1.19. Christening

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We fit together like pieces of a puzzle and I crumble in his arms like an autumn leaf. His kiss so soft yet hard and felt. I shiver from the passion in it.

We crumble on the ground in each other's embrace and he pulls me in his lap, having withdrawn from the kiss now only to pepper my face with it. His thumbs come up to brush the tears away from beneath my eyes, all the while as I look at him.

His face is a mixture of pain and agony. As if he had been holding back but not anymore. His eyes are shining and I cannot help but smile at him my own watery smile.

Oh, Clinton.

He grabs for my hands and brings them to his lips, kissing the back of them. His lips firm, stay for a second too long as if savoring it.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry", he looks at the ground, not meeting my eyes.

An unexpected chuckle leaves my lips, relieved.

"It's okay", I murmur again and again as I pull away from his hands and run mine through his hair, gently.

He shakes his head at that.

"No, it's not. I was a jerk to you and I...", he chokes as if holding back a lot more than he wanted to let out.

I shush him this time and pull his head to my chest. He surprisingly accepts the touch and hugs me like his life depends on it.

I don't know how long we stay like that but I don't complain. I just relish in the small bubble that is us.

***

After having gathered our bearings, we decide its better to head home considering it's late.

Clinton insists that I stay at his tonight, so I tell him, not before taking some extra clothes with me to change into from my apartment.

He considers it before nodding in understanding.

So we do just that. He follows me to my apartment in his car while I drive mine.

I go upstairs, pack my stuff in a hurry and leave.

The moment I step outside my building, I catch him leaning on his car, waiting for me.

I reach him just in time as he gathers me in his arms, gently cradling my face in his hands and kissing me.

"I missed you", he murmurs against my lips, softly.

I smile into the kiss and melt into him, just like my heart. Eventually we stop, short of breath. Grinning like silly goons as we rest our foreheads against each other.

"Let's get going", he says.

And I nod enthusiastically before jumping back into the car and off into the night.

***

As soon as we reach his apartment, I go to his room to shower and get changed into my pajamas while he orders us some Chinese.

Few minutes later I find him in his kitchen, pouring wine in two glasses.

I stop by the doorway to study him for a second.

His unruly hair, clear signs of a long working day on his face and his strong structure, holding him up. From the dip of his shoulders to his strong arms.

I can't honestly believe myself that I'm standing wherever I'm.

In his house, in my pajamas about to relax and eat cheap stakeout Chinese that he ordered on my request.

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