Breathe (On Hold Indefinitely)

September 14, 2015 Night

When my eyes flutter open, I'm lying on my bed, moonlight peeking under my curtain. I must've knocked out, I don't even remember going to sleep. Something feels off and I freeze, all peacefulness lost to sinking dread. He shouldn't be here, but I know he is before I even look. Turning my head slightly, all I can see is heavy, leather clad boots tied over dark jeans. Rolling over I face him. He looks different today, more attractive : a lithe, swimmer like body, clad in a black t-shirt with dark spiky hair. Realizing my own lust, I immediately am disgusted with myself.

Face hard, his eyes meet mine, baring a challenge. My first instinct is to move closer to him, to fall into warmth, my eyes never leaving his. Instead I look down at his boots, etching every detail in my mind: the straps winding around the ankle, the black material devoid of any scuffs, the odd chains and buckles adorning the sides. After a minute or so, I look back to his face. While his face hasn't changed, his eyes are clouded with frustration and anger, perhaps even disappointment. I swallow and casually shift back from him, trying my hardest not to display any fear. However, my eyes must have betrayed me because he tilts his head, mouth curling into a mischievous smile. He begins scooting toward me as I try frantically to wiggle backwards until my back is pressed firmly against the wall. Grabbing the pillow behind him, he positions it under his head then lays so he's nose to nose with me.

Grabbing a strand of my long, dark hair, he begins twisting it around his hand, until opting for another. He's so close I can feel heat rolling off of him, drawing me closer against the biting chill of the room. However, its not until he begins to rub my arm that I give in and curl my head against his chest, causing him to chuckle softly. He wraps his arms around me, squeezing tightly and, surrounded by warmth, I fall asleep.

☩

When I awaken, he's propped up on one elbow and is staring down at me, once again playing with my hair. We stare at each other for a minute, his eyes once again offering a challenge. When I don't look away he leans down face nearing mine. I abruptly turn my head, pushing him away. Sighing, he plops back in frustration, arms propped behind his head for support. We stay like that for a bit, him staring at the ceiling, and me not noticing the way his dark hair curls under his ears or how the muscle in his jaw works or how he occasionally bites at the silver ring adorning his lower lip . Nope, completely not noticing.

When the silence becomes too much, I release a small growl, sitting up abruptly. "You need to go, Alex. My dad will be home soon." I crawl across the bed, careful not to touch him, and pick up the boots he had kicked off at some point, possibly while I was sleeping. Scanning the room, I eye a leather jacket draped over a chair and, assuming that it's his, throw that at him too. He catches the jacket before it hits his face, sets it back on the bed, and begins lacing his boots. Exiting my room, I head down the stairs and unlock the front door.

He heads down the stairs, quieter than I'd thought possible wearing those boots. I open the door and watch as he walks through it, his eyes never leaving mine. "Don't come back."

On the other side, he leans down and I think he's going to try and kiss me again. Instead he circles his arms around me lightly, murmuring as he leans back. "You'll remember me eventually."

With that I shut the door, watching as he walks towards the moonlit woods. I wait until he disappears from sight before climbing up the stairs to my room. Collapsing onto the bed, I take note of the musky scent saturating the sheets, his warmth on the pillow. The sheets would have to be washed tomorrow. I roll over, huffing when I notice he's replaced the jacket over the back of the chair. For the third time that night, I fall into a dreamless sleep.

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So, in all honesty, I have no idea (okay a little bit of idea) where I'm going with this story. Also, what about the writing style. It's still in development but I'm publishing because I need feedback. Please let me know what you think. (Be as harsh as possible.) I know it seems a bit confusing now, but there's a point to it.

Thanks,

DreamingNikol