Chapter Twelve
Sleepless
THE NEXT FEW NIGHTS WE SPENT mostly hiking while I listened to more of Matthew's past. Somehow it was relaxing to hear him tell me so many stories. Matthew told me about how he spent over a several years in Scotland back in the mid-1700 and yes, he wore a kilt, and no, he did not wear anything underneath. Surprisingly, we laughed a lot during our hikes, even though the tension still heavily hung around us. Matthew didn't bring up any more feelings or speeches of the future, to my great relief. But it was obvious he was still bothered by our last talk about it because he didn't do anything but hold my hand during our walks. At least, for a few nights.
Although the walks were relaxing and I didn't feel at all in danger or worried about some pressing matter, I still had nightmares.
Ever since I was little I've had some sort of nightmare just about every single night. Most of them deal with being chased or attacked, though the past few years they have become more detailed. Back when I was with David I used to have nightmares of waking up to find blood everywhere and someone I didn't know standing over me. After David's death my dreams have somehow always involved finding his body somewhere; whether I was swimming at a lake and his hand grabs my leg or I trip over his body while running from a group of vampires trying to kill me. Vampires are definitely the most common element in my dream, and I'm always somehow incapable of fighting every time I face them. I've learned to live with the nightmares, even though they take away a great deal of sleep from me; I guess they've simply become a part of my life now.
It was a nightmare that woke up me again, only this nightmare left me with sweat dewed on my forehead and my heart racing. My thoughts were wild and nonsensical as I tried to calm myself in hopes of getting back to sleep. My hands were trembling, as usual, and I kept feeling as if I needed to run. The things I've done, the things I've seen, they all catch up to me in my sleep.
I wiped my forehead off with the back of my hand. Just close your eyes and rest, I thought as I tried to shake off this feeling someone was still watching me. That's when I realized it wasn't just a feeling.
I was being watched.
My eyes met Matthew's slowly, startled by him being awake. My mouth, still dry from sleeping with it open, managed to form words somehow. "Did I wake you? I sometimes move a lot in my sleep," I croaked, rolling onto my side to face him.
He was also on his side, watching me expressionlessly. "Yes, but not because you stirred."
"Huh?"
Matthew seemed to really be focusing on my face like he was trying to see my thoughts. "I feel them. I feel your panic and fear every time you sleep."
This was complete news to me. Were my dreams so intense? "How long?"
He seemed almost hesitant to answer. "...Ever since the spell. They wake me up if we're asleep at the same time."
He has felt my nightmares since then? This completely blew my mind. Matthew seemed grave about it, as if this was something serious. "I've always had them," I muttered.
Matthew looked down, almost shamefully. "They've gotten worse. At least in the past few months. I feel them." It was a statement, not a question.
I sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Yeah."
It became silent, both of us not saying a single word. I wasn't sure what I could say. I've always been so used to waking up because of nightmares, it's practically a part of me. But Matthew seemed almost bothered by this, like he was also unable to return to sleep. Usually I'd go running to wear myself out and outrun the nightmares, but I couldn't. Matthew told me the other night I shouldn't run by myself because I don't know the area well enough. Although it was true, I still held a grudge.
I sat up and began to push the covers off of me. "I'm going to go read or something," I explained when he also began to sit up.
"Come here," he softly commanded with an arm reached towards me.
My eyes focused on his hand as if it were about to attack me. "What? Why?"
Matthew pulled the covers back, gesturing for me to come to him. "I think I know how to help with the nightmares."
Whether it was the lack-of-sleep or my wandering mind, I completely misunderstood what he was wanting. I gaped at him, not moving an inch. "What? No.'
He frowned, shaking his head slowly. "Come here, Anna. Stop being stubborn."
I slid off the bed and backed up a step or two. "No! You told me you'd be patient and honorary or such. You shouldn't go back on your word."
His expression went blank. "You think I'm asking for that? Sweetheart, I'm just asking you to lay beside me."
Boy, did I feel like an idiot. Yet, even though I was wrong, I still was hesitant to lay beside him. I had no idea what he was doing or had planned. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at him through narrowed lids. "What do you plan to do?"
