The way home was more of a glitch, as I was deeply sunken in my thoughts. All of my surroundings becoming one blur, not interesting enough to be recognised by me. Music was playing, yet I didn't understand a single word.
I was here and also far away. Far away where I shouldn't be.
I got lost. And I hated it. No, I despised it.
I never got lost, it wasn't in me. I was the one who always had a plan, always knew what I had to do. I always knew where I had to go. It was one of my traits many people I met throughout my life admired me for.
Now this time, I got lost in my thoughts. It all derailed that day in the library when we met on the small staircase. All this time before, I had it in control. Like I always did. I always had everything in control. But I had to make a move, or I could've never experienced the situations we had shared the last two, almost three months. My life would've been boring, an endless circle.
Normally I loved being alone, it was less stressful.
Not anymore. This time, I got lost in it. This time, it was bad. Even though it was bad, I saw it as a reward for all my hard work, for the past years of struggle.
Someone out there appreciated what I did, saw how I longed for someone to challenge me. To distract me from my sometimes harsh view on myself and others. And damn, I was definitely challenged. I was thrown back one day only to be pulled into a warm embrace the next. I was challenged as to how much I could show of me without giving myself away.
This morning was just another proof of that theory, another sweet gift. This whole liaison was a sweet gift to me, how could I say no? The touch and looks we shared, the teasing words, hot as the moans and groans, as the sweat running down our backs, as the orgasms we shared. What I felt was natural, not forced or purely sexual. At the beginning I thought it would, declaring it as a relationship based on lust and need. Doing something I never did in that matter. It turned out to be so much more. It fulfilled me in a way I would never admit to anyone. I would never admit it, I thought again, after I reached my destination, wondering how I got here so fast.
Especially not to her.
She could never know what she accomplished in such a short time, it might only complicate things.
And I didn't need complications.
I walked up the stairs to my house, already bothered by the fact she wasn't trailing behind me, completely captivated by the surroundings, the plants and trees. Nobody was as enthusiastic about my home as she was.
I bet if you would post a picture of it on pinterest, it would be all over the internet in hours.
Who says that? There was not one person I think would react like she did.
She was unaltered, no filters, no role she tried to play. She treated me the same since day one, even after I approached her. With her in my thoughts and in my rooms, in my car and in my office, I didn't feel rushed or pressured to be the one she wanted.
Sure, I tried everything to be the most real and best version of me to her anyone would ever get to see, but she made no demands.
I put my keys inside the bowl next to the door, pulling my shoes off my feet.
At first, I feared she would be too much for a simple man like I was. A man in my position, in my circumstances. And she was and still is.
She was talking, teasing, laughing, explaining, shouting, joking, the full program. She never stopped. Plus she never stopped looking at me with her beautiful eyes, luring me in, calling me and making me think about things I normally didn't had time for.
Her eyes were the first thing that forced me to get to know her more. She could be at the end of a lecture hall and still, I would always try to catch her gaze, dying to know what she was thinking about. Her mind was so complex, so different than others. She wasn't a normal student studying science, she had other views and beliefs, connected topics one never thought could be connected. It never got boring listening to her. Her words clouded my judgement and voice of reason. One small moan or hum from her, and I dedicated everything to her.
Pouring myself a glass of water, I remembered her words from last week.
Yes sir, please.
Don't be jealous of him when all I thought about last week was you.
They played again and again like a broken cassette, mixed with her tiny gasps and squeals.
Her body was equally breathtaking as her mind and character. The way she moved let me imagine she only did it for me. Didn't she realise how many eyes followed her when she walked by?
With her, it all came naturally.
I set the glass aside, grabbing a pear out of the fruit basket I bought after she visited me for the first time.
Looking at the fruit, I turned it around in my palm, being reminded of her once again when I took a bite, a sweet taste filling my mouth.
She tasted almost as sweet as the pear and I regretted that I didn't try more. Her warm body under me, legs twitching from the pleasure I allowed her to feel, her clenching around my fingers.
Until this day, it was hard to believe she never had a man do the things I did to her.
To be honest, I had a few women come and go, women I shared short periods of time with. In contrast to her, I had experience and so did the women. Nevertheless, it excited me that I would be her first though, taking a thing that didn't really exist, that was a social-construct.
