You meet a man at a bar, people stare and he takes you to karaoke. Well, you take him, but it was his idea. You think. You have one of the best nights of your life, happy with just the one.
But, he's here for two weeks. That's it, though. Just four...
You wake up in his bed, covers tucked around your limbs and only dents left on one side as you roll over in search of his skin. He's not there and the sheets are cold. You take his place anyway, face nuzzling his pillow as you take him in.
A part of you wants to get up and get changed, knowing it's your last full day together before he heads to London and then on to Europe after that. Most of you wants to lie there, waiting for him to come back and once he does, pretend it's morning all day. You'd ignore your phones and eat breakfast for dinner, ignoring the setting sun.
Last night had been fun, though your head hurt for it. A slight pulsing behind your eyes in a need for water.
You'd started off at pool, wanting to be better at him at something because it would definitely not be singing. He'd potted a red ball first, so you were yellow. And it was going well until he'd walk over and place his hand at the small of your back, fingers tickling at the frills of your underwear as he'd whisper in your ear.
"Don't miss."
"Mmm, it would be a lot easier if you weren't harassing me." You said, turning to kiss him and smelling the beer on his breath.
"That would be a lot easier if you weren't so beautiful." He whispered with a kiss to your cheek, teeth scraping slightly against your skin as you smile.
You did miss. And soon he was on black. Nothing you did worked to distract him. The only thing that took his attention away was his phone, he almost snatched it away from your table as it lit up. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach again, thinking of London and his cancelled plans.
His ball hit everything but the net waiting to catch it and it smashed against your yellows, pushing them closer to the holes. He stood there, leaning against his cue as he typed. It wasn't the same face as before but he bit at his lips, rolling them between his teeth.
"You okay?" You asked as you stood up, eyeing the table ahead of you to decide your next move.
"Yeah, sorry. Just last minute stuff." He slipped his phone into his pocket. "Sorry."
Doubt ate away at you as you ended up potting two balls and with only the black on the table, you missed the winning shot.
"You shouldn't have missed." Seb says, hand tickling at the small of your back as he passes, leaning over the wood and felt to line up his shot.
He'd won.
Then you played doubles against the girls and he said they only managed to beat you as you had been to distracting. That the tongue you run across your lips in concentration was too much for him and he wasn't interested in playing pool anymore. Chloe and Rachel didn't care, they just liked the fact that they'd won.
You get your phone out, wanting to relive the evening through whatever photos you'd manage to take or sent by Chloe.
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