He was clearly getting frustrated with my constant interrogations. Matthew rubbed his eyes with his hand and looked at me as softly and kindly as he could. "If you lay here, I'll show you. It may stop the nightmares."
Again, I observed him with suspicion. "Are you going to do something supernatural? I don't want bite marks."
Matthew threw his right hand in the air. "I swear, I plan to do nothing of the sort. Now please come here."
I still hesitated. "The nightmares aren't really that bad, Matthew-"
Matthew reached across the bed and captured my hand in his. "Please come here? I'd hate to drag you."
I let out a loud huff and slowly crawled back into bed with Matthew's hand still pulling me towards him. I thought all he wanted was for me to just lay back down where I had been, but I was yet again wrong. Matthew continued pulling me closer and closer until my back was pressed against his bare chest. I lost all urge to sleep then as I laid there with wide-open eyes and tense muscles. Matthew had one arm underneath my head and one wrapped firmly around my body. I could feel every cool breath he took against my neck and ear. I could even feel his legs pressed against my calves.
We were quiet for a while, the only sound being my heavy breathing and his occasional exhale against my ear. I thought of how this was possibly the most intimate we've been, honestly. We've kissed, of course, but we've never been this close. I could literally feel each time he inhaled because his chest was pressed firmly against my back. His hand, currently gripping onto my waist to keep me close, caught my eye because of the ring. I stared at it like I had never seen it before because I had never actually thought a piece of jewelry held meaning before. For me, my ring was like a permanent shackle keeping me here. But for Matthew it meant something much more than a piece of metal; he often looks at it with silent admiration. It was beyond me.
I still wore both of my rings, mostly because I knew I'd lose them if I took them off for even a second. Even when I took a bath I still wore them. I was slowly getting used to the heaviness on my finger.
We were still lying here in silence for nearly half an hour. I wasn't sure whether he was asleep or still awake, but the silence and contact was beginning to get to me. That, and staring at the rose gold piece of metal on his ring finger.
"Are you still awake?" I whispered.
"Yes."
I stared at the digital clock on my nightstand which read, in bright red numbers, 12:54pm. This would be a normal person's lunch time, or a time a student might be in class. The sun, at this moment, would be over our heads glowing warmly down on us if we didn't have the room completely blacked out.
"Was there something you wanted to tell me?" Matthew asked, his voice but a slight whisper in my ear.
Was there? I had asked him if he were awake. I actually did have a question for him, yet I was concerned the question might spark some argument or something between us. Yet I couldn't keep my mouth shut. "Why marry me?"
He didn't respond for a while, at least a few minutes. I thought he had fallen asleep or completely ignored my question at first. "I believe I already explained this a few nights ago."
I tried not to sigh in relief when he actually replied. "I'm not talking about feelings. I'm just curious why you're choosing marriage, of all things?"
Again, he was quiet. I waited patiently for his response, unsure of what it'd be. I don't know why the whole marriage-thing made me confused. The night he had proposed we should get married, I was baffled. Why would someone want to get married? The only people I've ever seen married were the ones that got drunk one night and woke up with a band on their finger and some living regret lying next to them. Marriage just wasn't something I had ever been around. In my life people screwed around and occasionally lived together. I've had zero influences in the marriage department because I've never been around grandparents or any other family members.
"...If I tell you, are you going to run off and ignore me again?"
Ouch. "It's kind of difficult to run away from you when you're holding me."
His arms tightened around me just enough for me to feel it. "The night I first told you I loved you, I made you promise me something. Do you remember what I wanted from you?"
Confusion swept over me at the change of subject. Or was it? I thought about it, trying to remember that awful night of attempting to kill Matthew and nearly dying myself. It took about a minute before I finally remembered. "You wanted me to promise I'd stay."
"Mmm-hmm. You broke the promise, though I cannot blame you for it. It makes my top three 'Worst Night' of my life."
"Top three? You're nearly a thousand, Matthew. There's no way that'd make your list when you've probably seen a lot of crap in your years."
His chuckle vibrated against my back. "True. But it is still is in my top three. I was miserable."
I remained quiet, unsure of how to respond to something I didn't regret.
"I chose marriage because I want you by my side always and forever, even though you swear like a sailor in your sleep and bit me last time I tried waking you up."
