Sunshine (Student/Teacher Romance) 18+

35

Ari

"You can stay here as long as you need to," Abel says to me, his voice seeming so far ahead as he ventures deeper into the house.

I honestly don't feel the same here anymore. The house is the same, Abel's the same. But we aren't the same, and I guess we really haven't been since that day in his record room.

"Mr. C, I..."

He sort of pounds his keys into the counter top and looks up at me over the bar. "You will stay here as long as you need to, Ari."

"Okay..."

I stand by like I've never been here before. Like I'm scared to touch a thing, even though just a couple months back I'd felt his tongue dive past my lips.

Abel opens the fridge and pulls out a carton of juice. I look away just as his fingers curl around two glasses and set on the counter.

The place is a bit messier than I'm used to.
Notebooks lying all over the living room, stacks of paper, pens residing on the coffee table. Blankets and pillows on the couch almost like he's been spending his nights out here.

He brings me back into focus with a cold cup of fruit juice, I take it with a tight smile and realize I'm just now catching my breath from earlier.

We'd stood there, separated by the bar counter, sipping on our drinks in the dim silence until he finally asked what was on his mind.

The inevitable.

"Who are you running from, Ari."

I don't say a word. Instead I take the second to look him over. The tiredness in his skin, the dark circles under his eyes. He's clearly been dealing with his own problems. Abel's an empath. Why should I unload all of my issues onto him and make that look worse.

"I can't help you if you won't tell me," he adds.
It's crazy. Stress looks so good on him. Unkempt hair and rolled up white sleeves. Loose tie and the newly acquired no fucks given practically written on his forehead.

I stare into my cup, half empty. "Why do you think you can help me."

"I can," his voice leaves him so suddenly. "I can do a lot for you. But only if you want me to, Ari. Closed mouths don't get fed."

"Open mouths don't always get fed either."

I hear the small bluff of air leave his nostrils and observe the pissed off look his face has taken on.
"It's a lot Mr. C. It's everything."

He sits on one of the barstools, dragging one out next to him and patting the cushion. "I've got all night."

So I sat with him all night. I told him about the dealer I'd ran from tonight. I told him a little about Diana and Thomas. About my parents, what little I remember about them. I told him about Maya and how our friendship seems to be over after so many years. About how Kaliyah has been my personal tormentor since I was even school aged. How school seemed to be the beginning of when everything went wrong.

"How did they pass, Ari...your parents?"

"My mother was an overdose, and my dad was murdered in jail."

"Shit."

"It's okay. I didn't really even know when any of it happened. I wasn't there when my mom died, I'd just heard about it years after the fact. Thomas loves to remind me that I'm an orphan and if my junkie mom cared about me she would've stopped."

"You know that's not true, right? Addiction isn't so cut and dry."

"Maybe, but maybe he was right. There's no way to tell."

There were a few beats of silence as I push around my empty glass, my shoulders suddenly turned feel heavy and I see Abel's phone light up in his lap. The 3:37 am on the screen makes my chest ache over the fact that I've kept him up so late.

"Well, I think I'm gonna get some sleep," he tells me. "We've got school tomorrow, and—"

"No," the words jumped up from my throat so quickly I could have choked. "I mean...I still need to talk."

He almost frowns, but it's clearly just out of confusion.

"I still have things to say."

He drops his eyes from me and clears his throat. "Okay."

"That kiss...it-"

"Was something we both saw coming. Honestly."

"Yeah," I just about whisper, like my voice vanished under my breath. "And..."

"I know, Ari."

My neck snaps his way. His eyes are fixed at the ground before he looks at me.

"I know. Because every day since you left I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. Worrying about you...wondering if you're safe. This is the first time I've felt some sort of relief. Knowing you're here with me...knowing you're-"

"Safe."

He allows me to gaze into his eyes longer than I was prepared for. It was like the night in the record room.

The heat of the moment.

Our moment.

And as much as I wanted to hold back, not scare him like last time. I couldn't help it.

I'd reached out for him once again.

And this time, he didn't pull away.

This time he welcomed me.

This time he let my fingers shamelessly glide through his hair as I pulled him closer.

His tongue zigzagging along my top lip until I opened up for him. Letting him get a second taste that I can tell he'd been waiting for.

Wanting it just as badly as me.

This time he gripped me by my hips and pulled me onto his lap so that I was straddling him, rocking over his lap as his bulge grew between my legs.

The sensation too good to stay still. Too good to stop.

So good I moaned into his mouth and in that instant, he gripped me by the back of my head and hissed when the movement pulled our lips apart.

"Ari, fuck...you can't do that," the sentence fell smooth off his tongue, his hold so strong on me it kept me from dry humping his lap any further.

"I'm sorry, I just...I thought..."

"It's okay, trust me. I love it, but that's the problem." He sighs, his hands moving down my neck and to my shoulders as I sit in front of him, feeling so...rejected. "I want to protect you. I want to take care of you...teach you and help you. I can't be fucking you too."

"Even if I want it?"

He looks me in the eye, his chin wrinkling as he comes out of the trance we were in together moments ago and softly pinches my chin. "I don't know."

I left his lap, my eyes beginning to water as I processed it all. I couldn't let him see me cry, not after that. Not over that.

So I croaked out a broken goodnight and headed to his room, snatching my tattered bag as I did.