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Last night was a night full of promises. Unfortunately, Marcel fell asleep on me half an hour into Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. It appears that I did the same not long after because the movie menu is on and must have been all night. I'm surprised to be awake before Marcel. He is always the first up. I take this opportunity to caress his head on my lap and lay my head on the back of the couch. I take this time to have some introspection on my life, and how happy I am. I'm sending good thoughts in the universe, wishing for my love for Marcel to last and stay this passionate. I recognise my luck, and I cherish him and everything he does for me.

I remember our first encounter. Knowing what I do now, all of the comments I thought were disrespectful were not. It was his clumsy antisocial and introverted way to tell me how surprised he was. I wasn't what he thought I was. He was complimenting in a way. I was just under so much anxiety. I had so much riding on this book deal, I think I had a short fuse. I was looking too easily for an excuse to not get out of my comfort zone. It was the first time in my life that I stood up for myself. It felt great, in a way. Then, I never would have thought to be in this situation now. I never could have imagined how essential he would be, and how much he would mean to me.

I run my fingers in his caramel locks, caressing his scalp back and forth. I listen to him breathe. His head rests on my lap until his breaths get uneven and he opens his eyes. He moves a little, probably trying to get more comfortable until he realises where he is and sees me looking at him.

"Good morning, my love." I murmur as I comb back the hair on his forehead.

He moans quietly in response, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. He stretches his legs over the armrest at the other end of the couch. I look at him intently, mentally noting his waking habits. When he's done, he finally looks at me with greater attention.

"Good morning." He straightens himself slowly and looks around us, my box of chocolate laying empty on the floor, the laptop still playing the Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban theme. "The last thing I remember is the divination class with the teacups."

"It's ok. We'll watch it again another time. How did you sleep?"

"I slept ok. I'm a bit stiff, but nothing to complain about." He smiles as he frees himself from the duvet. He looks back at me and takes my hand, pulling me his way. I crawl to him and swing a leg over him to straddle his lap. "How did you sleep? I didn't give you much room to get comfortable."

"It was ok. Don't worry about me. I'm tough."

"That, I know." He smirks widely and leans forward to press his lips on mine.

He holds me gently, until I feel the pressure with which he pulls my waist closer to his body. The way he moulds his lips to mine changes also. His tenderness turns into passion, which then turns to hungriness to become purely desperation. I get high on his desire. I'm melting onto him like his kiss is the only thing keeping me alive. He owns my mind and takes over my soul. I seem to stop thinking. It's an overflow of love my body tries to demonstrate but fails. And yet succeeds in bringing us an equivalent in pleasure.

"Marcel..." I pull away and murmur, catching my breath.

He leans forward to reconnect our lips, but I stop him with a hand on his chest. I cradle his cheeks and dive my eyes right into his.

"Remember when I said that I wanted to give you my virginity..."

"Mmh..."

"I want to give it to you now."

"I thought you wanted the moment to be special?"

"I did. And it is. Every moment with you is special. I've waited too long for this."

FLYING  |  Sequel of FALLEN (NaNoWriMo 2022 WINNER)Nơi câu chuyện tồn tại. Hãy khám phá bây giờ