Again, I remained quiet. It amazed me how open he was being. The Matthew I met nearly two years ago would hardly give me his full name. But now Matthew was practically pouring his heart out to me, simply because I asked. I realized Matthew would tell me anything, if I asked. It somehow made me feel like I had some kind of power over him. Yet, deep down, I didn't want to abuse his feelings. Not now, at least. "You're different, you know. From when we first met," I mentioned, slowly relaxing my muscles.
"How so?"
"You were extremely cynical, for one."
"You know what 'cynical' means?" he questioned in surprise.
"Shut up," I grumbled. "You were about as cold as an ice cube, pretty bitter, and you took jabs at me every chance you got."
"I suppose I was. Though I still love taking jabs at you. You're just so amusing when you're angry, Anna."
I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow. "Why do you call me Anna?"
"Well to be quite honest, when we first met, I didn't think you could have possibly killed any vampires. You looked like about as dangerous as a kitten. I thought I'd test you."
This got my attention. Test? "What was the test?"
"If I called you Anna, and you didn't correct me out of fear, I would have found you not worth my time. But if you did correct me, which you had, then it meant you were either brave or stupid enough to stand up against a vampire in a room full of them. Ever since then the name has been a reminder of your either bravery or stupidity, though I believe it's the latter." His nose brushed over the back of my neck affectionately, causing me to squirm a bit. "Although, I must admit, I do love having my own special nickname for you. It's rather amusing and adorable to see your nose wrinkle and your eyes roll."
"Should I come up with a nickname for you? Blondie? Bloodsucker? Mr. Suit?"
"Mr. Suit? That's one of the least creative names you've ever come up with. Though, if you're wanting to call me something, I wouldn't mind love."
I squirmed at the name. We were on the line of going too far, and I knew I had caused it. I couldn't just snub him as I had the other night, but I also had nothing more to say on the topic. "...Um, guess we should sleep."
Matthew didn't say anything, though I could hear him quietly sigh. I broke the promise of ignoring him.
Strangely, I felt bad for upsetting him. I might not have been too familiar with sharing feelings, but I wasn't entirely heartless to just snub him again. I was careful in what I did next. I placed my hand over his and carefully adjusted my position in his arms so my cheek rested directly on his arm. You're being nice. It's just being nice because he's been nice, I thought as I closed my arms.
His arms tightened around me.
My face was wet when I woke up. I believe that's what had woken me up. Something warm and wet was dripping down my face. I reached up and touched my cheek, slowly opening my eyes to observe what the liquid was.
Drool.
It took a bit to process it. I stared at the drool like it was some kind of foreign substance. I was used to drooling, of course, but I usually woke up from it. As I slowly processed the amount of drool all over my face, I realized it wasn't just on my face.
Underneath my face, where my head had been resting, was Matthew's arm.
"You know, I always wanted you to drool over me, but this wasn't what I had in mind," Matthew murmured against my ear.
I sat up, accidentally knocking his other arm off me. My wild eyes looked around the room trying to remember where I was. Surprisingly, Matthew was laughing.
"Your hair looks like something crawled in and died," he explained between chuckles.
My fingers felt up the side of my head, only to find a matted mess of hair from having drooled in it as I slept. "Crap."
Matthew sat up and began to run his fingers through my tangled hair, working the nest out. Although it was difficult to see him fully in the dark, I could make out how concentrated he was on the task. His fingers practically got every tangle out effortlessly. "I think I got it."
I wiped the remaining drool from my face. "I need a shower. I can't believe I drooled in my sleep." My attention shifted from my hair to Matthew's arm. "Sorry about that. You might want to wear a towel next time."
Next time. We both seemed to realize my slip.
"I'm going to take that shower..." I muttered, sliding off the bed and scurrying towards the bathroom, hoping he wouldn't notice me being a little flustered.
After snatching a pair of jeans and a sweater, I locked the door behind me and went as far as to drag the wick laundry hamper in front of the door. I just wanted to be alone for a while. I spent far longer than I needed to for a simple shower. In fact, I was probably in there a good hour just under the hot water. My thoughts were a chaotic mess tangled in a web of emotion. I didn't want to admit he had helped me sleep through the day, but I also couldn't deny it. Whatever he had done, it worked.
