Can I borrow a kiss?
I promise I'll give it back.
(Pick up line of the century)
November 11th:
Sometimes moments feel so flawless it is as if they are drawn on a canvas, with the precise strokes of a famed artist. The dusk of night is such a perfect hue of dark blue, almost black. The stars, forming an aligned pattern, like freckles of the night. High above the sky. And the moon, the symmetrical round sphere of ivory light that sits above it all.
Mara savors the night, even surmounting up on her rooftop just to watch it. She will try to score each star, learn the patterns which form constellations. Her fingertips, tracing the air between them as if connecting them with an intangible line.
When she was young, the night seemed to be the only thing that remained the same in her life. Of course, her family was steadily moving before her father became a partner at his company, finally settling down in one place. That didn't stop Mara from burning through private schools, similar to her sister burning through her allowance.
Wherever she went in the world, the stars remained the same, evoked the same passion. Everyone is seeing the same stars, the same opalescent moon, the perfect drawing.
Mara's love for the stars extends to wishing on them, though she never believes her fantasies would come true. It is more a game, to look for a shooting star and imitate something in her life could be healed. She doesn't believe in fairytales, or happy endings, or love for that matter. She likes to pretend, in the middle of the night with nobody but the star's attention, she will wish for something better.
However, better never came, and quickly the stars became impotent.
Tonight it is mirk, and Mara has fallen for the darkness. The group is gathered on the beach, all nestled around a fire. It sparks, crackling into the evening, sending embers towards the sand. Its smoke swirls towards the amended stars, shining brighter tonight than ever before.
The waves produce a soft resonance as they crashed against the shore, erasing what is left of the sandcastle they had created. Everyone's chatter around them is flooded out by the static that fills her ears with the pulling tautness of his gaze. Within the orange flames, Elias's eyes met hers, not breaking their contact.
"I'm smart," Will's booming voice breaks their trance, dragging their attention towards where he huffs. He is standing feet away from the fire, a half-empty beer in one of his hands, the other flailing around. Ryn is belittling him on how he managed to get into Berkeley, of all schools. Will, is, to say the least, not the brightest.
He is a legacy, though, and improved his grades enough to get in.
"Sure, what does sphallolalia mean?" Elias chuckles in all his literature glory. He decided he wants to go into journalism, his mind operating as a dictionary. Leaning back in the cold sand, with no sun to warm its grains, his weight on his elbows. His legs are stretched out in front of him, the fire's heat making his skin flushed.
"Flirtatious talk that leads nowhere," Will smirks, crossing his arms over his chest in a proud stance. Everyone laughs at him, a chiming sound that choruses through the open exposure. It dulls, but the smile that falls on Mara's lips remains, even after Elias' eyes dart towards her, beaming.
"Of course you know that," Ryn rolls her eyes, snorting as she brings the alcohol to her lips. She is a little tipsy, slurring her words, though her spark never leaves, "it's the story of your life."
Mara catches Elias's thundering eyes, who stands up, stalking towards her. Standing in front of her now, he extends his hand out towards her sitting position. Silently asking her to accompany him. She accepts his hand offering, letting him pull her up to a standing position, draping an arm over her shoulder.
Ryn and Will are still deep in brawl, and Cairo's attention is fastened towards the water. He is enjoying himself, you can tell by the slight smile that falls on his lips, one of his hands on Ryn's ankles. Cairo is reserved, having gone through a lot as a young child, his mother passing away when he was just six. His quietness works well in his relationship, as Cathryn is one to never stop talking; their dynamics fit.
Most of what you need to know about Cairo is written on his skin in ink. He had tattoos covering his shoulder and most of his back, all quotes and names that have created who he is now. His mother's name, and brother, are sprinkled around. An image of roses draped over a casket on the nape of his neck, the only easily visible tattoo.
Nobody notices as Elias and Mara slip away, his arm falling from her shoulders to interlace their fingers, tracing her skin. It is like tying shoelaces, and after a while, your hands move without solicitude. Perfectly knotting the strings together as if not to fall apart, their palms molding together.
With her other hand, Mara wraps her thin sweater tighter around her frame, protecting herself from the hurricane of air coming off the water. The tide is calm, the expanse empty of any ships and souls. They continue to walk the expanse, the voices of their friends dwindling away in the wind until their alone. Only the light of the fire to lead them back.
