𝐌𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐳. Even being born right next to the cruel and sick crime life never changed the charismatic and positive Mia who wanted to help change the messy world she formed part off.
Becoming a nurse at the age of 25 and joining her d...
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I watched him sleep for a while, in silence, while I analyzed everything that had happened until the moment he had kissed me. How he went from breaking down in my arms to taking me into his, to the way he stared at me as if it were going to be the last time he did, and to how lost and desperate he looked.
A part of me knew a behavior as irrational as that could only mean one thing but I didn't want to believe it so I decided to ignore it, allowing him to use sex as a distraction like we had done many times before. It was wrong, of course it was. We both knew it, or at least I did, however, that wasn't enough for me to stop it. I needed to feel something apart from pain and pleasure had always been the easy way out.
Combing my fingers through a few of his dark messy strands of hair I gently pull them away from his face so I can see his eyes properly. When he sleeps he has a very different resting face than while awake. All of his features soften his jaw, his cheekbones, his mouth. He looks so in peace. Happy even. And when the morning hits and he opens his eyes for the first time again that's when he looks the most beautiful.
I could stare at him forever and never get bored because I know I would always be able to find something in him to focus on, some detail to obsess over. Maybe over the tiny moles on the outline of his mouth and Cupid's bow, the soft smile lines in the corners of his eyes, or the tiny fainted scar on his chin. Every one of them was worth paying attention to.
He was worthy of every single one of my thoughts.
"I love you," I found myself whispering, so lowly I might have just said it inside my head. My hand resting over the side of his face and the weight of his arm around my waist.
And then I watched him for a few more minutes, knowing that as much as I wished it wasn't like this it's only while sleeping that I will be able to see him so relaxed.
Slowly moving his arm up, I slide away from him and sit down on the side of the bed, still naked, the same as he is. My tears stopped falling the moment I could feel all the pleasure building inside me but I kept hugging him, or more so I kept hiding until he came, using the moment when he went to take a towel to help me get cleaned up to dry away my tears. And as fucked up as it was I needed that, the feeling of him inside me, the intimacy.
Looking towards his bedside table I read the time, 8 pm, we slept for a lot longer than I thought however he still looks extremely tired so when I notice he has his prosthetic on I carefully kneel in the middle of the bed, place my hands over it and very gently remove it. Making sure there's no inflammation before taking the blanket at the feet of the bed and laying it over his lower body.
Redoing my now loose ponytail I finally get up and look around for my scattered clothes. I find my panties underneath his shirt and my hoodie next to his suit slacks.
And once I'm somewhat dressed I take his stuff into my hands to put it away but before I can't even notice I'm doing it I'm suddenly inspecting his pockets. My thoughts go back to how weird he has been acting lately and especially today.
