Stop Playing Innocent // COMPLETED

26 // Waistband

We stay like that, so peacefully, for a good entire minute, before I slowly start to unwrap my arms from around him, but he clings onto me tighter like a magnet.

"One more minute", he mumbles into my neck. So I hold onto him some more.

Another minute goes by and I speak up, "Aren't I an amazing girlfriend already, hugging her boyfriend whenever he's tired or asks for it?"

He laughs, pulling away from the embrace to loosely hold his hands around my waist and looks up at me.

"You are", he kisses my cheek and then lower on my jaw.

"Thank god, because I was-"

"-so far."

"Hey", I pout, "Where's the 'Hi, I'm Damon, and I've never once said anything negative about my dear friend Jo' - guy I'm used to?"

He 'dramatically' looks away.
"He's gone. This is the real me, babe."

I nod.
"Just as I predicted - men are bipolar assholes."

And we laugh together again.

Sadly, his hold leaves me and so does the comfort of his touch, when he turns away and glances around the dim-lit room.

"Alright, I'm not as badly exhausted as I was before and you are hopefully proud with your hugging skills", he tells me, "You can show me the rest of your songs now if you want."

"Oh, sure", I try to say without the realization that I'm still on his lap, "But you still seem a little uncomfortable with something."

"I'm fine, just fine."

"Really?"

"Yep."

Doesn't seem like a 'yep' to me.
Did he get, like, a boner or something?
From me sitting right stop of his- oh.

Patiently waiting for his reaction, I slowly maneuver my hands to his stomach and tap my fingers along his warm skin in hopes of him being ticklish. But he isn't, damn it.

"You aren't ticklish?", I wonder.

"Nope. Sorry?"

"Eh", I wave it off like its no big deal and look down at his abs of steel that I've only ever seen in real life at beaches, "I'm not surprised since there's this iron man shield covering your stomach like photoshop."

"Or maybe just hardcore flexing?", he suggests with a grin.

"Mm. Maybe. But you are pretty fucking fit for a guy of your age."

"Thanks. That's one of the only reasons I bother working out, which is for someone like you to tell me that", he explains with a shrug, "The other being that I can eat ice cream anytime I want now."

Smiling, I first glance up to see him looking back at me with that hazel stare and back at his body in front of me, as there is quite literally nowhere else to look.

Nervously thinking over my actions, I take the innocent opportunity to ever so delicately run the tips of my cold fingers along his torso, watching the imaginary trail I make along his body while his hands stay unbearably still on his both sides on the bed.
          We both stay silent, no words needed.
But it's so silent, the only sound that can be heard are mine and his breathing patterns, changed to being heavier and I find it almost harder to breath.
          Lower and lower, my hands slowly reach down his body to the few inches above the waistband of his pants, where a faint V-formation line crosses over from the sides of his stomach and dips into his lowest point, that is, thank god, covered.