❝Read me your favorite pieces of poetry while I please you❞ I feel his hardness grow underneath me and watch as his chest begins to rise and fall. His lips part open with heavy breaths.
I begin to unbutton his shirt slowly, kissing down his neck alm...
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"How was your week away?"
"Interesting," I say as I think back to the events.
"I mean other than being stuck with a judged mental family, I didn't hate everything. Some parts were rather enjoyable" Adam doesn't catch onto my words but he does catch onto my tone.
"There's more to the story than you're telling isn't there" I shrug my shoulders and he shakes his head.
"There's nothing more to tell, but enough about me. Did you go on that 'coming to terms with your past' trip you spoke so highly about?"
"I tried, then I realized there was more I had to come to terms with before anything or anyone else" Adam never fails to confuse me sometimes, especially when he keeps my gaze for a few seconds before redirecting his attention.
"Nothing changed when I went home, Grandma still tells everyone she practically 'saved me' & and my entire town looking at me like I have some bullseye on my forehead" I guide the conversation away from the look he had given me.
"I met my father's girlfriend, I didn't talk to her much because I refuse to acknowledge that my father had actually landed himself into another relationship" Judging by this week, he seemed to be serious about Celeste, completely serious and I've never seen him make it this far after mother.
I glance around his room, "This is a really nice lamp" I stop and stare at the antique lamp.
"I'm sure my lamp appreciates that" Adam laughs but I'm actually serious.
Adam's whole room fit his whole personality, the only lights were his two lamps with vintage lampshades covering them, he had old paintings up, they were all beautiful as if they belonged in a museum.
"Did you steal these? They look too nice to have been bought in a store" He stands next to me, looking at the painting with a smile.
"It was painted for me, all of them were" He points out, he stares at the paintings a little longer and a wider smile takes its place on his face.
"They're really talented, if I were them and could paint like this, I'd go to Juilliard or have my own art show" Adam and I stood for the next two minutes and he explained each painting and its meaning.
"There's no way you drove a motorcycle, did you have some other life before all the counseling stuff?" I face him with my arms crossed.
"I'm getting the feeling like you think I was some boring teenager with good grades and intentions" He rolls his eyes when I give him the 'I mean' look and crosses his hands over his biceps.
"I still have the motorcycle, how do you think I get here every morning?"
"That's your motorcycle! Honestly, you're not as boring as I thought you would be" He puts his hand over his heart as if I shot him, "I mean it's the vest and the white button-ups and the whole, dad like advice you give me"
