Touch of Stranger

The Savour

Her back hit the door hard as the taller man ushered her inside. His arms kept her in place. His other hand moved to lock the door.

Celine glanced at Descamps, who was also looking down at her. Their eyes had mixed feelings. A small smile rose from her face. She took a deep breath. Locking her gaze, he suddenly leaned down to kiss her.

The air crackled with anticipation, and in that suspended moment, the world seemed to fade away. His lips, warm and tender, met hers in a slow dance of longing.

A shiver ran down her spine, and time itself seemed to pause as they savored the sweet taste of shared desire.

In an impulsive move, he cupped her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. She felt the heat radiating from his body, and his hands, strong and possessive, pulled her closer. A soft moan escaped her lips, swallowed by the urgency of their connection.

His fingers tangled in her hair, and she responded with a boldness of her own, exploring the contours of his back with hungry hands.

Descamps broke the kiss for just a moment as he felt like she was about to faint before he quickly bent down to savor the sweetness again, violently with desire. His heart burned with every touch she touched him. The arm supporting the door hugged her waist, pulling her body close to him, but Celine turned around and pushed him against the wall of the door instead, as they continued to kiss passionately without stopping to catch their breath. They devoured each other in moments when everything was quiet and they were lost in emotion.

Because Descamps' back was pressed against the door, Celine's hand shifted to his neck. A tingling sensation spread throughout the body. He crushed his lips more and more violently, according to the emotional strength gained from her touch.

The hand that was holding her waist moved to caress her body. The content of the short story he read today popped into his head.

'...They embraced with the warmth that came from the heat in their hearts..'

Descamps moved his hand a little higher until Celine moaned, exposing her lips for him to taste even more of the sweetness.

'...Even though they were inexperienced, their body flows according to their feelings. The two of them just wanted to quell the turmoil in their hearts...'

Descamps flinched slightly when her hand slipped past his collar, touching his skin and caressing it. His arousal was so high that he responded with a throaty moan of pleasure.

Celine smiled as she heard it before slowly pulling away from the kiss, looking into his eyes with a mix of surprise and tenderness in his gaze, a vulnerability that mirrored her own.

His hand gently cupped her cheek, and they remained suspended in a moment. A soft smile played on his lips, and her heart fluttered with a newfound warmth.

"Joseph?"

A voice called out from the other side of the door along with the sound of the doorbell.

Descamps's eyes widened in shock. He looked at Celine who still had a calm expression on her face, but before he could ask anything, he had to put a hand up to cover his mouth to keep from making a sound because Celine stood close to him, hot breath flowing down his neck. She was on tiptoe peering over his shoulder into the doorway to see the visitors ahead.

"It's your mama," Celine said in a whisper to his ear.

"I know," Descamps replied, his hand still covering his mouth.

"Should I hide?" Celine asked playfully, pulling away from his shoulder. Descamps stared at her incredulously. "I will climb out the window,"

Before he could argue, Descamps saw her walk away. The cool air replaced her warmth that had touched him just a few minutes ago. The sound of the doorbell is still ringing. He turned around, twisted the key and the doorknob.

"Why did you put the key in the keyhole?" His mother cried out, but her voice didn't sound angry. She reached out and cupped his face lovingly. She held up the newspaper to her son. "They said we had new anonymous writer in town,"

Descamps gasped, he knew exactly what his mother was talking about, but he tried to keep a calm expression. "Do you know who wrote it?"

"Oh, I don't," she replied, walking into the house immediately. "but Maria said she saw someone secretly go to the printer in the early hours of the morning. Why is the window in the study room opened?"

Descamps followed his mother and looked into the study room, where the window was actually open. He immediately walked into the room and slowly closed the window.

"Well, what's written in the newspaper? The pen name" Descamps continued the conversation, staring at his table, where a paper had been tearing off.

His mother walked back to answer. She shook her head. "They haven't revealed it yet, but my dear, I wonder what kind of man is writing this kind of story,"

"Why do you think a man wrote it?" Descamps asked but his attention was towards the tearing paper.

"Because a girl is not allowed to do such thing, Descamps,"

With that, his mother left him alone in the room. Descamps grabbed a torn piece of paper and looked at his handwriting.

All that was left on the paper was a small sentence: '..where an unwritten message is shown..'

But Descamp knew that the person who had climbed out of the window had torn up the rest of the note he had written. The phrase 'The shield of her calmness can't hide a mess of chaos inside her eyes...'

'..where an unwritten message is shown..'