Painting Paper Hearts | ✔

Chapter 11- A Kiss to Remember

The latter made me cringe.

The darkness that engulfed within the room made it ten times more unnerving. Marcus popped the flashlight app open again and started advancing to where the beds were.

Or rather, a bed.

"I thought there are beds here?" I asked, sarcasm dripping all over my tone. "I only see one."

And by that, this bed could only accommodate one person.

Marcus gritted his teeth. "What the hell? What happened to the other beds?"

"Do I look like I know? I didn't go here."

"The last time I remember, they have about three or four."

My palm met my forehead not a moment too soon. Of course, this was almost abandoned and there was a slight chance that it was functional. "And how long ago was that?"

Marcus paused, probably calculating the gap in his head. "Eight years ago? Nine?"

An exasperated sigh escaped my mouth. "Well, one of us has to sleep on the floor then."

"Yeah, one of us has to endure the cold floor all night."

"Yup! One of us has to... give up the bed for other one of us."

That prompted us into complete silence, looking at each other. It had the same eye contact as me and Erin when we were making a mental conversation.

I noticed him inching slowly but surely towards the bed. His hesitation made me jump onto the bed and claimed it before he did.

But his reaction time was swifter than I expected as his body slammed on the lower half of the bed, claiming it his.

"Hey! I saw the bed first!" I yelled, pushing him but not too forceful. He just burst into a contagious laugh.

Marcus jumped on me, making my body lay flat on the bed as he grasped both of my tiny hands. My eyes rounded in utter bewilderment. His other arm was in the air; his sinister smile was too easy to read as he wriggled his fingers.

"N-no no Marcus don't think ab— ah!" His hands attacked my sides, tickling me. My hair was a mess and my dress could slip up anytime soon. I squealed as he playfully attacked the side of my stomach and his other hand on my neck— the most sensitive part of my body. My whole figure jerked as he continued to give the most atrocious torture.

"The one who falls off the bed will sleep on the floor!" Marcus added.

"Ah! That's not fair!" I tried to push him back with all my might but it was an impossible task. His body was pressed on mine to the point that my breasts were pressing against his chest and I could feel the bulge between his legs.

Instead of feeling weird about being trapped, we just laughed it all off. The anxiety, the awkward silence in between our conversation, and the little teasing here and there.

If we were to nail this fake girlfriend charade, we must reach a level of comfort to each other. I hoped he'd help me lead to that level because it would take two to tango.

I had seen these kind of scenes in movies— the way that the man and the woman stare at each other's eyes with their bodies close to each other, the heat of the moment stirring in the air and their breaths heavy. As if time stopped for the both of them.

It was happening to me. To us.

Our position had rendered us speechless. No words were said, none of us would dare. And I knew it was leaving him hot and bothered as I felt him pressing himself to me a little. My eyes wandered around his face. The way he gaze at my lips and lick his own was just seductive, those passionate eyes that were hiding in the dark never failed to suppress their prowess. They were staring at my very soul.