Caffeine

I do not own Reclaim the Game
Head over to beeyotch's profile to read the story.

Hi, Miss Ariesa! Thank you for creating Sean and Isobel!

Rated M for mature content
Read at your own risk.
Enjoy!

                            （＾～＾）

Those were just small talks over coffee, she tried to convince herself. Just innocent escapades while reminiscing things that happened in the past. Sure, they were had their history but it’s all in the past. Sure, she had already remembered him, how they were, but she cannot undo things. She wouldn’t want to. She has her Sandro. And that is enough… or is it?

Perhaps it is not, she admitted, shivering, outside a bachelor pad. Praying to heavens that he is home unlike those days when she had to stand for hours and go home dismayed.

He married his work after all, she giggled, feeling light. She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh before pressing a finger to his doorbell.

“Please be home. Please be ho—“ the door swung open revealing a dishevelled man in his naked glory. He had his white pants on, but that’s not the point.

“Isobel?!” he exclaimed as if seeing an apparition—a soaked and tipsy apparition.

She gave him a small smile. “Hi.”
“Jesus, why are you wet?”

“Because you’re dry?” she answered dumbly and giggled again. “There was an outpour. I did not watch the news.”

“And why are you drunk?” he added and pulled her by her arms inside.

“Why aren’t you?” she asked back and laughed. “I’m not, though. Just a glass of beer. Relax, Doctor, I drove here.”

“Fuck.” He whispered while trying to sit her still on his couch but she kept on melting down like a Jell-O, clinging to his broad shoulders as if her life depends on it.

“Yes, let’s.” she replied on her sultriest voice. He stiffened and looked at her droopy eyes. It’s probably the alcohol, he chastised himself, get a grip, Sean Denver!

“Let’s do that, fuck”, the vixen added
Before he lost his cool and jump unto her like a wild animal, he stood up and went inside his room to rummage for some dry clothes and a towel to dry her up.

“Damn, why does she have to show up in her most vulnerable and alluring state?” he exclaimed to no one and pulled his hair in frustration.

How long has it been? 20 years? Right. 20 antagonizing years of thirsting over her… of longing to feel her silky skin and have a taste of her sweetness. Then, a wave of guilt came rolling unto him.

He should’ve been more patient. He shouldn’t have been too greedy to ask for more than she could give. Things would’ve been different now. There were plenty of times when he would blame everything to himself. It was his entire fault.

Things happened, things that couldn’t be undone. He had Sammie, his sweet princess and she had Sandro, her treasured son.

Considering all things said and done, Isobel Lyana Laurel is still the girl he loved and will continue to love with all of him.
Yes, he’s not a Saint. There will always be the constant longing but he chose to content himself with just a glimpse of her and her life.

Just hearing her sweet laughs is enough to keep him going. He would be very careful with her.

He would wait for her even if it takes a lifetime.