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"One day Melody, I am going to spill myself all over your body, mark you as mine. You have always been mine." When did she get so close? Just now, realizing that she is kneeling right at the shower door, licking her lips while watching his pleasure drip down the glass pane.
Quickly rushing out of the bathroom before she does something she will inevitably regret, Melody throws herself on Marisol’s bed. Trying to calm her nerves and slow her heart rate.
Nash: Sweet dreams, Melody.
Closing her eyes with a ghost of a smile on her lips, she does just that.
Chapter Seven
Melody
"Move bitch." Marisol whispers loudly, shoving Melody with urgency. "Wake up, Melly. Melly, wake up. I need to tell you something." Rubbing roughly at her eyes Melody rolls off the comforter. She fell asleep on top of them after, well, after she was witness to the hottest shower.
"What time is it?" She asks, her voice raspy from sleep.
"Who cares, Melly? I have to tell you something super important." Marisol is kneeling on the bed now, hovering over her, mere centimeters from her face
"Ok, I'm here. Marisol, what's happening?" Melody sits up, trying to get her bearings.
"I may have done something." Marisol giggles.
"Marisol, are you drunk?"
"Nope, okay, yes, maybe a little." She says as she plops back down on the full-size bed. They eally don't fit on this thing.
"What did you do?" Melody pulls her closer, trying to get Marisol to focus.
"I told him yes, that I would do it." She sighs dramatically. Rolling over on her side
"Do it, do it? With who? With Peter?" Melody asks, struggling to keep up with the conversation, her brain slow with sleep.
"Who's Peter?" Marisol’s face scrunches up in confusion.
"Peter? The guy you were just with. You know? At the bar.” She says in exasperation. “I saw your hand on his crotch, Marisol." Melody reminds her.
"Oh right! Him. No, I gave him a blowie in the car. Fucker didn't even last two minutes. What a waste." She huffs, breathing onto Melody's face.
"Jesus, Marisol, go brush your teeth or something," Melody says, suddenly more than a little irritated to have dick breath blown on her. Snapping out of her irritation, “Wait, what are you going to do and with whom?”
“Marisol! You can’t just leave it like that.” She pushes at her as soft snores escape Marisol’s mouth. She is asleep, mouth open, arms curled under her chin.
She looks almost peaceful, not like kittens napping in a field of wildflowers, but more like the quiet of the eye of a hurricane.
Reaching for her phone, Melody checks the time. The clock reads 5:15 a.m., so she may as well get up. Perhaps this is her sign to go for a run before it gets too hot.
Running had been a refuge last year, a way to burn off the nervous energy that she could never escape. Like her body can't relax. Always leaving her with the feeling that something big or important was about to happen. She had taken a few weeks off this month, so she should definitely get back into that habit before she loses her pacing entirely. Not that she had a fast pace to begin with.
Walking into the restroom, the memory of last night comes rushing in. It’s spotless now, but she will never see that shower door the same way again. The image of Nash losing himself in his own pleasure takes root in her brain and just won't let go.
Giving herself a mental shake, she goes through her morning rituals, brushing her teeth and putting her hair up in a messy bun.
Light rushes up through the adjoining door. Quietly, with running shoes in hand, she makes her way to the living room before any awkward chance encounters with Nash.
Rosa, like a crazy person, was already in the kitchen quietly humming to herself while making breakfast tacos by the dozen it looks like.
"You're the first one up, Melody! Bravo! That's wonderful. Do you want a taquito, Mija?"
"Good morning, Rosa! I'm going for a run first, but save me some, please!" She says as she rushes out the door, just as Nash exits his room. She can hear him stomping away upstairs.
