“The one I know. Colours that sweep above you like a painted canopy.”
I notice the way his face lights up when he mentions it.
“I love getting to know all these different layers of you,” I smile.
At first Marco is quiet.
His thoughts drift someplace else.
But when he speaks, his voice holds a new kind of gravity.
“Did you mean what you said before?”
“That you went to Harvard?” I laugh. “No.”
“That you're falling deeper for me every day.”
I bury my face in his chest.
I can’t deny how I feel, not anymore.
A slow nod confirms it.
A squeeze of his hand.
Marco's eyes are glistening when he squeezes back.
???
A rumble echoes in the distance.
“Was that your belly?” I tease. “I should feed you. We haven't eaten properly since noon.”
“That was definitely thunder.” He stands to his feet. “Might be a storm coming.”
We walk to the railing, scanning the horizon.
But my eyes divert south.
“Cute butt.” I give him a slap. “Where do we order burgers at two in the morning? You want our usual post-coital feast?”
He nods half heartedly.
His face is solemn.
The storm shifts closer to shore, clouds thickening above us as lightning taunts from afar.
We find the swipe card and rush to put on robes before our food arrives.
Poor delivery guy isn’t ready for that kind of tip.
They probably won't step inside, but I rinse the cum from the outdoor railing just in case.
Marco reassembles the cushions on the seats.
The wind is picking up pace.
Even with the door and windows shut, we hear it wail as we quell our appetites.