Nearly an hour and a half later I emerged from the bathroom with steam pouring out behind me. Matthew wasn't in the bedroom, and the bed was perfectly made. Matthew knew how to make a bed? I knew he was capable of speaking many languages, but being able make his own bed seemed to surprise me.
I headed downstairs, eager for some breakfast, when the smell of something absolutely heavenly hit my nose.
Coffee.
When you have to spend your nights awake and your days asleep, coffee seems to become your greatest friend. I had only had coffee about once or twice while here, only because all of the hiking has just about wiped me out. I followed the scent into the kitchen where I saw possibly the most astonishing thing I've ever laid my eyes on in my life.
Matthew stood in the kitchen with a mug of coffee in his hand and a book in the other, leaning over the island as he seemed captivated in whatever he was reading. But that's not what made me freeze in the doorway.
Matthew was dressed in a pair of jeans, as in jeans normal people wear. They weren't dress pants or formal in any way. They looked new, unlike mine with all of my daily wear, yet had a small rip in the knee that probably came that way. But he wasn't just wearing jeans. No, he went further than just a simple pair of dark jeans. Matthew wore an open plaid, button down shirt with a white undershirt fully exposed. I couldn't process this change. He was even wearing tan hiking boots! Where were the cameras? This had to be a prank. This couldn't possibly be the Matthew Foster I've known.
"If I could, I'd blush from how long you've been staring at me," Matthew spoke before taking an elegant sip from his mug.
I shook my head and stepped further into the room. "I thought we were getting robbed by Paul Bunyan for a minute. My bad," I lied, covering up my surprise with sarcasm, as usual.
He rolled his eyes at me and turned a page in his book. "I figured we might do some more hiking tonight and decided to dress more comfortably." His eyes moved from his book to meet my eyes. "Do you not like it?"
Was he seriously asking my opinion on his outfit? Wasn't it just a year ago when he talked about how much he hated my leggings? Instead of continuing to tease him about his new look, I thought I'd give him my actual opinion. "It looks...nice. Forest life suits you."
"Thank you."
I turned away from him and grabbed a mug out of the cabinet before pouring some freshly brewed coffee into my mug. After adding a frightening amount of sugar and milk, much to Matthew's displeasure, I took a large gulp and nearly smacked myself against the wall. "Whoa! That has quite the kick. Did you pour the whole bag in?"
"I prefer strong coffee," he mentioned.
"I think strong isn't a strong enough word for what this is. I think I just grew some chest hair, and I think I like it."
Matthew stared at me with his head slightly shaking. "You're the strangest creature I have ever met."
I pointed at him with a stern look on my face. "And don't you forget it."
It took only about three sips of coffee before I was ready to take on grizzly bears. Planes could run on this coffee.
"I thought we might do something different tonight," Matthew casually mentioned.
My brow rose in suspicion. "What kind of different?"
He leaned against the counter with a smirk playing on his lips. "It involves physical activity."
My jaw dropped as my fist rose high in the air. "If you're referring to-"
"Sharpening your fighting skills. What did you think I meant? My, my, Anna, your mind is always in the gutter." He shook his head at me as if he didn't totally set me up for that one.
Instead of arguing over it, I focused on what he wanted to do. "You want to sharpen my fighting skills? Now? Why?"
He sat his mug down and faced me with a serious look in his eyes. "I never intended for you to stop your training, Anna. In fact, I believe it will be good for you to practice as often as possible. I want you to be able to defend yourself in case anything were to happen, which I definitely hope won't."
This caught my interest. Matthew was going to help me with my training? I had never actually seen Matthew fight before, making this all the more intriguing. I'd be trained by a vampire who has been around for nearly a thousand years. Pretty sure it doesn't get any better than that. "So you're going to train me?" I eagerly pushed.
His eyes roamed over my face and he pursed his lips. "It concerns me how eager you are to fight me."
My grin was so wide it hurt. "Let me get my shoes! Stay here!" I shouted as I ran up the stairs and quickly threw on a pair of boots.
