Pastel Dreams || editing

twelve - airplanes and red ribbon

Today was her first day back.

Lucca frowned, twirling his pen at the end of his fingers. He couldn't find the word he was looking for. Despite waking up at three in the morning to write, his inspiration had run out, it seemed. So Lucca was sipping his in silence when Camellia emerged, clad in a black turtleneck, black skinny jeans and a coat of the same color. Behind her trailed a white suitcase.

"Where are you going?" He asked, surprised.

"It hasn't been confirmed, but I might fly to Thailand for two days, " she answered, glancing at her phone.

"But weren't you back from-"

"London? Yeah, but that was three weeks ago. Pastel Dreams is opening a new resort in Koh Samui, one of the islands. But it's monsoon season, which means a hot and humid climate. I still have to go, though. My father couldn't attend."

"You travel quite a bit overseas," he remarked.

"I was actually supposed to go to Dubai on Friday but I cancelled after the gala. Anyway, see you on Sunday," she waved before making her way out.

"Are you going to be okay?" He called.

She stopped in her tracks and glanced over her shoulder.

"The court date is set after Christmas, and the PR department has already issued a thing I guess. It should be alright, really."

He stared at her for slightly too long, before catching himself and giving her a thumbs up.

"Good luck."

But she couldn't leave his mind. Nor for the rest of the day, until a text eased his mind - temporarily.

He only sighed before picking up the phone and heading to his closet.

Was he really going to fly halfway across the world because of....writer's block?

Hours later, he was settling in his comfortable private suite, and swallowing pills. One hour down, 20 hours to go.

....

"What are you doing here?" Camellia gasped, amazement and surprise painted across her features. 

He knew he looked utterly shattered and yet... he was here.

Had he been right to?

Lucca only glanced to his right before mouthing 'sorry.' Grabbing her face urgently, he pressed his lips onto hers unceremoniously. She gasped in surprise, and he deepened the kiss, hastily.

Edith had been in the corridor, about to come and talk to him, and right now, the only thing on his mind was not to awaken suspicion.

Yet was gentle as he kissed her, desperately trying to convey his confused feelings that held apologies and...fright. She tasted like peppermint toothpaste, and she moaned slowly into his mouth, her knees close to giving out. Her hands made their way to his hair, and she tugged, releasing an unexpected moan of pleasure from him. Abruptly, they pulled away, both breathing heavily, cheeks aflame.

"I missed you," he answered audibly, before closing the door with his foot, still holding her close.

Quickly, he grabbed her hand and ushered her away from the door.

"Sorry about that," he whispered, " Edith was in the corridor and I didn't want her to be suspicious about me being here."

"Why are you here?" She demanded, still catching her breath. Despite the yellow lace peeking through her white bathrobe, and her flustered appearance, she still stood her ground.