Don't Leave Me

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"Dance with me."

Three words that meant a universe opening for both of them.

At the sound of this sultry invitation, Millie could simply shove him away, leave behind this human temptation that is manipulating her reason and heart.

But the truth is that she can't say no to him.

Millie is not capable to deny herself what she desires the most, to put out the fire that burns inside of her. And so, for once, she lets her voiceless feelings speak for her: her whole body swings in his arms, following his soothing rhythm and the notes of the music.

They move together, bodies attached like two magnets. There is friction, need, unsaid words in that slow and offbeat dance. Millie's lips exhale a satisfied breath as his face is buried in her shoulder and his hands wrap her close to him. Her stomach is a vortex of undefined desires, impure thoughts and so, desperately, full of him.

She is so addicted, that her traitor hand almost reaches for his cheek, as if she wanted to prove to herself that this is really happening. That this is not the outcome of her imagination.

But as if someone woke him up from his vivid fantasies, Finn immediately blocks her wrist.

"No." He implores her, voice so close to her ear she can hear every shade of it. "Please, no."

"Why—Why are you doing this?" Her gaze is lost in the void as he waves her sensually from behind, pressing her body even more against his.

Despite the shivers of pleasure running down her spine and the fact that the all of himself is stamped against her, Millie's doubts are still there, and they seem to not go away.

His fingers splays even more on her stomach, his hold getting more possessive. "Stop asking me questions."

She spins around, positioning herself in front of him as he keeps her laced to him.

"So should I stay here and let you do your thing, while I have no room to talk?" She looks at him, eyes filled with uncertainty.

And, perhaps, with anger too.

He looks down at her, eyes icier than a lake in winter, unlacing himself from her. The spell didn't last enough.

"You always know how to ruin fucking things." He hisses, stepping out the dance floor fast and leading to the outside.

"What?" Millie follows him, trying her best to not stumble on her heels, and finding him on the back of the club, hand pressed on his forehead.

The basses of the music muffle in the background, and now all that they can hear is the imperative sound of her angry stomps getting close to him.

This time, she won't hold it back.

"Can I even know what is wrong with you tonight?!"

"Nothing." He turns her back to her, eyes sharp. "Nothing is fucking wrong with me!"

"Yeah, right," She can barely contain her sarcasm. "You are acting so freaking weird, and I want to know why!"

He slaps his hands on his sides, irritated as ever before.

"Again with your stupid cross-examination!"

"Well, it is only fair if I ask you what the hell are your intentions with me!"

"I don't owe you any explanation." He has the audacity to say that with his stupid inscrutable face she can't decode.

"This is how you're wrong! You owe me answers! And if you don't do it, I'll keep you here all night until you spill them!"

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