AllFreeNovel
Share Us
HANNA
19 Years Old
"Jameson," I shake him gently, keeping my voice calm as he shuffles in his sleep, flailing his arms and mumbling incoherently.
He jerks awake, sweat dripping from his forehead and the ends of his dark hair as they hang over his forehead. He roams his hands over my shoulders, "Oh my God, are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
His voice is full of anguish. Regret cracking his words.
"No," I assure him, "you didn't."
He sits up, his breathing still ragged. My eyes trail his skin, his shirtless torso, his boxer briefs hugging his hips, his toned stomach. I trail my fingertips up his back and over his shoulders, feeling a warmth pool between my thighs. I've tried to wait until the right time, and it's been damn hard, and honestly, I think I'm ready to stop waiting.
I move my hands around his neck, kissing the top of his shoulder lightly. He untangles my arms, quickly standing, basically shoving me away.
"I can't do this," he growls.
His tone becomes sharp and aggravated as he makes his way into our bathroom, slamming the door.
I know him well enough to leave his temper alone. Chasing him down when he's like this is asking for trouble, but I do it anyway. I'll always do it anyway. I don't want him shutting me out like this.
"Are you okay?" I whisper through the shower curtain, his silence not so assuring.
"Babe, please just talk to me."
At this point, I'm begging.
The water shuts off, and he wraps a towel around his naked body. My eyes roam over all the places I want to touch, the parts of him I want to be buried deep inside me. I'm so in love with him it's blinding, and I forget all the bullshit I deal with. I'm ready for everything with him. I want it all.
"Can we please just talk?" I ask as he pulls his clothes out of drawers, quickly tossing a t-shirt over his head. He starts to pull his sweatpants over his hips, but I stop him, my hands blocking their path, right at his hips.
His breathing slows, almost as if he's not breathing at all.
"What?" his breath hitches, "What are you doing?"
"Jay, I just… I think it's time that we," I stop talking, trailing my fingers right against his toned V, his length growing beneath my hand.
He pushes me back, both hands planted firmly on my upper arms, "No."
I feel the tears prick my eyes, the rejection basically eating me alive. Is this how he felt every time I said no? Every time I said I wasn't ready?
"Jay, please. Don't shut me out."
He pulls his pants over his hips, "I just can't do this with you."
"Do what? Be here? Have sex? What can't you do?"
His fists clench at his sides, "All of it. None of it."
I feel him slipping away as he pushes his feet into his shoes, "Don't leave," I plead.
"Can't you see that I have to? I'm always going to be like this!" He yells, "I'm always going to be the boy that fucks up. The one that breaks your heart, the one that makes you cry. I don't want to do that anymore, Hanna. You deserve better."
I grab his hand, my heartbeat in my throat, "I want you. I only want you."
My sobs become louder, and his words are like a kick to my gut, "I don't want you, Hanna."
His feet pound through the apartment, and the door slams a final time before I collapse. The pain in my chest trumps the slamming force of my knees against the hardwood floor.
