{Next chapter: Saturday}
Second of March, 2016
23:49
Lips made contact with mine. They were soft, yet full of dominance. My back was to a wall and two hands above my waist restrained me from movement. I trailed my hand up to his hair and desperately tugged on it, needing air.
He pulled away, looking me up and down, then back down and up again. My jeans were still on, but my shirt was long gone. He too, had no shirt on, but had jeans on. Panting heavily, he placed soft kisses around my lips, but wanted more. His eyes, consumed by lust, and lips slightly bruised, yet still full, looked vulnerable and lonely.
Instead of kissing him, I took this opportunity to attach my lips to his defined collarbone, leaving bruises that would be extremely difficult to cover up in the morning. I left a trail of kisses from his collarbone to the underside of his jaw, going slowly, playing with him.
"D#mn, Cal," he breathed out, wanting to feel my lips on his own, instead of his neck.
His right arm traced its way up to my jaw, painfully slow. My eyes shot open suddenly and I pulled away just before his lips could make contact with mine. My arm was stinging. It felt like is was being torn at with burning razors. The letter "I," "M," and "O," appeared.
"Baby boy, what's wrong?" he whispered into my ear, nibbling on my earlobe.
"I can't."
"Cal, baby," he started.
"No Simon. I can't. I'm sorry."
"Please, Baby, we can do this."
"Simon. I can't. Don't force me."
"You seemed to be enjoying yourself just amount a go," he smirked, speaking just millimetres from my lips.
I turned my head to the side slightly, "That's because I pictured someone else's body. Someone else's mind-set, someone else entirely."
"Really?" he asked, every so lightly pressing his lips against mine, "Who was it?"
"Not you, that's for-"
His lips attached to mine, pressing harder and harder every second. Moving slowly and not wasting anytime.
This was it, I pushed Simon off of me and made my way towards the door.
I can't get him out of my head. His perfect lips, his perfect smile, mine and his body's perfect match. Simon couldn't compare to him. My baby boy was back in Guernsey.
Simon wasn't like him. He was forceful and driven by lust, not love. All he wanted was someone's body. Harry isn't like that. He wants a relationship built on pure love and he wants to takes it slow.
I needed Harry. He seemed perfect for me. Glancing down at my arm, I noticed the words:
I miss you.
Written on it. That had appeared yesterday on my arm. When Simon started to get heated, my arm seemed to burn them onto my skin.
Harry, I'm sorry.
YOU ARE READING
Different Font // WroetoFreezy {AU}
Fanfiction-Number 8 on vikklan- -Number 4 on wroetofreezy- Teachers always tell you not to write on your arm. Ink poison and skin problems can happen because you used a black, ball point pen that had cat stickers all over it. I'm calling bull on that one...