They continue to wander along the shore, their feet sinking deep into the saturated sand. The tide, tearing at their exposed ankles as they left their shoes back at the campfire, rolling their pants up to their knees. The moon, a mere flake in the sky, letting the stars dance alone for the night, they just submit to this patience.
"I wanted to say you look beautiful tonight," Elias utters after they'd stopped walking, just watching the waves wash away their tracks. They are phantoms of the night, a lost soul to the water's current.
Elias makes it a point to tell Mara she is beautiful every chance he gets. He can see how she looks at herself sometimes, how he looks at himself sometimes. Like his skin isn't his own, as if Elias wants to be someone else. But they only get one body, one life, so he makes it a point to prove just how much he appreciates hers.
"Thank you," she susurrates, gazing out at the water. She can't look at Elias, all of her solicitudes pooling in her eyes. It will be obvious how much she craves him, and that fact scares her, the vulnerability. The power that one person has over her.
Only one other person had that amount influence over her.
"What's on your mind?" Elias turns to her, and she looks at him. He will see its passion engraved in her features. She can only hope the shadow of the night will obscure just how much she feels for him, that little piece prevailing her own.
"Do you want to swim?" She asks, glancing at the ocean water. It is murky with the night, nothing below them visible. The waves look so calming, so tranquil. She wants to feel them rippling on her skin, the calmness of feeling featherlight, like emptiness.
"What are you on? It's freezing," Elias chuckles at her, his voice cutting off as Mara strips out of her shirt and shorts. Leaving her exposed in only her underwear, the scars on her arms, and burns on her shoulders wholly apparent. She exposes those parts of herself, the entanglements because they make up her narrative.
Liam will always have an impact on her, but he made her stronger, inside and out. She will never run back to him again, as she has previously. He isn't her lighthouse, the finder of her assassination. He is her, chaos or a piece of it, and she understands that now. Figuring it out in the hospital with the help of Khalil. Elias is not Liam and he will never be Liam. She had to get rejected by him to get over him, to get over that piece of herself.
And now that she has, she wants her life back, all her moments wasted on what she considered respect at the time.
Elias just watches as she wades out into the water, stripping into just his boxers. He follows her out into the depths, the unknowing. His hands, finding her waist under in the murky liquid, his feet on the sandy bottom, scattered with algae. She is treading, unable to stand, bobbing up and down with the waves.
"Use me," Elias says, pulling her closer. Goosebumps prod her skin where his hands find her thighs, hooking her limbs around his torso. His hands stroke up and down her skin under the water, sensual motions that make her draw closer to him, no space left between them.
Their eyes and noses grazing above the water, their lips covered in the salty ocean. Thoroughly alone in this turmoil of desire and forbidden lust, bearing the frigid water that encompasses them. Elias's heart beats wildly against his chest, her head tilting back, staring at the stars above, exposing her neck to his touch.
Losing his resolve his lips trace the hollow of her neck as she sucks in a heavy breath, a light brush of lips on skin that sends sparks through their bodies. His hands, grazing over every inch of exposed skin he can find underwater, at a taunting pace that has her attracting closer to him. She's not cold anymore in the frigid sea, not with the warmth that encases her. Tilting her head back farther, his lips fall to her collarbone, peppering kisses along its sharpness.
She is his addiction, tasting of sugar and the ocean water, her lips are his heroine. It is euphoric, her hands wrapping around the back of his neck, her fingers twining into his thick hair, dark with the water that weighs it down. They are featherlight, dancing on tiptoes.
"Can I kiss you?" he removes his lips from her neck, to which she nods, speechless. Crashing their mouths together, he pulls her bottom lip in his own, flicking his tongue along the slit between her lips. Devouring her mouth as it's been too long since he's had a taste, a hit, she arches into him. Their heartbeats, matching pace against their chest.
Exposing herself, she doesn't think, just needing him. His lips trailing from her mouth to the patch just below her ear, nipping the tender skin. She cries as he kisses away the sting, finding her mouth again in lust. Their tongues, dancing in their mouth with an experienced savoring.
Their breathing is ragged as they heave, pulling apart enough to meet each other's gaze. Their pupils dilate, her lips bruised with the roughness, the patch of her skin marked. His eyes, equally as chaotic as her own, are hidden beneath the blindness of midnight.
"I've been waiting forever just to do that," his inhalation is worn, whispering against her soft lips, bruised dark pink. He kisses away his words, pulling back enough to smile at her.
"What took you so long."
---
Authors Note:
Took them long enough amirte
Thoughts?
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- ❤ Nia
Edited 4/11/22