Matthew stood by the front door with his arms crossed over his chest, now wearing a black leather jacket and an expression I can only compare to a teacher's when a student is acting up. I passed him and went outside, stretching my arms out and cracking my knuckles. It had been so long since I had last done any kind of fighting and, admitted, I kind of became addicted to the thrill. Fighting allowed me to channel my frustrations into physical form rather than drinking, as I used to do. Lately I've had so many frustrations and emotions without being able to do crap about it.
We walked several feet from the cottage until we stood in somewhat of a clearing with a few lights shining nearby. To be quite honest, I might have gone into this feeling rather cocky. I knew Matthew had been around for centuries, but I thought he had to of been rusty. Maybe having bodyguards made him weak? That was what I thought going into this.
Matthew stood in front of me, his arms still crossed in a rather dominating kind of way. "You shouldn't look so eager." He shook his head in disappointment. "Your eagerness makes you appear weaker, like an excited puppy about to fight a dragon."
"Did you just call me a puppy and compare yourself to a dragon?"
"You need to be calm," he went on, ignoring my comment. "By remaining completely tranquil, your enemy will have a difficult time figuring out whether you can fight or not. By looking eager, you're making yourself look immature and naïve."
I narrowed my eyes at him and copied his exact stance and expression. "Better?"
He narrowed his eyes right back at me. "Much better."
"Can we just go ahead and get to the training? Or are we doing some kind of lecture before a test. If so, I forgot my pencil." I knew it was a smartass response, but I hated being lectured.
Matthew shot me another disappointed look. "You think fighting is all about jumping at each other? Sweetheart, it's far more complicated than a few punches."
I should have brought a chair and a cup of hot cocoa for this lecture. Remembering he was teaching me to fight for my own good, I let out a sigh and nodded. "Continue on, Mr. Foster."
"As I was saying..." He took in a deep breath before continuing. "Fighting is more complicated than punching. You have to know what you're doing and who you're facing before you start throwing punches. Take a moment and observe your enemy to figure out their weaknesses. Everyone has a weakness, and I have spent many years learning everyone's."
"How am I supposed to know everyone's weakness? It's not labeled on their forehead."
"You can figure it out several ways. If you have met them before, sometimes it's easy to identify. For example, Beth's hair is her weakness."
I gaped at him, totally lost. "Beth's hair?"
Matthew's lips twitched at my confusion. "Technically it's her vanity, but her hair also is her weakness. Beth takes great pride in her looks, which is easily detectable by the way she touches her hair constantly and smooths her outfit. If you were to fight someone like Beth, you could easily take her down by grabbing her hair and then going in for the kill."
"But Beth is an easy target. An untrained human can take her," I argued.
He shook his head. "Beth isn't as weak as she may appear. But I'll use Nicholas as another example...Nicholas' weakness is his compassion."
Again, I was confused. "How will knowing their emotional weaknesses help in killing them? I need to know if someone has a limp or a cracked rib I can jab."
Matthew chuckled, though I could tell he was already growing frustrated with me. "Not all weaknesses are physical, Anna. If you were to fight Nicholas, you would bring someone else into the fight to take him down. If Nicholas saw someone else was in danger, he would let his guard down and it would be easy to destroy him, not that I would."
This intrigued me, mostly because I hadn't thought of psychologically taking someone down. "What would you say is my weakness?" I questioned, truly curious.
He pursed his lips, observing me through narrowed eyes. "Your pride, to be quite honest. You're also extremely cocky."
I scoffed, waving that off with the back of my hand. "Those aren't weaknesses."
"They are the reason you died the first time."
Ouch. I gaped at him once more, astonished by that remark. "Excuse me?"
Matthew sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "A great fighter first checks their surroundings before proceeding. They check windows and cars in the parking lot and listen to their surroundings. You didn't because you were confident you could kill your target. Even now, standing in front of a vampire who can easily snap your neck before your next heartbeat, you're ready to fight me when you have no chance. That is your weakness."
Ouch. It was like being slapped across the face. For once, I was speechless.
"I apologize if I hurt your feelings, but you asked. You can only truly take someone else down by using their weakness against them. In your case, an enemy could wear you down because you refuse to give up. Physically, your weakness seems to be how you always look where you're about to hit someone seconds before you hit them, making you predictable."
