, like a dirty, needy bitch who can't compose herself, but she finds it even more arousing, and the truth is that she's never performed anything sexual with a guy she wasn't with, never let anyone push her into doing stuff such as this, never would spread her legs for a random person, but he's had her wrapped around his finger since the first time he looked at her in a certain way.
He licks a long stripe up her folds, catching the dripping wetness before it leaks on the expensive sheets, focusing on her clit afterwards, trying to bring her closer to the release. She arches to his touch, throwing her breasts in the air, and he can't help but grip them, making her cry out his name, toss and turn like crazy.
The air in the bedroom feels hot, his hands seem to burn her skin, tongue hot against her pussy, so, so hot, and she knows she's close, so, so close.
Suddenly he stops; why is that, why does he stop, why now? She whines in despair, trying to pull him back by the hair, but he escapes from her touch, climbing on top of her, pressing their chests together.
"I'm sorry baby, but I need you so bad," he practically groans and lays a gentle, apologetic kiss on her lips, before he gets up, making a quick work of taking off his jeans, adding them to the messy pile on the floor.
"I hope you'll make it up for me," she smirks, propping herself on the elbows, watching him undressing, laughing when he almost trips in process.
"I promise you won't be disappointed," he mutters under his breath, finally joining her on the plush mattress, sighing when their bare skin meet.
He gently brushes the blonde hair out of the way to lay a passionate kiss on her lips, flicking his tongue to taste her again, while he slowly grinds into her, making her let out an urgent moan, as if begging him to continue. He decides to stop teasing her, sliding inside her in one swift movement, causing the girl to gasp in shock.
"Fuck, Lizzie," he groans, her name rolling of his tongue in such a filthy way that she moans back, making him smirk smugly. He loves that she's so touchy and responsive to any of his actions, he loves all of the little sounds she makes, every small movement she does, he loves how she arches to his touch, how she always wants more and more - she's truly insatiable.
She's pulsing around him uncomfortably, just on the blink of her orgasm because of the previous experiences, needy and frustrated.
Finally he thrusts, and she whimpers again, arching her back from the mattress when he hits the right spot, making Lizzie throw her head back, giving him the perfect access to the usually pale skin, now reddening with arousal. He sucks the flesh, leaving a few harsh nips on the way, slowly licking over the bruises which she involuntary compares to the oral he gave her, and that simple thought pushes her over the edge. She cries out his name, clenching around him, making him groan deeply, and releases, the pulsing movements almost causes him to reach his own high.
He works her through the orgasm, giving slow, rhythmic thrusts, keeping her close to him until she comes down and finally stops shivering.
"More," she manages to moan, her mind still a little bit fuzzy in its orgasm-driven state.
"Darling, you need to be more specific here," he teases, flashing her a sly smirk.
"Just make me feel good again, please," she whines, already desperate for some sort of treat, and he knows he's not able to deny her any pleasure, so he starts again, this time faster and more rapid, making the girl throw her head back again as a few soft mewls slip past her lips.
He takes a firm hold on her hip and her shoulder, trying to steady himself, before he leans in for a bruising kiss that leaves her lips swollen, that leaves her gasping for air, wanting more; how is he even able to do this - kiss her with so much passion and leave her wanting more? She's never got the chance to meet a man like him, someone experienced, someone who knows exactly how to touch a woman, who knows how to please her. Every single caress, from a gentle stroke of his fingertips upon her heated skin to a simple French kiss, sends a delicious shiver up her spine, and she can't contain herself, can't get enough of it, of him.
She squeaks when he digs his blunt nails in her skin, probably leaving crescent moon shapes that will form bruises later on, but she can't care less since her main focus is something else, something buried deep inside her.
"Fuck," he curses under his breath. "So tight. I bet you haven't had a good fuck for a while, have you?"
"I haven't," she answers, staring right into his eyes, fascinated with the irises that seem black in the dim lighting; she's never seen anything like this before, and she can't look away.
He's breathing heavily, dancing on the edge of his own release, trying to hold back, and the fact that she's so tight, so wet, so warm around him doesn't make it any easier for him.
"And so wet," he resumes after a short break. "Tell me, how does it feel?"
"So good," she moans in response, closing her eyes in bliss, but he wants her to look at him, so he squeezes her throat lightly, just enough to gain her attention, he doesn't want to choke her or anything.
"Just good?" He raises a single brow, giving her a rapid thrust that makes her actually scream his name. "Tell me more, sugar."
"Better than ever," she coaxes, her voice weak, eyes huge and teary - vulnerable. "Johnny, please faster, I'm so close."
He does as she asks him, increasing the pace to the point when bed is squeaking, hitting the wall with loud, rhythmic thuds, making her arch from the mattress again. She rakes her nails down his back, receiving a sharp hiss from him, and to be honest he likes the thought that she marks him as hers, that the scratches will burn during the morning shower, that they will remind him of the sexy blonde and their lovely time together.
Finally the particular hard thrust he makes, pushes her over the edge, and she releases with another loud cry which leads him to his own long-awaited high. He gives her a few more sloppy thrusts, before he falls on the top of her with a heavy sigh, and she wraps her arms around his frame, bringing him close to her shivering body.
He presses their lips together for a lazy kiss which turns out to be rather breathing into each other's mouths than actually kissing, and rolls over, pulling her with him. She lays on top of him, their skin sticking together because of the thin layer of sweat, and nuzzles her head in the crook of his neck, still able to smell the rich scent of his perfumes. She still feels him pulsing inside her, and clenches around him involuntary, gaining a sensual groan from him, the one that lights a new fire in her lower stomach, causing another amount of moisture to pool between her legs.
Neither of them dares to break the silence, just enjoying each other's sweet presence and the fact that they are still joined so intimately. What she finds amazing is how smooth his skin is, how he keeps her pleasantly warm, how peaceful, how good it feels to be in his arms.
