Invisible String - Sebastian Sallow

Chapter Forty-Three: Flawed and Free

"I want to show you something," he said again, quietly.

"Well, we shouldn't be in the dark," I said, moving for my wand again.

"Don't grab your wand," he spoke clearly, though I detected strain in his voice.

"Seb, what did you want to show me?" I asked, slightly confused.

"I didn't want to show  you anything, truthfully. That's not the right word. It's more- I just-" He gulped, took a shaky breath and continued a little shakily. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," I answered, no hesitation in my voice. It was the truth. I trusted him more than I trusted anyone in the world. There was no one else in the world that I trusted more than Sebastian Sallow.

"Close your eyes," he prompted.

I giggled, "Seb, it's already dark in here. I can't even see you."

"Trust me," his voice said again, a little raspier.

I did as he asked, closing my eyes and I gestured into the darkness. "Alright, they're closed."

In answer, I heard his footsteps, followed by the sound of his robe being thrown onto a surface. If I had to guess based off of where the sound came from, it would have been Slytherin's desk. I could feel his presence growing closer, but still he did not touch me. I shifted slightly, turning my head to search for him though I still didn't open my eyes.

I jumped slightly as fingers touched my shoulder. He was behind me, his breath ghosting just beside my exposed neck. He didn't say anything, and neither did I. I waited as he moved slowly, like he was nervous. His finger found the clasp of my own robes and gently he disconnected the clasp, slipping them off of me. I shrugged out of it, helping him, as I waited to feel his breath against my neck again.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," he said, voice far away. I frowned at the distance. Two footsteps sounded and brought him closer as he spoke again. "I keep thinking about the other night."

His breath fanned over my neck again, making me shiver.

"Have you been thinking about me?"

"Yes," I breathed, still searching for him.

The scent of cinnamon swallowed me as he stepped up to my back, pressing his body against mine. His fingers trailed up my arms, tracing delicate shapes across my skin, an act that instantly had me focused in on him. His breath was still shaking, his fingers dancing nervously but determined, his lips at the top of my head from where he towered over me. I could feel every curve of him, his strong hands settled against my hips as his fingers stopped their slow dance. 

Gingerly, he leaned down and brushed his lips against the scar along my throat, starting as barely a whisper of a kiss. So light, that if I had been able to see anything, I might have missed the sensation all together. I breathed in sharply at the contact, relishing how his lips, even with barely touching me, seemed to light a fire across my skin.

"Sebastian," I breathed, his lips trailing along my neck tantalizingly slow. His trail moved from the top to the bottom of the scar, tender and nervous.

"What is it, love?" He smirked, pressing his lips below my ear, more pressure than before, but still hardly there.

"I want you to kiss me," I said, though I rolled my head to the side lightly, granting him even better access to my throat.

His lips pressed more firmly to my throat as a small chuckle escaped his lips.

"Patience, Abbi," he whispered, before his hands found my arms and pulled me roughly against his body. I gasped as I felt my body slam into his, his lips moving along my throat with a new wave of excitement.