life's rain // bruno mars

chapter sixteen

chapter sixteen

Lena's head rested against my chest. Her fingers made undecipherable shapes along my stomach. The soft trails caused my breathing to show, my eyes to close. A few moments earlier, she told me that the guy and her ex, Ray, are still in jail. The thing I hated was that she blamed herself for her brother's death. She thought that if she had her phone the night he died, he would still be here. Or if she tried a little harder to direct him on the right path.

I tried comforting her. “Lena, you did all that you could.”

“I could have done more.”

I didn't know how to respond to that.

We spent about two hours there and decided to head back when ants started eating at our skin. Before disappering through the trees, Lena held her camera up to her eyes. Instantly, her whole body became still. The snap of the picture seemed to echo.

We went back through the trees, pass the lonely road, and through the trees again, where my Honda was waiting for us.

The stars had disappeared by the time we made it to her building. It was nearly six in the morning and the light was beginning to emerge in the sky, but it was still pretty dark. I cut the engine, leaning back. “This was nice.”

“It was, wasn't it?” She yawned, rubbing her eyes. She turned to me then, reaching out her arms. I stretched across the gear shift and wrapped my arms around her. She smelled like the woods. She buried her face into the crook of my neck. “I'll miss you.”

“We can see each other tomorrow, hang out.” I withdrew a couple inches. Her eyes were soft, and her tiny smile sad. I licked my lips, did something I've wanted to for a long time. I leaned in and kissed her. She kissed me back. It was like the first time. The soft pressure of her lips inviting the gentle touch of her tongue. Though the taste of liquor was not there, this was ten times better, with just our own tastes. She pulled away first, breathing slightly hard. The back of her neck was warm as I placed my hand on it, running my fingers across her skin. Everything about her was soft and gentle.

“Come on,” she said quietly, stepping out the car. I followed, already wanting more of her. At her door, I cupped her face, kissing her with more vigor. We walked backwards until her back hit the wall and her fingers tangled in my hair. I kissed her neck, nibbling on the skin. She moaned a little, breathed out my name. Goddamn, that sound. “Lena,” I whispered, letting my lips graze her ear. “Stay with me, at my place.”

Her voice was soft. “I can't.”

I kissed her again. “Why not?”

She slowly slipped her fingers from my hair and removed my hand from her cheek. We were staring at each other the whole time. She leaned forward, her lips soft, barely there. My eyes had closed. I slowly opened them and rested my forehead against hers. “I would like to be with you.”

This seemed to break her. She started crying. A silent one. The ones you do right before you go to sleep at night. She quickly wiped them away.  “What's wrong, L?”

She sighed, tiredly. “It's too late.”

“What's too late?” My thumb ran across her bottom lip. “I'm too late?”

She didn't respond, looking pained. Placing her hands on my chest, she pushed me lightly, making me step backward. She pulled her key out of her hoodie and inserted it into the lock. I reached out. “Wait. Just, wait. Can't we talk for awhile?” I mentally cursed myself. Fuck. We'd just spent six hours with each other.