He was really making me want to go back inside and just stare blankly at the fire, and we haven't even started fighting yet. I gritted my teeth and looked up at him through narrowed eyes. "What's your weakness then?" I shot back.
Matthew shook his head with a slight smile playing at his lips. "You don't ask your enemy what their weakness is, Anna. You figure it out."
I groaned.
"Ready to start fighting? You look ready to hit me."
My lips curled into a bitter grin. "Oh yes, I'm ready."
"Hit me then."
He didn't have to tell me twice.
I charged at him with a fiery rage as he simply stood there with his arms crossed. That's pretty much the last thing I remember doing on my own two feet.
Smack!
Leaves went everywhere while I looked up at Matthew with my back pressed against the ground and my hands above my head. Matthew had me pinned down with a large smirk on his face. "You're like a little angry kitten. It's adorable."
I snarled and wiggled underneath him, trying to smack my skull into his as he effortlessly blocked each movement. "Get off of me!"
"Just too cute, the way your nose wrinkles as you try to wiggle out from under me," he mused, bending down to place a small kiss on my nose.
"Just wait until you're asleep! You just wait!"
Matthew threw back his head and roared with laughter.
"You're crushing me!" I complained, going limp in defeat.
He stood up and pulled me to my feet, immediately blocking the punch I threw the second I was upright. "It was a nice effort."
I hated him. "I want to go again. Round two!"
Matthew sighed and stepped away from me, opening his arms to present himself as vulnerable. "We can go as many rounds as you would like, sweetheart. But I'm betting you'll admit defeat at round five."
Fire burned inside of me and my fingers cracked from forming tight fists. I came at him as fast as I could, but this time didn't immediately throw a punch. This time I darted towards the right and threw my left knee upward to ram it into his stomach.
And failed miserably.
Once more, I was on my back with him grinning above me as more leaves fell around us. I was fuming to the point my face felt like fire. Matthew planted another kiss on my face, this time my forehead. "It was a better effort this time, but I could tell you were about to do it because you looked to my right and raised your left leg higher when you came within a foot of me."
"ROUND THREE!" I bellowed, thrashing against him like a ferocious beast.
Matthew found my rage incredibly amusing and began laughing loudly. "I'm ready when you are."
I sat on the ground, my shoulders slumped in defeat as I picked dead leaves out of my hair. By round six Matthew called a time out because he said I was looking rather rough. I was furious, mostly with myself, because I didn't even put a finger on him. Usually with my trainers I've had in the past, I at least would get two or three hits in. But with Matthew? I always ended up on the ground. It was infuriating. I had never felt so defeated before.
Matthew sat in front of me with his back to a tree, watching me with concern in his features. He had offered to get me a glass of water, but I refused out of anger. I just wanted to sit here at my own pity party I was hoping to have by myself. "Are you ready to go inside, love? You look awfully tired."
"I'm fine. I'm just freaking fine," I grumbled, staring down at the ground.
"You'll get better, I promise. I'll help you when I can and hire some people to train you," he encouraged, which only annoyed me more.
"I just want silence, please? Is that too much to ask?"
"...Angry kitten."
"GAH!" I shrieked, smacking my hand down onto a small pile of leaves.
When we both fell into silence-silence meaning I was grumbling and Matthew was chuckling as quietly as he could-I began to think of how I could take Matthew down. I've it before, many moons ago. I almost killed him once. But what had I done? I could barely raise my hand to him before I was back on my back. I just wanted one hit or win. Just one. I had to prove I wasn't as weak or pathetic as he was showing me to be. If only I could think of some hit or move that would destroy him! Just something to make me not feel like a total loser.
That's when I remembered something I almost smacked myself for not remembering earlier. My rage and "cockiness" completely blinded me from what Matthew's weakness truly was. I had completely forgotten until I looked up at him and he smiled at me. Matthew's weakness?
Me.
I'm sure if he was training someone else, they'd be covered in cuts and bruises. But me? I didn't have a scratch on me because Matthew was afraid to hurt me. The night I almost killed him I had distracted him because I was his weakness, both mentally and physically. Even when he showed me my newly refurbished house and I kissed him so he'd let me go, I affected him. It was fighting dirty, and I knew that, but my desire to win completely blinded me from ethics and morals. I just wanted to win.
