Paint Me, Professor | Student-Professor Erotic Novel | 18+ | ✔️

75 - Heartbroken

Christopher
***

I woke up to silence and stillness. I lay awake without moving a muscle for quite some time, feeling Ali's regular breathing against my chest. It was easier to stay like this: frozen, unmoving, quiet. If I didn't move then I could pretend I was still asleep, and if I was still asleep I didn't need to face reality.

After a while I felt the pattern of Alison's breathing change. Her body tensed up ever so slightly, becoming smaller.

"Ali?" I called, my voice heavy from sleep. We had probably slept for a total of four hours.

Ali rotated her head, burying her face in her pillow. She clearly turned away from me, and that rejection made my heart contract painfully. I pushed those thoughts away. What I felt didn't matter, all I cared about was that she was okay.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" I asked softly.

She didn't answer. It was so hard to understand what she was going through that I was tempted to ask her why she was acting like this, but I refrained from doing so. Independently of what she told me last night about me being the person she needs, I triggered her reaction, I made her cry incessantly, I made her relive her trauma. Of course she didn't want me.

I waited for a reply that never came. Her silence broke my heart. I didn't know what to do. I deserved to be pushed away, I deserved to feel the rejection, but I also knew she needed me and I needed her.

Tentatively, I kissed her cheek softly, my lips barely touching her skin. My arms slowly tightened around her body, wanting to comfort her the best way I could. She remained very still, not reacting to my affection.

The pang of regret was inescapable. I kissed her and kissed her, begging her through my touch to reassure me. It was selfish after what I'd done to her, but I desperately wanted to know that I could console her.

"Ali, I'm here for you, please..." I whispered between kisses to the skin on the back of her ear. Even though I was holding her, it felt like I was losing her like sand falling through my fingertips.

At last she gave in and turned around to face me. When I saw her face for the first time that morning I realized why she hadn't turned around: she didn't want me to see her cry.

I cradled her head under my chin, my legs wrapping around hers. I'd do anything to take her pain away, to erase her memories, but all I could do was hold her.

I lulled her back to sleep by whispering sweet nothings, kissing her face, and caressing her skin. We had slept so little that I knew she'd feel worse if she didn't get the sleep she needed. I could feel the dampness of her face against my bare chest, but she was silent as she cried. If I thought feeling rejected was bad, seeing her never ending sadness destroyed me.

"Stay with me," was the last thing she said before falling back into unconsciousness, her face drying up. My heart thumped at her request, revealing that she was conflicted in pushing me away and wanting me.

This situation was so fucked up that I couldn't blame her for her incongruent actions.

I held her until I too fell back asleep. I woke up a few hours later in the same position I fell asleep in. Ali was still sleeping and the last thing I wanted was to wake her. I played with her hair, twirling the ends between my fingertips.

Suddenly, her body shifted and she stretched her arms out of my embrace. "What time is it?" she asked in a small voice.

I turned to my bedside table and checked my wrist watch.

"It's two," I stated, turning back to face Ali, placing my arm around her like before.

"Oh no..." She said, opening her eyes. "It's so late, we need to have lunch."