Most girls would be jealous of Calliope Draycott. She seemingly has it all. The friends, the money, the boyfriend, and in a few years, if all goes to plan, she'll have the job too. So why doesn't she feel happy? It's after a disastrous family dinner...
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I can't believe it.
He kissed me. He actually kissed me.
It took him long enough.
Then he looks down at my feet. They're bare, cold and wet.
Though, if I'm being honest, cold is a bit of an understatement. They're freezing. I really should've put some shoes on before I ran off after him, but I was too scared that he'd walk away and never come back.
I'm not worried about that now.
'You're not wearing shoes,' he says with a confused look on his face. 'Why aren't you wearing shoes?'
My thumb strokes his cheek. 'I was scared I was about to lose you. Shoes didn't seem important compared to that.'
He sweeps me off my feet, literally, and holds me in a way that has me picturing where we could be in the future. It's a nice picture. I'm wearing a pretty white dress and he's carrying me over the threshold of our home. It's a perfect picture.
So instead of complaining, or telling him that I could walk, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek.
I can hear him mumbling to himself, not complete sentences, but just snippets. I hear enough to get an idea of what he's saying though. 'I'm not letting her get sick.'
He carries me until we're back in the house, and I can't see Isaac anywhere, which is probably for the best. When we get to the hallway, he slowly puts me down, his hands sliding up from my legs to up my torso, the soaked top following his hands as it rides up my body.
I might be cold (ok, freezing) from the rain, but where he's touched, my skin feels like it's on fire. His hand then takes mine, and he looks around, as if he's unsure of what to do now.
So I smile widely at him, and lead him up the stairs, sending a quick glance his way as he follows me up them. It's not his first time in my room, but he seems so shy and quiet at the moment you'd think it was. He's standing in the corner, awkwardly, and I have to bite back a laugh.
Then his eyes are on my lips and he grips my desk tightly. I take a step over to him, a smirk on my lips, but he doesn't move. If anything, his grip on my desk only tightens.
When I'm close enough to him for him to pulls me close, he does, and my hands tangle themselves in his wet hair.
'I need to get you a towel and some dry clothes,' I say quietly, but I don't make any effort to do what I've just said.
He doesn't seem to mind though, because as my fingers weave through his hair, he closes his eyes and lets out a relaxed sigh.
I lean forward and trace kisses across his jaw line. I don't know how I never noticed just how defined his jawline is until now.
He lets out a quiet moan, and it sends thrills throughout my body. 'Will you stay tonight?' I ask him.
He nods his head, but I need to hear him say the words. He's the only one that makes me feel this needy, because while I don't necessarily need him - because I'm fully capable of being independent - I've never wanted someone around as much as I want him.