I dusted off my jeans and stood up, my brows pushed together in determination. "Again," I demanded, stretching my limbs as I waited for him to get up.
Matthew let out another sigh. "Are you sure you don't want a nice hot cup of tea or something?"
"No. Round seven."
He sighed and got to his feet, also brushing the dirt from his jeans. "Fine. Go ahead."
I planned my strategy within seconds, gritting my teeth as Matthew looked at me with boredom. When I charged at him this time, I knew he was going to throw me down. I was ready for him. I felt my back hit the ground seconds later with Matthew pinning me down. He gave me a look of pity, as if he was concerned all of this defeat would destroy me; little did he know I was willing to do anything to beat him.
"Are you ready to go in, sweetheart? It's getting cold," he murmured, brushing a few strands from my face.
My eyes went to his lips slowly, as if I became mesmerized by them. As Matthew told me a thousand times tonight, I always look where my next move would be, and I knew he was paying attention. "Not yet," I quietly replied, leaning closer to him.
I thought he would see right through me. He had to of seen this as being a trick. But, whether it was because of my lack-of-attention towards him or hormones, Matthew seemed instantly just as mesmerized. He was the one to start the kiss. His lips carefully touched mine as if he was afraid I'd push him away. I returned the kiss and pushed my body against his in hopes he would release my hands.
He did.
My fingers grasped his jacket and began to pull the zipper down. He placed a hand behind my neck to keep me from moving away as he kept our lips connected. I pulled his jacket off effortlessly, surprisingly. Matthew moved his lips from mine and brought them to my neck. My breath might have hitched at one point and, as much as it kills me to acknowledge it, I been a little distracted from my original goal. I gritted my teeth and began to pull his shirt up, trying to go back to my original plan. I brought Matthew's lips back to mine and rolled us over so I was on top. Carefully, I managed to pull his shirt all the way up until his chest was exposed. That's when I made my move.
My fingers locked around a stick I had seen earlier when we were sitting and immediately brought it to his chest, right over his heart. I pressed it against his skin, not rough enough to hurt him, and pulled my lips from his as I grinned down at him. "I win," I announced, glowing with victory.
Matthew stared at up me, not looking nearly as defeated as I had thought. Instead, Matthew was also grinning. "I'm not sure I would say that."
My smile fell and I let the stick roll back into the leaves. "What? I found your weakness, Matthew. I know I'm your weakness."
He placed his hands on my waist and continued to grin up at me. "I told you that long ago, sweetheart."
"It means I won! I staked you!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air dramatically.
His grin only widened. "You don't think I knew what you were up to? I let you win, Anna. I knew you were trying to distract me."
All joy left my body at that moment. He let me win? No, he couldn't have. "You're just saying that because you hate losing."
Matthew chuckled and sat up, making me fall into his lap with my legs around his waist. "I'm saying it because it's true. I wasn't about to pass up making out with my wife in the middle of the woods. It got rather heated."
My shoulders slumped and I just about let my body fall backwards into the leaves. If there was anything I hated more than defeat, it was pity. Also being used sucked pretty damn bad. "You jackass."
His grin was wide enough to make even my cheeks hurt. "I'm not the one who toyed with someone's emotions, sweetheart. Although I am the one who gave you a rather visible hickey."
I stared blankly at him as my fingers felt the side of my neck where he had been kissing me, only to feel a slightly more sensitive part of my skin. "You didn't..."
"Hopefully you learned your lesson now. And..." He placed his hands on my back so I couldn't lean away from him as he got closer to my face. "...if you ever want to continue distracting me, you know where I am."
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I've been feeling pretty creative this weekend :)
This chapter ended up being close to 6,400 words, which is about a thousand more than usual. I had written half of it months ago and then got pretty swept up in Joanna's world. I missed Joanna and Lucy so much, especially during a particularly tough few weeks at school.
Joanna and Matthew have got to be one of the cutest couples I have created. <3 Lucy and Xavier are the most passionate, but Joanna and Matthew are the most adorable, I swear. I'm super excited about the next few chapters!
What are your thoughts? Favorite part? What do you think is going to happen within the next few chapters? Ideas?
Thanks for the support and patience! <3
-Currie