It turned me on and reminded me of the boner in my pants. How, when I didn't really care how much my partners knew about what they were doing?
I want it Niall, I really really want it. I want you to fuck me and I want you to be the first one doing it.
Damn it, I needed to shower.
I threw the residues of the pear away, licking my fingers clean as I did not long ago.
After taking off my clothes in the upstairs bathroom, I turned on the dark-tiled shower, stepping under the cold water to solve the problem without having to act out on it.
The streams rinsed my body, raised my heart rate and my breath. I did nothing, only letting the water run freely. How would it feel like to shower with her, roaming my hands over her skin, grabbing the flesh, swallowing her pleading words with my lips? Touching every single inch? Oh and how it would feel like, her small fingers cleaning me, massaging my muscles, first my shoulders, then my chest and stomach. I knew she would be thorough, only focused on that task, not realising my growing need for her. How my blood would be pumping down to my manhood, as she would look at it, surprise written all over her pretty face, reaching for it.
It was too much for me.
I changed the temperature of the water, closing my eyes as I grabbed my aching length, knowing I had to end this the way I swear I wouldn't do while she was away. I slid my hand up and down, calling a picture in my mind where she was the one doing it.
God was it hot.
I knew it was fucked up, but what was I supposed to do after she had wrapped around my consciousness by moaning my name, showing me she was ready to give to me in order to receive? I wanted her to be mine, by all means.
She had to belong to me and she almost did, there wasn't much left and I would be imprinted on her body, as well as her mind. My only task was to find her breaking point.
Over the years I lost my faith in god and religions but I remembered that angels could be corrupted, it was what the bible told us. And so could my angel. Who would fit better to rip her off her clarity than me?
No, I didn't want her to cleanse me or turn me into someone better. She had that potential inside of her, that spark in her eyes I wanted to use to form her into another version of myself. I had plans laid out for her and only her.
My hand's movements got faster as I began panting. The pictures of her in my mind were clear like reality.
Don't hold back. I can handle it.
It was what she said to me after our first kiss.
These words were her doom and she had no clue. I had her consent, her permission.
Of course my angel was strong and though, focused on her goals. She could deal with a lot more, she actually didn't need a man at all. But behind her facade, I saw the vulnerable girl she really was. She needed someone she can give control and power over her, someone that was able to lead her and follow her at the same time.
And the way she melted in my grip, relaxed and held onto me, I was sure she wanted it to be me. An offer I gladly accepted. Because she deserved everything in the world. Not the good things, but the best. No wishes should be unfulfilled, everything she wanted to have, it should be hers.
And I would give it to her.
I would make the woman out of her she always wanted to be, yet I believed she already was on the right path, playing with me, driving me close to my ends.
Her innocence and self-consciousness, which I saw definitely no reason for, combined with her wit and her art to seduce me were deathly, it took me all my strength to do it slowly and not undress her everytime I touched her. I was only human and a man after all, what meant that even my strengths came to an end. And this end was now, as I moaned, sensing my orgasm approaching.
„Ugh, what are you doing to me angel?"
Of course she didn't hear me, sitting in a train miles away, probably getting some sleep.
Her soft features, her slightly parted mouth. A mouth that quietly whispered my name as she came around my fingers.
And this thought did it for me.
Release shot through my body and I had to hit my fist against the tiles, cursing loudly and freely, moaning her name over and over again. It intertwined with my endorphins, drawing a connection to it that could never be cut.
Hot spurts of cum covered my fist and the tiles, only to be washed away shortly after.
Such a waste.
It would've looked better on her tongue, before she would've swallowed it, the substance making its way down her esophagus.
I continued pumping through the aftershocks of my orgasm and the thought of her swallowing my semen. Of course it wasn't the first time that I pleasured myself while thinking of her, it almost became a new obsession of me. I had probably spit out her name during a peak way before she even knew I was at least a bit interested in her.
Not long and she would be all mine, she would finally belong to me.
I turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and drying myself with a big towel. Next to me was the fogged up mirror and I looked back at me in the reflection, my wet hair and my swollen lips, as I had bit them during my orgasm.
