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I stand before I become breathless, leaving her alone on her sofa. “I’m gonna go make us some cheese toasties.”
Nora hums, side eyeing me, assessing my sudden need for food. “You okay?”
“All good. Hungry,” I reply like a caveman who hasn’t discovered sentences yet. But I feel the panic rising in my chest when I turn the corner to the kitchen and as a memory washes over me.
My face presses against my bedroom door as I listen to the fourth argument this week, and it's only Tuesday.
“Maybe I don’t want to be married to you anymore Viv, have you ever thought of that? Maybe you make things more difficult for me and Grayson than it’s worth.”
“How fucking dare you. Grayson loves me. He barely sees you; how can he love someone who isn’t around for him? How can you think you’re the better parent here?” Mum shouts back to Dad.
“Oh, fuck off. You day drink. You forget to pick him up from school.”
A loud slapping sound echoes through the door. “Fuck you, Mark. Maybe I wouldn’t need to drink if you started giving a shit about your wife and son.”
“Don’t pull that shit with me, Viv. I have to work, and I work fucking hard.”
I open my door. I’ve had enough of this. Twenty minutes of shouting is my limit for today. Both sets of my parents’ eyes widen when they see me step into the hallway.
“I need you both to get a divorce. You hate each other and you’re making me hate you both, too.”
I watch her breathe. I watch her perfectly pink lips part as air puffs out between them. I watch her chest rise and fall with a steady rhythm matching my own. I watch her creamy, silky soft skin as it pebbles under my touch. My hand runs aimlessly up and down her arm, exactly how she likes it. Nora loves being tickled softly. So much so that she’s fallen asleep this time. Usually, she ends up snuggling into my side and falling asleep, but tonight I’ve got a front row seat to watch her just be. She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts.
Her dark, almost black hair falls around her face, contrasting with her creamy skin. She’s like day and night all in one picture-perfect package.
Watching her sleeping reminds me that she’s the only woman who I’ve ever done this with. Other hook-ups haven’t lasted an entire night, yet here I am, breaking all my rules and doingsomething morewith her. Now, I don’t like the thought of her not being with me.
I’m in way deeper than I ever thought I would be. I can’t seem to get this little beauty out of my head. And I’m scared. I want to be good for her, but I keep getting this overwhelming feeling that I’m not. My memory of my parents’ love is so filled with mistrust, arguments, heartache that I feel as though I don’t fully understand what love should feel like and that isn’t fair on her. I’d be dragging her into something I have no control over, and I don’t know what to do about that.
But earlier, when she was talking about the wedding and dates, I was honest. I don’t want her to go with anyone else. The thought makes me sick. I’m a mess and I only have myself to blame. I’ve been allowing myself to fall into this, whatever this is, with her, and I’ve never done any of these things before. I don’t date; I don’t sleepover; I don’t double tap; I don’t act like a total melt; But for her, I have been. And despite her not asking for anything, I’ve somehow landed in unchartered waters.
Her eyes flutter open before they focus on me.
“Are you that creep who watches women sleep?” Her voice is croaky from sleep, but she still manages to make my pulse speed up.
“Only one woman,” I say as I continue stroking her arm, trying to stop the tightening feeling in my throat that I can’t explain.
She moves her hands underneath her head, tucking them in like she’s getting comfortable, studying me for a second before one of my favourite smiles blazes across her face. It’s the type I dream about; honest, raw, sweet and fucking with my head in a big way.
I tangle our tongues, tasting her enough to leave her breathless. When I’m with her, I can’t see past wanting to touch her and it blinds me, leaving me more confused than I’ve ever been. I’ve never known how to show affection outside of sex and a cuddle, because I’ve barely been this intimate with anyone and I’m beginning to feel things that I don’t know how to manage.
“Nora?” I say, breaking our kiss.
“Hmm?” She shifts, resting her head against my bare chest.
My heart is beating out a gruelling rhythm with things I want to say. I’m being choked by my own head and heart, battling against one another while they decide on what I say next. Because what I say to her will change everything, and I don’t know ifI’mready for it. I don’t know if I ever will be.
I want her more than anything, but my parent’s arguments ring in my head like a constant reminder of what can go wrong.What if we end up like that? What if we’re wrong for one another a way down the road? What if we end up living in unhappiness? Fuck, I could never do that to her.
I exhale roughly, encasing her in my arms as I dip my head to her ear. “I want you.” It comes out in a breath, fuelled by the desperation of all the things I can’t vocalise.
The one thing that only I know for sure is that I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. Her head turns to meet my lips, her small body twisting as she places her soft hands to cradle my face, keeping me anchored to her. I push her back and lay my body over her naked body.
Her breath catches as I nuzzle into her neck while I free my cock from my boxers because right now, I have to feel her. To pour everything into her that I’m too fucking chicken to admit. Her legs fall open as I nudge her entrance, her moans drifting against the skin on my neck. She feels like velvet as I slide into her slowly, gently. Her arms wrap around me, pulling me closer, her legs lock around my waist, urging me deeper. Her whimpers tell me that she wants me… needs me, as much as I do her.
Pulling back to see her face, our eyes lock and I wonder if she can see everything I feel for her. Because in her eyes, I can see the whole fucking galaxy. I want to dive in and explore everything I didn’t know existed for me, but I’m scared of falling. Of being the only one who feels this way. Of hurting the only person who’s ever looked at me like this.
“Give me everything, Grayson. I need it. I need you,” she says, touching my face with a softness that I’ve never felt before.
