ANTONY & CLEOPATRA → ALFIE SOLOMONS

angry kisses

Hard, gripping. Fists in clothes, shoving each other against walls. Fingers digging into hips. But the kisses always melt away from that. They turn into brushes of lips between shaking breaths, until they're out of energy and are left just standing there, holding each other, fingers carding through hair.

"Alfie, you're being stupid."

"Stupid?"

You let out a heavy exhale, eyes falling shut with irritation and exhaustion as you tugged your earrings from your ears, placing them back in the delicate velvet box on your vanity. Alfie was standing behind you, leaning on his cane as he watched you get ready for bed.

"Yes, Alfie," you said, hands reaching behind you to unzip your dress. "Stupid. As in, not intelligent. That's how you're behaving. Stupid."

In the mirror, you watched Alfie gape at you. You rose a brow. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Stupid." You could recognize the anger in his tone, and you looked back at him, not apologetic in the least. "Your deranged fucking brothers are bringing me into Russian business, and I'm the stupid one?"

Your dress fell from your body, and you stepped out of it, picking it up from the ground and hanging it back up.

"That's not the point of this conversation, and you know it," you said crossly, brows furrowed in the middle as you rummaged through Alfie's drawers to produce an undershirt for you to sleep in. "Tommy could have found somebody else, I reckon. Easily. Face it, you were just being an over-protective, jealous fool."

Alfie let out a frustrated sigh. "I know Russian men," he stated, shrugging out of his coat. "And that man was looking at you like you were a freshly skinned piece of meat, ready for the taking."

"But I'm not!" You exclaimed finally, throwing your hands up in the air. "I'm not for the taking, and you know that better than anyone."

Annoyed, you tugged Alfie's shirt over your head before making your way to your bed, stopping in your tracks as he uttered a question that made your blood boil.

"Do I?"

You whirled on him, eyes narrowed as you approached him carefully. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Alfie stayed defiantly quiet as he looked down at you, who was a whole head shorter. You scoffed, hands pressing to his middle and shoving him away. Granted, he didn't budge, but the attempt felt good.

"Why won't you just admit it?" You seethed, and Alfie lifted a brow. "You're fucking jealous."

"Jealous?" Alfie questioned, the tips of his ears tinging pink. "I am not fucking jealous."

"Stop being such a fucking—!"

Before you could finish your sentence, Alfie's hands closed around the tops of your arms, leading you backwards until your back hit the vanity, bottles rattling and glasses clinking from the disruption.

You looked up at Alfie with wide eyes, heat unfurling in the pit of your belly, sheer excitement encapsulating every part of you. Your hands smoothed over his abdomen, fingers tucking into the waistband of his pants and bringing him in closer until each and every part of you was pressed against him.

"If I hear the word 'idiot', 'stupid' or any other variation of the fucking word," Alfie said quietly, his face centimetres away from yours. "I will be sleeping in my fucking office tonight."

You didn't put much thought into your actions as you stood up on the tips of your toes, hands running up Alfie's chest as you leaned up to kiss him, teeth capturing his bottom lip and biting down lightly. He didn't respond right away, still hellbent on his petty justice, but then you pressed closer to him than he even thought was possible and all principle went out the window.

"You fucking angel," Alfie murmured against your lips, one hand on the back of your neck, the other on your hip, fingers digging into the fleshy parts of your behind. "Don't know how I got so fucking lucky."

"So admit it," you gasped against Alfie's mouth as his hand squeezed your bottom. "Admit that you're jealous."

Alfie grunted, fingers sliding into your hair, tongue tracing the fullness of your bottom lip, knee pressing between your legs. Your hands gripped his biceps, nails digging into his shirtsleeves.

"Maybe a little," Alfie admitted finally, nipping at your lips as he pulled away, foreheads touching together. "But for good reason, that is. There are better men to be with than old ones with anger issues."

You shook your head, laughing a little. "Alfie, my love, we have a child together," you whispered, kissing his lips again. "I love you. All the parts of you. I would have you no other way, and you know that."

Alfie stayed quiet, and you nudged him lightly, leaning up to kiss his cheeks. He shut his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh.

"I know," he said quietly, thumb rubbing against your jaw. "I know. But you could do much better, you know that?"

You rolled your eyes. "How many times do I have to say this, Alfie? The only man I want is you. The only man I'll ever want is you. There's no need to be jealous."

Alfie, who was staying adamantly quiet, put his face into your neck, arms wrapping around you sweetly as he hummed. You fought off a giggle as your arms went around his neck, your lips dropping to his hair. How the two of you had managed to go from shouting to kissing to snuggling against a wall was beyond you; but it was nice.

"I'm sorry for calling you stupid," you whispered, and Alfie lifted his head, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes. "You're not stupid. You're one of the smartest people I know, Alfie."

Alfie nodded thoughtfully, squeezing you a little tighter around the hips. "That's sweet, love, it is, really," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again before scooping you up in his arms. "Let me show you just how smart I am."

This time, you laughed as your back hit the mattress, legs splitting to wrap around his middle as he leaned into you.

"That didn't make any sense, Alfie."