This Won't Have A Name For A While

29. Like An Angel

When I woke the next morning, I was in a different bed again, lost in a sea of white sheets. Alone. Memories from the previous day came flooding back in full force, and I remembered the emotional turmoil of the entire day, and how we’d ‘made up’ afterwards. So if John and I had stopped arguing, why had he left me all alone in the bed? It didn’t make sense.

The clock on the bedside table told me it was only 8 in the morning as I emerged from the sheets and into the artificially cooled air. Beneath my feet, the flooring was cold too, and I padded out of my room, looking for John.

That didn’t take me long; he was in the kitchen, labouring away over the stove, cooking something that filled the kitchen with amazing smells. Instantly, I felt the confusion and annoyance melt away. He wasn’t in bed because he’d been making us breakfast! How sweet.

Stealthily, I crept up behind him and linked both arms around his waist, but I misjudged the reaction I’d get, and he almost threw the frying pan across the room in his surprise. Whoops.

–“Irene!”– He gasped, and I saw the shock all over his face as he turned to gaze at me, –“I really didn’t hear you coming!”–

–“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump. I just wanted to see what you were cooking,”– I replied softly.

–“Well, it’s an omelette with p-“– he started.

I cut him off with a gentle kiss, trying to go for his lips from behind, despite being so much shorter than him. It worked to an extent.

–“I also wanted to do that.”–

His initial surprise had been wiped from his face, replaced by a strange kind of admiration that I might be able to mistake for love. He grinned widely, then gave my waist a quick squeeze.

–“I thought you might. Sit down love, it’s nearly ready,”– he instructed, but with warmth in his voice.

I obeyed, and the breakfast he served was amazing. Where had he learned to cook like that? He was just full of surprises.

–“What do you fancy doing today, Irene?”– He asked, between mouthfuls.

–“Can we stay in today?”–

He considered it for a few seconds, then placed his cutlery down and wiped his mouth with his hand.

–“I’d love that, we did come here to spend time together, after all.”– he smiled.

I almost melted in my seat; I still couldn’t believe he wanted to spend free time with me. Of all people.

–“We could always go out this evening,”– I suggested, –“there must be some amazing clubs around here.”–

His face lit up even more.

–“Now we’re talking.”–

Later, after we’d tidied up and made ourselves presentable, we ended up in the garden, lounging around beside the pool on the mats. The weather was beautiful, almost a little too hot, and the sky was completely cloudless. My eyes were closed as I enjoyed the warmth - it left me in a sort of trance, and blended with the soothing lap of the waves on the beach below, I was almost lulled to sleep.

Until I felt a warm pressure on my lap.

My eyes flew open and I was immediately greeted by the sight of John curled up beside me, laying his head on my thighs. Gently, I ran a hand through his long hair and he groaned blissfully, closing his eyes and nuzzling in closer.

–“Hello, John,”– I bent over and whispered into his ear. He shuddered all over and gripped the top of my leg desperately.

–“Oh, how the tables have turned...”– I grinned.

As I took my hand away, he whined loudly in protest and grasped back for it. But instead of placing it back in his hair, he gently set it down on his chin. I smiled softly.

–“Don’t stop, I’m begging you. That’s so nice...”– he sounded strained.

He suddenly surged up to meet my lips from his compromised position, then pulled me down with him. We writhed about and got tangled up on the mat, completely unsure of who was on top and who was underneath. Yet again, I was amazed by John's ability to do such torturous things to me only by kissing me and letting his hands wander. I wondered if we’d end up doing it outside it. It looked that way, because he pulled my shirt off and revealed the rather revealing bikini I was wearing beneath it. At that, his eyes lit up with lust. He slipped two arms around me and unzipped the skirt, too, but instead of finding myself beneath him, I found myself being hoisted off the floor roughly. I gasped. What the hell was he doing?

–“John-“– I started, but was cut off as he whisked me away - toward the pool.

–“Don’t you dare throw me in there!”– I managed to speak finally, but it made no difference; we barrelled towards the water, and at the final moment before we plunged in, John halted.

Then, the bastard used all the momentum he’d used to stop, to launch me at full force into the pool. I shrieked. Then I hit it with a loud slap, and the water flooded my mouth and nostrils as I went under. An even bigger shock was the cold - it must’ve been 20 degrees cooler in there!

God I was mad. I needed revenge.

Once I found the bottom and got a good foothold, I used it to surge back to the surface, and I emerged into the warm air coughing and spluttering. My hair fell unceremoniously into my eyes and I couldn’t see anything at all. John was watching me from the poolside and killing himself laughing, almost bent double. It’s a good job I could swim, otherwise he might have killed me!

Mildly annoyed, I swam over to him more gracefully than I’d entered the pool, and caught him off guard while he was howling with laughter. I grabbed his ankle quite spitefully and pulled him in. Fully clothed. His yelp was almost higher than mine! This time I was the one to break into bouts of uncontrollable giggling when John surfaced, with his wet hair plastered to his face and soaked clothes stuck to his body. He didn’t look too happy, either. But he did look insanely hot. He attempted to shake some water out of it, but he only succeeded in looking like a wet dog.

–“Now THAT’S karma!”– I grinned at him.

At first he only scowled, but that soon dissolved into fits of laughter from the both of us, and we had to use the pool wall to support ourselves.

–“I love you, Irene.”– He admitted after the hysteria had subsided. The protective arm around my waist showed me that, too.

I pressed my face into his soaked shirt.

–“I love you too, John,”– I almost sobbed into the material - it was a good job he couldn’t see my face right now, as I’d probably start crying right in front of him.

I was starting to think that this relationship could work out in the end.