She would finally belong to me, and I would belong to her.
*
That night and the following days I thought a lot about my angel.
I wasn't entirely missing her, it was more of being reminded of her absence and the following questions about her whereabouts and well-being. Maybe if I wasn't alone in my house for such a long time, her name wouldn't have been repeating inside my head.
I sat in my office two days after her departure, marking a few essays from a lower semester, scribbling notes next to the fairly stupid and plain texts. They lacked of depth and another form of understanding, the students only doing what was asked of them. It was boring and made me angrier with every page I read.
This wasn't what I signed up for when I began working as a lecturer. I wanted to make geographers out of these people, work with their already existing abilities and knowledge, not beginning at the bottom.
Did they even know what they were learning?
She did it so much better, her work at least catchend my attention and interest. Her skills of juggling words, creating sentences that were proof of passion and intellect, it was rare at this age and in this field.
I was sure with my support, her final was going to be amazing. Better than all of the essays in front of me combined.
If she worked hard enough of course.
Putting away my red pen some time later, I grabbed my coffee mug after I looked at the clock on my computer. The content of the mug was cold and disgusting, I had to scrunch my nose at the bitter taste flooding my tastebuds.
I've been sitting for over four hours, doing nothing. Nothing that was worth my time.
If only she could be here.
She would sit next to me in this office, reading something or maybe spending time in an armchair downstairs and munching on cookies, drawing in her sketchbook. We didn't need to talk, only knowing the other one wasn't far away and within reach. Instead my house was filled with complete silence, no life inside it but me, pinching the bridge of my nose.
Whatever I did, I wasn't able to shut her out and I had no explanation why.
I even considered texting her, turning on my phone. No, I didn't want to text her. I didn't want to know about her life at home, about what she did, what she thought about and if it was me.
She was a grown women and I wasn't her dog.
On the other side, why don't dwell in the thoughts?
With her on my mind I always saw things not so stressful and straining. She was a relaxant in my veins and I decided to let it do its work, stretching and walking downstairs with my mug straight into the kitchen to empty the coffee into the sink, deciding to make myself a cup of tea. She loved tea. The few times she came over, she drank more than one cup. Her consume of tea was huge, so I saw myself forced to expand my collection, allowing her to taste all of them. Somehow, she preferred black tea, holding the mug in her grip to let it warm her body while watching me or the garden outside.
What did she saw in that sad example of a garden?
Did she drew pictures in her mind? Did she had plans for it?
She hadn't told me yet.
My gaze wandered to the sofa next to the window as I sat down on the opposite one, inspecting the little Christmas tree I put up last weekend and simply decorated with lights. I wasn't emotionless after all, I enjoyed the holidays. This calm, sleepy town, the grey skies and dry and cold air. I had to get her painting and drawing utensils so she wouldn't be bored when she stayed here I reminded myself.
Maybe today if I could find a store.
Actually, we silently agreed not to exchange gifts. She didn't brought it up and I wasn't that person to need a special holiday to lavish her with presents.
Maybe I should wrap up the drawing utensils for her and place them under the tree, it did look lost in place to be honest. The idea settled in my head after I finished my tea, standing up while letting the last drop enter my mouth. Walking back into the kitchen, I stopped at the big window, seeing the cat waiting patiently in front of it. Did he even like his owners?
I was slowly running out of ham and he refused to eat anything else since she had fed it to him.
I normally never gave him a treat and due to her mistake, I now had a cat in my house, refusing to leave the spot near the fridge until he got what he wanted.
After coming inside and rubbing his head against my leg shortly, I patted the cat's head.
"I'll be back soon. Don't throw my fruit off the table again." I warned him, not looking back.
'And don't bother searching for her, she's not here.'
I added in my mind, taking the keys und my coat off the rack before going out.
*
I found time to think about her again the day after Christmas, sitting at the kitchen table early in the morning, clueless about what to do with the things I bought. I didn't know why she would need every brush but I had entrusted the shop assistant to get everything one might need for painting and drawing.
Enjoying the silence after almost two days with my divorced parents, celebrating two Christmas dinner, I still needed her voice to fill my ears.
She just texted me a Merry Christmas with many emojis, wishing me 'great days' with my family, as she put it.
