'𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒙? 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕.'
|18+| |unedited| ❝We're not meant to do this. It doesn't feel right.❞ My voice was ragged and I completely forgot how to breathe when her hands trailed...
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The taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her so close against me, skin to skin. There was only her. I could only think about her even if that night was days ago. Her moans, the screams of pleasure, the mews, everything was still vivid in my mind.
Images of her face, the biting of her lower lip, the bed pulling, her hair sprawled around the pillow, and her screaming my name lives rent free in my head and I don't want it gone.
If I had to do anything to go back to that time, I would every fucking time. Sad thing is that I don't know if I'm going to really do it with her again.
Fuck.
Thinking about that night makes me hard every time and it hurts. I just want to take her in every possible space, every corner, every—
"Mateo?"
"Hmm?" I respond to the little girl I've gotten used to.
"What's on your mind?" Ophelia asks innocently, oblivious to everything going around her for the past weeks.
If only she knew.
"Nothing much. I'm just thinking about the Disney movie you told me to pick this night." I lie, patting the 'braids' or whatever she was doing to my hair.
"What about Cinderella?" She chirps happily and I mentally roll my eyes.
Vera has practically dumped Ophelia to me, talking about 'get to know her more, she's your baby sister after all'. Not that I mind though but kids will always be kids.
From braiding my hair anytime she has the chance, to sitting me down to watch cartoons with her and forcing me to have a tea party with she and her dolls.
It's sometimes tiring.
"Ophelia, you watch Cinderella everytime, let's watch something else tonight?" I try to convince her. Or let's not watch anything this night, I silently add.
"Cinderella gives me fantasy of the life I wish my mother had." She says, cocking her head to see if she did a great job twisting and turning my hair.
Oh God, how much does this little girl know?
"Ophelia," I start, lifting her off the couch to the ground so we're face to face. "The past is in the past. The past just teaches us lessons we need to learn to go forward. It doesn't matter. We bump it, kick it, crush it out of our way. What matters is that the life your mother has now is what she wants and she's happy with it. She has us and someone she's happy with, and girl, that's all that matter."
When I saw her face I knew that she didn't understand a thing I said.
"What does that even mean? Are you telling me that if I cut myself with a sharp object, it doesn't matter as long as it heals?" She asks and I frown already knowing what she's getting at. "The scar's still there and the pain I faced when I had the cut is still real so I'll try not to hurt myself anymore." She concludes, staring deep into my eyes and I just open and close my mouth unsure of what to say.