A few more minutes pass before he lifts her from his lap and pulls out, gaining a needy whimper from the equally needy girl. She crawls back on his lap immediately, pressing her body to his as close as possible, letting him wrap an arm around her.
"Johnny?" Her sweet voice breaks the silence, creeping between his thoughts to gain his attention. "Wanna change the room tomorrow?"
"What?" He chuckles, surprised because of the silly question she's just enquired. "Of course I'm staying with you."
"Well, that's..." she fumbles over the words, trying to hide the obvious blush that covers her cheeks. "That's... fine, very fine. God, I'm not making any sense."
He can't help but laugh at her adorable behavior, causing her to blush even more. "But wouldn't it look, well... obvious?" She resumes after a brief moment, as soon as she regains her composure. "I have no intentions in offending you, but you're older, and wouldn't it look like-"
"No, it wouldn't," he snaps, sort of bitterly, immediately regretting the rude tone he's used on her; she's just having second thoughts, all of those little insecurities which is pretty normal in their situation. "Sorry babe," her heart skips a beat when he calls her by the pet name, using that deep voice, as if he knew the affect it has on her - this man will be death for her, certainly. "I didn't mean to make it sound like this."
"No, it's fine," she simply shrugs it away, immediately changing the subject. "You know, I'm kinda wondering how old you are."
He chuckles when he hears her finally say it out loud, since he's known for some time now that it's been bothering her, but the same thing could be said about him, because she looks pretty young herself.
"How much would you give me?"
"Judging by your sexual abilities?" She raises a single brow, but before he gets a chance to respond, she resumes. "Seriously though, I would give you like thirty five."
"I wished," he laughs, but to be honest it kinda flatters him that she thinks so.
"Forty? Honestly I have no idea," she guesses, actually hitting the point this time, gaining a barely noticeable nod followed by a soft hum from him.
"Really? I wouldn't have thought." She smiles softly at him, before getting straight forward to what she wants to say. "Now tell me, how old do you think I am?"
"Judging by how tight your pussy is?" He mimics her, making the girl roll her eyes which doesn't get past his attention. "Then you must be in your early twenties, something like twenty three, am I right?"
"Twenty two," she corrects him. "But you were close enough."
"Wow, I'm flattered," he replies, theatrically lying a hand on his heart.
"You'd better be," she laughs, trying to sound at least a bit serious, but fails miserably, causing him throw his head back in laughter.
"You know what? I'm kinda glad we ended up in the same room," he speaks after a moment if silence, a comfortable silence which is an odd feeling for her; usually lack of words isn't a good thing while spending time with someone (excluding her best friend), she always feels that kind of a pressure that she has to bring up a new subject as fast as possible, otherwise the tension between the people gets, well... thick; but with him it feels different which is a good sign after all.
"Sure you are," she rolls her eyes again, and he comes to the conclusion that she does it a little bit too much, not that he minds though, but her parents probably do - weird thought, isn't it?
"No, I don't mean it only that way. Don't get me wrong, I..." he's quiet for a brief moment that he needs to find a suitable word to describe what is about to come out of his mouth, "... would be lying, if I said I wasn't enjoying myself with you, but you seem to be an interesting person, and-"
"And you would like to get to me closer, even if it's possible to get closer than by fucking me," she finishes with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, making him roll his eyes for a change - she's sassy, and let's say it straight, since there's no point in lying to yourself - it turns him on.
"You're different, different than any other woman at your age, any other woman I've ever met," he states and she's about to interrupt him with another sarcastic comment, but it intrigues her, so she remains silent. "And I don't know what it is, but I want more."
His statement leaves her speechless for a moment, her previous thoughts swim through her mind, and before she knows it, she starts talking. "Are you serious? Because I feel the same, but I think you're more than aware of that, like you've probably noticed the way I've been looking at you, or how nervous I got around you, how I couldn't even form a simple sentence which is actually embarrassing, I have to admit, but since you were honest with me, I should pay you back with the same, so here's the equally embarrassing truth - a lass falling for you."
She looks away, feeling the traitorous blush forming upon her cheeks, but he gently holds her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes again. She opens her mouth to apologise for being too direct, but he shushes her with a simple kiss, flicking his tongue over hers accidentally, making her moan quietly, before he actually releases her lips.
"Baby, there's no need to apologise," he murmurs, brushing her lips as he speaks since they are still just inches apart from each other, causing her to shiver in delight once more this night. "Because you're sitting on the lap of the man who's falling for you."
Suddenly she feels dizzy, dizzy because of the happiness, dizzy because he's taken an interest in her, a grown up man has taken an in her - a lass, barely a woman, with stupid hair that never wants to look decent, with ugly freckles on her cleavage, with ridiculously big eyes that don't even match her face - no, that can't be truth.
"What?" She squeals like a schoolgirl, making him let out a cute, little chuckle that instantly warms her heart, and before she knows it, he pulls her down to lie on top of him. She can't help but laugh, burying her head in his shoulder, but soon she lays down on the mattress properly, snuggling closer to his side.
"I really mean what I've said," he resumes as soon as she gets settled comfortably with her arm across his chest and legs tangled with his.
"I know," she whispers, so quietly that he can barely hear it, but it's enough for him to smile contently, even though she can't see it.
"Lizzie?" He asks, but when he doesn't receive any answer, he looks down a her, discovering that she's fast asleep by his side. "Oh well, goodnight then," he whispers this time, afraid to speak any louder because he has no intentions in waking her up since she's probably tired.
He reaches out to extinguish the light, causing her to moan, but not wake up, and lays down beside her again, giving the lovely girl one more look, before he closes his eyes, slowly beginning to drift away to the peaceful sleep.
