It's probably not a good idea to say: "Do you want to go to a hotel?"
That was me.
I was the one who said that.
Then, he had to reply with: "Sure. Do you know any around here?"
Youthful ignorant me responded with: "There's a nice one near here."
It wasn't unexpected when he said: "You've been there before?"
I couldn't help but smile in an almost teasing manner. "Why? Jealous?"
"You haven't." I don't know how he does it, but he always manages to catch me in the act.
That's the terrifying part of Marcelo. He's good at analyzing others - much too good.
And that makes me think, maybe I'm already caught without knowing it.
Marcelo grabbed my hand and supported me out of the limo. His large coat hangs over my shoulders. My coat wasn't enough to keep in the warmth.
The limo driver rolls down his window, "You're in high school," he says. "It's better to get your guardian's consent before doing anything reckless."
It's easy to see it. The driver is a hunter.
I gave him a tight grin, "Don't worry," I said. I lean downward, "We're only having sex."
I'm pretty sure that wasn't the response he expected after giving us thoughtful advice.
The driver shook his head, "Youngsters. I don't even know why I try. They never listen." He rolled up the window and drove away.
I turned my heels and made my way towards the hotel. One step. Two steps. Up the stairs and into the glass door. When I didn't hear any footsteps, I stopped at the last step. Marcelo was still at the bottom of the stairs.
The wind caresses his hair, but there weren't any emotions on his face. There wasn't any happiness or regret. The more I look at Marcelo, somehow, the more handsome he becomes. Initially, I thought he was already good-looking, but now for some unknown reason, I can't look away from him.
The soulmate bond shouldn't have affected me.
Many people who are mated to werewolves had said they felt this spark when they first met them.
Humans who aren't mated also claim the same thing.
This spark.
For me, this so-called spark is a physical attraction. Perhaps, that's the reason why werewolves are so much more appealing to the eyes than an average human. They're sculpted that way to attract their mates.
To create that spark.
But, eventually, the spark will wear off.
And what do you have left?
What's behind the physical appearance?
Maybe, that's it.
Him.
I kind of like him.
His sarcastic humor.
His fake persona.
His immature smirks.
His know-it-all attitude.
Just a bit.
I like him only a little bit.
I'm pretty sure he feels the same way about me.
"Are you coming?" I ask. "Or are you afraid?"
I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have pushed him.
I know what's going inside his mind.
All the possibilities of what can occur.
Maybe, I can control my wolf, but what if I can't?
What will my pack do without an alpha?
What if I hurt her?
What if I can't fully accept her into my life?
What will dad do all by himself?
Any other person would go in without a thought, but Marcelo won't. Because that's who he is. He's the type who thinks beyond what's in front of him.
When did it all start?
I wonder.
This complex side of him.
Is it possible that it was there all along?
Or perhaps he was trained into this position.
Possibly when his mom passed.
How was he that day?
How old was he?
Did he cry?
Is he like me?
When he cries, does he hide under his blanket and pray it covers all the sounds.
The more I wonder, the more I want to know.
Oh, no.
This is not good.
I'm sinking.
Marcelo took a step.
Deep.
Another step.
Deeper.
One step after another, he made his way towards me until his body was in front of me. Somehow, our breathing matched one another. The heavy warm white air made its way into the darkness.
We had an understanding.
Whatever happens tonight doesn't change our status.
It was a mutual verbal agreement.
Because we both understand our current position.
I can't be his luna.
I can't be the strong person beside him that he needs.
And him?
He can't be who I want the love of my life to be.
Someone insignificant like me.
Someone who doesn't matter in the textbooks.
Another number.
And it's as simple as that.
Marcelo Vozenilek is someone who will matter in the textbook. They will write about him - discuss his accomplishments. I could see it already.
What he did to change the world.
For better?
For worse?
I don't know.
But, someone like him will make history.
And inside the warm dark room, I could feel the intensity of his stares. Nothing can distract him from this moment.
I slip the jacket off my shoulders.
Marcelo's eyes followed the clothing until it made its way back towards me.
He follows my hand as it moves toward the string tied around my neck. With a single pull, the dress slips off of my body. Marcelo didn't look up from the dress on the floor.
One step after another, I made my way towards him until we were barely an inch apart.
His eyes refuse to meet mine.
I watch as his fingers curl inward in a desperate attempt for control.
My hand moves from his temples toward his high cheekbones and finally underneath his chin. Steadily, I move his sight until it meets mine. Without another word, I lower myself until our lips meet.
Somehow, it tasted bittersweet.
Marcelo flips me over, and my body falls on the bed. I watched as he moved downward until he was between my thighs. My feet found their way up the bed, allowing his full access. His fingers slip into my thong, and slowly, he moves it upward until one of my legs straightens.
