Count to 3 and Run with Me

                November 26th. I stood across the room glaring at the calendar, the memory vivid in my head. The memory was a nightmare, the night Eric and I broke up, the night of the fight, the night my heart shattered in a million pieces. A year ago I fell in love and I got my heart broken, a typical story known as old as time.  Every time I think about that night I feel the painful empty ache where my heart should be.

            I once laughed, I once smiled, and I once was a vibrant, bubbly teenager. The perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect grades, at least that’s what I thought, until That Night.

            I giggled as Eric and I watched a new romantic comedy. My legs were crossed on his lap and his arm was around my shoulders. I looked up to see his reaction to the movie, only to find him staring lovingly down at me.

            “I love your smile,” he murmured. My heart was warm and there were butterflies in my stomach. Eric knew what to say to make me feel loved; I always thought it was part of his southern charm. I stretched to kiss his cheek, when he turned and caught my bottom lip in between his. I gasped in shock of his sudden move, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in my mouth. The kiss was needy and wild. What was intended to be an innocent peck on a cheek turned into a passionate, hot mess. By the time the kiss was over legs were entangled with each other and couch cushions and Eric and I were panting.

            “You are a terrible kisser,” His expression was so funny that I laughed so hard I almost fell off the couch.

Eric feigned hurt. “I’m so sorry, but you did continue the kiss for three minutes,” I blushed.

“Shut up,” I playfully shoved him, the movie completely forgotten by now. He turned to me all playfulness gone.

“I love you,” he tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

“I love you too,” I whispered. He kissed me again, this time sweet and soft. I started to get off the couch, detangling our legs.

“Wait, Liz! Where are you going?” his chocolate brown eyes pierced through my ocean blue ones.

“Home?” I said which came out more as a question.

“Stay here tonight, please,” he pleaded; his eyes were like a puppy dog’s eyes. I sighed.

“Sure, but I have to be gone by the time your mom gets home,” A dark shadow crossed his face.

“I don’t care what she says. Stay as long as you want,” I wanted to protest, but I didn’t want to ruin the night. Eric’s mom hated me. There was no legit reason why she hated me, she just did, and in turn Eric hated her. I always felt terrible whenever he brought her up; I was the one who tore a mother-son relationship. The next thing I knew Eric had swooped me up in his arms bridal style and was carrying me up the stairs. I didn’t have to worry about not having clothes; I had an extra suitcase in his closet. I giggled as Eric jumped on his king sized bed with me still in his arms. He kissed me once softly. I started to get up just to be greeted with his arms tightening around me

“Where are you going?” he asked with concern on his face. “Is something wrong?”

I managed a small smile. “I’m just going to take a shower.”

The concern on his face was replaced with his heart stopping smirk. “In that case, mind if I join?”

“Not this time,” I patted his chest and hopped off of him. I turned to check his approval, and saw him nodding thoughtfully. I quickly grabbed my suitcase and skipped to his bathroom. I closed the door behind me softly and padded barefoot across the ice cold tile, set down my suitcase and slid my skinny jeans and tank top off, slipped in the shower and turned the dial halfway between hot and cold, the perfect temperature. Every time I tried to relax Eric’s mom came to mind. I was roughly pulling shampoo in through my hair when I decided to think of that night with Eric and me. When I decided I was fully cleaned I grabbed a towel off of the rack a wrapped it around me. I stepped out, trailed by steam and inhaled the humid air.      

I huffed as I opened the suitcase and dug deep inside under all the fabric until my fingers brushed my lacy navy blue lingerie, Eric’s favorite. I slipped it on feeling a strange comfort in them before reaching behind the door to grab Eric’s robe and securely wrapping it around myself. I stepped in front of the mirror to brush the tangles out of my dirty blonde waves, and then applied a little navy blue eye shadow and a small amount of eyeliner before applying strawberry lip gloss. After a last satisfying glance, I zipped up my suitcase and walked back to Eric’s bedroom, where he lay down on his bed staring at the ceiling.

His head shifted my way when he heard me tripping over my own feet, “Smooth, Liz,” he smirked, before seeing me in his robe then fully grinned in appreciation. “What’s the occasion?”

“Does there have to be an occasion?” I questioned back, playfully glaring at him.

Before I could blink he had me in his embrace, “There never has to be an occasion, love, love me?”

“I love you,” I grinned pecking his lips, and for the second time that night, he turned an innocent peck into something more intense and passionate than I could ever imagine. He picked me up without breaking the kiss and I wrapped my legs around his waist for support.

 And then.....

Hey, i'm a new writer on Wattpad, also really wanting to be an author, sooooo..... I was wondering if you liked the beginning of the story, comment, vote, and whatever else!!!! if you didn't like it, tell me, and help me to become a better writer. but please be nice again i am a new writer. vote, comment, whatever you want! and if you like it I will write more!!!! :) Thanks!!!