sonder

cacoethes

Chapter Eight

Cacoethes

(n.) an irresistible urge to do something inadvisable.

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The feeling that overcame me as Kali and I crossed the boundary from friends to kissing was one that I knew would later fill me with guilt. Everything in my body was addicted to her though and like a magnet, I was drawn to her by an undeniable force.

My hand snaked around the back of her neck, pressing the two of us closer together, the cool air shielding us from reality. For once, my head was void of all thought other than the feeling of Kali's hands on my body and I basked in the escape from myself.

Our movements led us down in the house, down the hall, and behind the closed door of what I assumed was Kali's bedroom. Kali's lips moved down my neck, sending shivers down my spine as I desperately tried to not focus too hard on everything that she was making me feel.

That's when I took notice of her room.... Everything about it screamed the polar opposite of the girl who I had begun to know at the store. Her walls were bare other than a world map tapped across from her bed and the only thing that truly showed her personality was the pile of books in the corner. Other than that, Kali's room seemed barren, completely lacking everything that I thought her room would be filled with.

I flipped our position so that I was now on top of Kali, my old habit of being in control coming out earlier than I was anticipating. Kali's eyes met mine, biting her lip as she nodded to me without having being asked anything.

"You're holding back." She whispers, her voice clouded over as just the moon provided enough light for me to take in her expression. She looked like she was daring me, something that drove me even more wild.

I scoffed at what she was suggesting. "As if." I announce, looking into her eyes once more before tugging at the bottom of her shirt. A smile graced her face as I took in every little detail of her. The energy of the room shifted as biology took over, both of us just happening to be along for the ride. My shirt soon followed and then a small pile of clothing fell next to her own personal library.

A story of our own was created without words, for her body was my paper and my lips were the ink.

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