"Aiden..." I shake my head, eyes fixed anywhere but the gorgeous man next to me.
His hand grips my chin tightly, just enough to make me avert my eyes to his.
"You know you want this as much as I fucking do. I want you to be mine. I want to be the...
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Aiden's soft hair tangles between the valleys of my fingers as I massage his head. His body lays on mine, almost crashing me under the heavy weight of his muscles. His familiar, manly scent envelopes me while we cuddle in bed.
My eyes trace intricate patterns across the permanent ink on his back, noticing how his shoulder blades flex every time he breaths in. One of my favourite tattoos of his is the one sitting above the large scull covering most of his back. It's a butterfly. A disparity to the rest of the dark art.
A disparity like the one between him and I. Unlike me, Aiden is able to speak his feelings without fearing the what if's.
Closing my eyes and pillowing my chin on top of his head, I try to stop the guilt from surging inside me again.
He doesn't know that he's captured me. Heart, soul and body, all together within his range.
Unknowingly.
He owns me.
I love him so much.
Yet, he remains oblivious to the small piece of information torturing my mind and soul.
He deserves to know that I love him.
"Do you want babies in the future?" The sudden question is asked lowly. My eyes fly open at his words, a great feeling of delight dominating me. Silence follows as I think over an answer to give him.
Do I want babies in the future? Is he talking about his babies? Because the answer would straight away be a yes, if that's the case.
"Yeah, do you?" I ask back, although I'm well aware if the response. Aiden keeps his face buried under my hair and nods against me. "Five, I want five babies."
"That would be... eventful." I respond after some time. I knew he wanted a lot of babies, but five? I remember being a child and living with six more of them, my parents had a lot to look after.
"I want five babies and a big house, with a huge backyard... where they can play... all day." He continues in a groggy voice, making me smile.
"Why five?" I ask, glancing at him curiously.
He shrugs, seeming nonchalant, "I'm an only child, the only childlike interactions I would have as a kid, would be when I came over to your place to hang out with your brothers, as well as the family reunions in Italy, but that was it. It's boring being at a house with a few people, not that Enzo and my mom let a dull moment pass by, but I'd always desired the liveliness a home with a lot of people had."