No 'I miss you', no 'Excited to see you', no 'what are you doing', no 'thinking about you'.
Not what I answered either, but she was she and I was... not. My fingers traced the rough watercolour paper, recalling the moment where it all begann.
When I began working at the university last year, she first got lost in the crowd, You could easily look over her, because she never said anything in lectures.
But after warming up, when you thought she hadn't much to say, she opened her mouth and questioned everyone, discussing topics with insistence, answering every question with well thought sentences.
I noticed her, but that was it. It took me many months before I decided I wanted her.
Nine to be precise, not many weeks before this semester started.
Summer had just ended and we were in the middle of the first week with not so high temperatures, the bearable weather forcing me to leave my house and take a walk outside.
The way she looked like was stored in my memory and I smiled to myself, sitting at the table. At the same time in my mind, I was walking, searching for her, back in August.
I had walked for two hours, ended up in a park not far away from campus. Many people enjoyed the day, taking their dogs and children with them.
And that was when I saw her. She was vaguely familiar to me but I had no idea who she was.
She was walking towards me, but not looking at the people around her. She seemed lost in her thoughts, looking up at the roof of leaves and branches of the trees over us. How could she not look straight ahead? I slowed down, sensing she was going to bump into someone or stumble over her own feet, yet she never did. No, a smile spread on her face instead, a genuine sign of happiness when she lowered her gaze, as if she saw everything for the first time, taking in her surroundings.
Her steps were light, carefree even.
At this moment, I remembered her. My mouth opened to greet her shortly, a sound already leaving my throat, but I didn't get that far as to finish the word.
She moved to a bench three feet in front of me, sitting down on it and instantly rummaging in her bag.
Not hiding my surprise, I kept walking, waiting for her to look up, recognise and getting on my nerves like all students. Nothing.
I had no idea what coerced me to sit down on a bench diagonally on the other side of where she sat. Something was odd to me.
I already behaved like a creep. I have never watched people I barely knew, let alone a student I only talked to a few times. But when we talked, she was polite and considerate, like she tried to understand me. A bit stubborn and a tad blunt, however better than most of my students. How could I not recognise her at first?
Luckily, I had my phone with me, holding it in my hand and looking at the dark display from time to time, not to raise any suspicions.
Nobody paid attention to me. She on the other hand, she was nearly stared at by every person that came by. Probably because of her long blue flower dress, the skirt moving with the wind and the notebook on her lap.
Was she writing?
I was not sure, the pen in her hand moved too quickly and uncoordinated. She was looking up too often to be writing. And I realised, she was drawing. Drawing. In a Park. All alone. In a dress like this.
Wouldn't that be an activity she should be doing with her boyfriend? The thought of that pinched something inside me.
It confused me so much much that I felt uncomfortable sitting in this park, watching her, that I stood up abruptly, hastend out of the park and out of her sight, banning the thoughts from my head.
They came back whatsoever, worse than before. It had lasted until that evening, as I sat on my bed, ready to go to sleep, starring out of the window into the dark blue, almost black sky.
That evening, I wondered what had me that caught up about her. Maybe it was the unbothered look on her face, the way she detached herself from the world to observe it and be a part of it at the same time. Maybe it was how happy and freed of worries she seemed.
I wanted that too, to let go of everything. I needed to know her secret.
And here I was, holding a present for her in my hands, not one step closer to her secret of being that carefree person. Nevertheless, I was many steps closer to her.
She was heavenly. Her lips, her skin, her voice.
It was hard for me to close my eyes since that day in the park without thinking about her. Because in my mind, she was always sitting on that godforsaken bench, drawing. I was the one next to her and she was glancing at me and smiled, too shy to show me her sketch.
She deserved everything, she deserved to be treated like the angel she was.
And I was going to make it happen.
_________________________________________________________________
Uhm...
I....
This chapter was the ONLY reason that kept me happy these last few weeks.
Idk, I've always wanted to write a chapter in Niall's POV, without making it too obvious. And I'm in love with his thoughts about the main character (even though I gave him these thoughts?).
I hope you like it as much as I do and I promise I won't keep you waiting as long for the next chapter xxx.