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He painted me in every painting in the room –my back, my legs, my face…
Me –as I slept… me –as I laughed… me –with his head between my legs… me… me… me…
I didn’t know how long I stayed in that room, but I studied and touched each one of his paintings. I was sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by his declaration of love –if it wasn’t love, I didn’t know what else could be- when I heard his voice, “Melody?”
I didn’t turn back to face him, not trusting my voice or my reaction. Mostly, I was afraid of his reaction, what if he didn’t mean any of the things he said last night?
“Melody… when I didn’t see you… I thought you left,” he rasped behind me. I heard his steps coming closer.
“I left…” I whispered, slowly standing to my feet. Instead of facing him I walked toward the painting I loved the most –it showed the side of my face as I slept face down, the sheet was tangled around my hips and my legs. I could see the soft swell of my breast, the curve of my hips, the dimples on my back, just above the curve of my ass. He captured a moment so magical I looked at it like it was something surreal, like it wasn’t me in the painting.
“But then you came back,” he said, hope was evident in his voice. I could feel his damp and warm skin behind me when he wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Don’t make me regret it,” I whispered, letting him turn me around.
He leaned down to me, caressing my lips softly, carefully, with his lush lips. His kiss was so different, so hesitant I had never experienced him like this. He was always so sure of everything, so confident of his every move, but in that second he was a new man –a man that was so insecure of my reaction. We were like the mirror reflection of each other, then.
“I won’t make you regret it, babe… not again,” he whispered against my lips.
“Kellan… I don’t want to fall more than I’ve already done if you’re not willing to try,” I said, closing my eyes as a tear threatened to fall.
“I want to try. I’m not saying I’ll be good, I’m not saying I won’t fuck up, but I won’t give up on you, on u
s, on whatever you want to call this between us. I’ll try my hardest,” he promised with certainty.
“That’s enough… that’s enough for me… for now,” I smiled, hugging him, but he pulled back a little earlier than I wanted him to.
“I know we need to talk more, I know I need to make things up to you so you can forgive me, but I need to say one thing before I fuck you… no, they call it making love, right?” he chuckled.
Nodding I waited for his words.
“I love you, Stranger.”