The underwear falls on the carpet.
That night, we found ourselves wrapped up in each other's arms.
Our lips refuse to detach.
Our sweaty chests firmly rub against one another.
The only part of our body that shortly separates would be our wettest part.
I know I shouldn't do this - particularly not without protection.
I know better.
But, by the time we thought of condoms, it was too late.
The oven is boiling.
How stupid.
But, to my expectation - Marcelo has exceeded my expectations.
When the sun hit my eyes, I woke up with Marcelo on the other side of the bed. When I tried to get up, a painful sensation hit my waist. They weren't wrong when they called werewolves monsters.
Monsters in bed.
I ran my hand across my body to feel dry substances all over it.
I groan lightly before I smack Marcelo's back.
He let out a light grumpy noise before he threw the blanket over his head.
I inhale a sharp breath before I limp my way towards the bathroom. I would love to go back to sleep, but the disgusting feeling of after-sex won't allow me. On my way to the bathroom, I grab Marcelo's large white shirt.
When I entered the bathroom, I forgave Marcelo for his aggressiveness last night. The bathroom was magnificent with its large shower - even have a place to sit - and wide bathtub. The tub was so large; it could be seen as a jacuzzi.
I turn on the faucet and allow the hot water to run into the jacuzzi-like bathtub. "Sweet." I had chosen the right hotel. Unable to wait for the tub to fill up, I turned on the shower and took a quick rinse. By the time I was out, the bathtub was nearly full.
The bathroom was filled with steam, which smoothly relaxed my body. Steadily, I lowered myself into the hot warm, and a moan of satisfaction left my throat.
"I'm starting to think that my performance last night didn't impress you."
When I opened my eyes, I could see a naked male in front of me.
"Mind if I join?"
"Not enough room," I said.
He chuckled before he got in across from me. I turn my head to see the frost outside of the window. I watched as the ice crystals grew for a while. My brain emptied, and I felt wholly content. "I should've asked this earlier."
"What?"
"Do you have any disease I should know about?"
He glances at me, "Do you have any disease I should know about?"
"Is this your way of saying: Yes?"
Marcelo exhales, "No. No disease."
"That you're aware of."
"I'm starting to feel like you want me to have some sort of disease."
"You can get tested."
He waves a hand at me, "Whatever I got. You got it already. Learn to live with it." With Marcelo's personality, I doubt he would lay in bed without protection.
Unless I don't know him as well as I thought I do.
"I'm impressed," I said.
"Because of the bathroom or my performance?"
I look at him and smile, "The bathroom."
Marcelo chuckles, "Boost to the ego."
"Wealth is always sexy."
"Is this a habit of yours?"
"Bathing?"
"Gold digging."
"If I am a gold digger, I wouldn't be washing dishes for scrap money."
"Maybe, you haven't found the right man to dig."
"Introduce me to your dad," I said. "It's obvious. This is all daddy's money."
Marcelo moves his jawline slightly, "I didn't know you were that type."
"I'm not afraid to go to Alabama," I sang. I look at him and grin, "Go on. You may call me mama."
Marcelo rolls his eyes, "There's a limit to your humor."
I spread my legs underneath the warm water, "Doesn't matter as long as I'm humored."
Marcelo got up from his seat and moved towards me. He stops between my legs, not close enough where our bodies touch, but fairly close where I could feel his heat.
"Unavailable," I said. My legs ache like hell from last night. There's no way I'll let him have morning sex.
Marcelo pouts slightly before he sways his body beside me. His muscular arms rest on the edge of the bathtub. He lay his head down and closed his eyes.
"Hey," I said.
"What?"
"What happened to your glasses?"
"Ah. I don't need them. They're fake."
I rolled my eyes, "Obviously. I mean, why didn't you wear them last night?"
"They broke."
I turn around and lay my chin against the edge, "Well, good thing they don't have sentimental values."
"It's the last thing my mother left me."
Spoke too soon.
Marcelo looks at me and smiles. Somehow, it looks extra sweet today, "Jokes."
"Dry jokes," I said.
He turns towards me, "Really? I would think you like my dry sense of humor."
"You think wrong."
Marcelo went back to his original position, "You're going to regret it."
"Not liking your dry sense of humor?"
"Yeah." He closes his eyes again, "You're going to miss it."
I didn't respond to what Marcelo said. Instead, I look out the window again. Unlike earlier, the frost from outside didn't calm me. There's this intensity inside of me, this feeling of...sadness.
Marcelo and I came to a quiet understanding.
Our lives and ideals are simply too different to merge.
It's apparent what has to be sacrificed for us to be together.
And neither of us is willing to back down.
Neither of us wants the other to retreat.
So, a few months from now, it will all end.