Of The Darkness (h.s)

thirteen

"How was that Big Bad Harry?" she smirks, my hands holding cheeks as she leans over me.

"Perfect."

Her fingers hold my sides and her lips press to my cheek, my eyes closing. Every minute I spend with her is another that leaves me breathless. She's breathtaking.

"Let's go again."

A nod in confirmation signals as she climbs off me, her soft digits holding mine in an attempt to help elevate me. My legs push up and she lets go of my hands, wrapping her toned arms around my neck.

Her ample lips release light breaths, my eyes focusing in on her soft features. The estranged feeling that she's breaking down my walls swells in my chest; feeling utterly compelled to her in reasons unknown.

But I want her.

"Will you weight lift with me?" I ask, her finger running over the small cut in my eyebrow adorned yesterday morning. My stupid action of crawling through her window in the pitch black had suddenly morphed into an atrocious cut. The window was stuck and it hit me square in the eyebrow.

"Sure," she smiles, my hands running up her sides. She has the softest skin ever felt under my fingers. Her tank is raised off her tan stomach slightly and I nudge her closer. My lips part and every breath she takes is made known on my lower lip.

An effort to restrain myself from kissing her fails for her lips land on mine, neither of us excelling in the field of passionate kisses. We barely kiss with our tongues, yearning for nothing more than a sweet affection I never knew I was missing.

Until Leslie.

When I look at her, all I ever want is to see her smile that tugs me out of the darkness. Every gentle caress she leaves to my body signifies her care and trustworthiness; my fears and hate fading when I'm near her. In the months I've known Leslie, we've opened up but not nearly as much as normal relationships. What we resolve through each other are privileges that we have ensured through safety and understanding. Leslie isn't hurtful or mean; she is the most stubborn yet adoring girl whom I've taking complete fascination in.

Leslie seems as though she knows what she wants and isn't afraid to be in tune with that. Her senses are sharp and every touch she inflicts onto my skin is as if she burns her fingertips into me. Her lips feel as though I'm on cloud nine and they reflect the same emotion as my kiss. Her ears listen to every word I say, even though the beginning of our relationship she only heard what she wanted. Those same ears listen to my broken sentences when I read and she still is flustered when I do so. Leslie's nose brushes mine whenever we kiss or touch foreheads, giving me a soft gesture of presence, trusting her that she's there.

Then her eyes. The beautiful green eyes that I adore. Her green orbs are like emeralds in the morning, looking into mine with complete light and beauty. They look like a forest during the day due to the flecks of brown incorporated throughout the green. When her eyes meet mine, there is never any fear or worry inflicted upon those irises; the only emotion shown is her compassionate care she holds towards me. Leslie's light eyes are the same color mine were the exact moment I was sent away from home. They have yet to convert back.

The hold I have on her is released, my arms wrapping around her body. Pressing my palms on the small of her back, she presses her chest to mine and continues her soft kiss. Liam probably didn't realize how much of a distraction we are to each other.

My hands unwrap around her and I pull away, grabbing the back of my shirt and pulling it over my head. She grabs my waist and starts to trail her lips along my collarbones.

"I want you," she whispers, my hands grabbing hers.

"W-Want me?" I barely register, her fingers touching my stomach.