❝Used to look at me
and tell me don't stress love,
that's why I need you
whenever I'm stressed, love ❞
𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 he wants his old thing back, but the burdens of their past relationship keep her from pursuing anything further.
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T H E N E X T D A Y . . .
The master bedroom of Quentin's high-rise apartment was dim. The light from the night sky being the sole source of brightness for the area.
The room was also quiet. The only noises came from Manhattan streets as a mixture of muzzled music and taxis drove by.
Zayley and Quentin laid together in his California king bed. The thick duvet covered their naked bodies while previously worn clothes were scattered around the wooden floors.
As expected, Zayley woke up earlier that day to many gifts being sent to her front door. Along with the peace offerings was an envelope with a lengthy apology letter written by none other than Quentin.
The envelope also contained a plane ticket to New York from San Francisco, boarding within the next few hours.
So here she was, not even twenty-four later, head laying on her boyfriend's chest as her thumb ran circles over his lower abdomen while he stared up at the ceiling in deep thought.
"What's on your mind?" Zayley murmured due to the side of her face being pressed against his bare chest.
"How you literally pounced on me the moment we saw each other at the airport." He chuckles lowly, sending vibrations down her body.
"That's because I missed you."
"Did you really? Or were you just in the mood to fuck?" He questioned, glancing down at her.
"Both. You know they say that makeup sex helps release underlying emotions between partners."
A satisfied expression plastered his face before lifting Zayley's chin to kiss her lips. "I love you. And I missed your nerdy ass too."
Zayley giggled at the compliment, "I love you more."
Quentin planted kisses all over her face and neck while snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her body on top of his.
"Don't start something you can't finish Q," Zayley mumbled as a soft moan escaped her lips.
Quentin stopped his actions scrunching up his face and giving her a stern look, "You know I always finish what I start Z. Don't play with me."
"Boy anyways," Zayley playfully rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's antics.
"I'm free tomorrow. I figured we could hit the mall and then stop by that Italian restaurant you've wanted to try." Quentin suggested leaving wet kissing on her exposed shoulder.
"Maybe, it depends." She shrugged, replying rather blandly.
"Depends on what?" He questions, taken back at the response.
