Blinded by Limerence

43 | Tomato Red

Morgan

Hearing the bombshell Archer had very intentionally dropped, my legs seemed to go numb, along with every system of my body, and the entire world stopped.

I dropped the pile of clothes I had gathered.

"Archer, I'll never get any work done," I whined as I bent down to pick up the clothes again.

He bent down as well so that we were now face-to-face. "Did you hear me?" he asked with furrowed eyebrows.

Abruptly standing up, I grabbed all the clothes, creating a mess of a conglomerate of different pieces of clothing, and defeatedly shoved them all into my cabinet. After I shut the cabinet doors, I sighed. 

"I did," I replied, turning around and leaning on the wooden surface. "Why did you guys break up?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "We, um, didn't see eye to eye on something."

"I see," I said softly, reluctantly pushing away the desire to ask further. "I'm sorry."

He nodded, a tight-lipped smile—if you could even call it that—on his face. "So," he said, "Netflix?"

"Oh, yeah!" Thankful for the not-so-natural segue, I quickly grabbed my laptop from the desk and sat down on my bed with my legs crossed.

Archer followed my lead, sinking down into the comforter next to me. He leaned his back against the headboard, and impulsively, I positioned the laptop on his lap and leaned back until my head rested on his chest.

It didn't take much investigative skills to figure out that he was taken aback by the action, his body growing stiff at the contact—but he soon calmed down.

My heart filled with uncertainty and doubt—what else is new?—I glanced up at him with worried eyes. "Is this okay?" I asked, my voice just barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," he replied, mirroring my decibel, as he wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders, "it is."

I could feel his heartrate pick up, and I didn't have to look at him to know that his cheeks were flaring red—but I couldn't be one to talk because I'm almost sure that my cheeks weren't safe either—heck, they may be even redder that his. 

He cleared his throat. "So, what're we watching?"

"What about 'Friends' reruns?" I suggested with a bright smile.

"Whatever you want," he laughed.

"Have you ever watched 'Friends'?"

He shrugged. "Well, I've been meaning to," he answered.

I clicked my tongue and shook my head in disapproval. "You're in for one heck of a ride," I said to him with a cheeky grin. Without hesitation, I pressed play on the pilot episode, and the iconic theme song began to sound throughout the walls of my room.

|

He stood behind the door.

I knew this because there was a big window on the door, and his black shadow looming large, I could vividly make out his handsome features on the other side—his rain-soaked hair falling over his tired gray eyes—but make no mistake, for the dull color of the atmosphere failed to hide his longing, his rosy lips seeming to ask for something wild, something exciting.

Suddenly, my hands seemed to move by themselves—they undid the numerous locks on the door that kept him away. I wasn't thinking with my head but with my heart.

Then, as my heart pounded almost painfully against my chest in anticipation, I opened the door to be met almost immediately by his wet yet warm lips. The rain fell mercilessly on us two, pounding against our bodies and soaking every bit of our clothing, but too lost in the moment, we couldn't care less.

As he enveloped my lips in a passionate kiss, all I could think about was how good he tasted, how his arms were protectively wrapped around my waist, and how they moved to entangle themselves in my disheveled hair.

It was like a scene from a movie, and it was the background music's cue to play. You know the type—the kind of music that'd accompany scenes of when the girl finally gets the guy—and nothing else mattered. We faded away into each other's embrace and became one—one heart, one soul.

...

"Morgan?" prompted Archer in a whisper as he poked my cheek with his finger, jerking me awake.

It was a dream? 

I couldn't help but feel a tad disappointed. After all, it's been a while since I had one—one about Archer, no less.

"Did you just fall asleep on me now?" the hazel-haired boy chuckled, feigning offense, as I sleepily sat up in bed.

I rubbed my eyes—tried to rub the sleep and delusion out of them. I actually just imagined me and Archer in place of Ross and Rachel from 'Friends'—not only that, but Ross and Rachel from that one iconic scene where they shared their first kiss at Central Perk.

"I'm such a dork," I muttered, slapping a hand to my forehead in a facepalm.

"What was that?" asked Archer.

"Nothing," I said hastily before smiling up at him.

That's when I realized my face was darkening in a furious blush, embarrassed over the dream I had. That wasn't even the worst part—flustered about the way Archer looked at me so intently, I felt the butterflies in my stomach take flight, and I mentally cursed at their return.

Dammit, they're back.

Archer gave me a warm smile. "Alright."

All of a sudden, completely catching me off guard, Archer pulled me back into the position we were in before I woke up, and then he wearily placed my laptop on the bedside table. He pulled the covers over our bodies and reaching across to get to the light switch, switched off the lights—darkness loomed over us, save for the laptop screen illuminating both our faces.

In the dark of the night, in his embrace, I knew my cheeks were burning up. I could probably serve as the other light source with how red my face was glowing; I was as red as a tomato, and as hard as it was to control the intense blushing, it was even harder to calm my racing heart.

Go away, feelings, I snapped at myself. Now isn't the time.

"Goodnight, Darhk," whispered Archer as he planted a soft kiss on my forehead.

As if it was even humanly possible for me to grow even redder and more flustered, I did—that's the effect of Archer Hastings. In bed. With me. In his arms.

Fuck.

I'm still in love with him.