A Rhapsody Of Sorts

19- Cross Your Bleeding Heart

October 14, 2012.

His name was Elijah.

I didn't find this out until we'd already fallen into bed at his hotel, my shirt thrown halfway across the room and my bra quickly following it. He'd breathed it into my mouth as I worked on his belt buckle, splaying his hands across my hips and pulling me close, but I'd been so caught up in the brush of his eyelashes against my cheeks that I didn't even care enough to remember my own name, let alone to learn his.

He'd moved too slowly, kissed me too deeply, and every careful touch of his hands on my back or over my chest had felt like he was trying too hard to treat me like I was made of glass instead of flesh. When he'd trailed his lips over my Hummingbird — murmuring about how avant-garde it was — I'd been thrown off by how much more intimate the warmth of Harry's hand had felt on my ribs than the gentle drag of Elijah's teeth did. I'd squirmed beneath him until he let me roll him onto his back, but we were out of synch from the moment he let me into his hotel room until I left him still panting on his bed, swiping my lips over his and wiping the sweat from my brow as I redressed. He was spent as he watched me, and the lazy smile on his face had vanished almost as soon as he realized I wasn't going to climb back into bed with him for another go.

"You're...leaving?" he'd sighed, pushing his fingers through his damp hair. "Just like that?"

I'd pulled my shirt on over my head before I turned to him with widened eyes, temporarily rooted to my place beside the crystal vase filled with wildflowers. "Uh, yeah?"

I'd scratched the back of my neck and eyed the red snapdragons in the bouquet.

"Oh," he'd said, dropping his hands to the bed and pursing his lips in confusion, "all right."

I'd breathed out a wispy sigh of relief as soon as I closed the door behind me, and then I'd walked the few blocks over to our hotel with nothing to remember him by but the pinkish love bite he'd left in the divot between my breasts and a strange guilt-induced ache sitting between my eyes. Perhaps we'd both have been better off if I hadn't approached his table at the pub in the first place.

Now, it was three in the morning, Mae still hadn't returned, and I couldn't make myself fall asleep no matter how hard I tried. I was so tired the day before that I hadn't noticed how scratchy the bed sheets were or the annoying click-clack that was coming from the heating vent, but now they were driving me up the wall. Not to mention that I'd forgotten to pack shampoo so I had to use the one that the hotel provided, and the sandalwood scent of it was overwhelming my nostrils. I could hardly take a breath without scrunching my nose up in revulsion.

I was ready to switch on the light and pick up on where I left off with Atonement when I heard the sound of the keycard being inserted into the door, which was promptly thrown open, and a sluggish figure trudged over the threshold. Expecting to see Mae, I was surprised to find Liam standing beside the kitchenette, dangerously close to knocking a coffee mug off the counter, when I switched on the bedside lamp.

"Oi, what're you doing?" I asked.

He was drunk. Not staggeringly so, as he had been after his birthday party, but his veins were thrumming with something strong. He sent me a stupid, sloppy smile before he stumbled over to throw himself down on my bed. His tie was undone and his suit jacket was haphazardly thrown over his shoulder.

"Nothing," he sighed, dropping his chin in one hand as he fluttered his eyelashes. The box of condoms clutched in his other hand hadn't escaped my notice. "Just...just wanted to say hi to you...you lovely, considerate, kind friend of mine."

I flickered my gaze from his flushed cheeks to the box in his grasp, finally meeting his shifty eyes with a snarl.

"Liam," I grunted, unimpressed, "are you kicking me out of the hotel room you forced me to stay in to begin with?"