Daddy issues || h.s

1.9

She woke up and found the sun high in the sky. It shone through her window and blinded her, but she just rolled over and sat up in the bed. She sat there for a couple of minutes, her feet resting on the floor while she felt her heart beat in her chest and her lungs fill with air. A thunderstorm of butterflies roamed in her stomach, and she could feel the beat of their silky wings in her heart.

She got out of bed, but stopped in front of the mirror. She looked at herself, really looked at her self, stared into her blue eyes, and saw the sun reflected in her golden nose ring. Breathing had never felt easier, the air flowed through her mouth and down into her lungs, nourishing the wild butterflies. They seemed to get wilder for every breath she took, but she could not stop breathing.

The house was filled with the regular morning sounds; her mother making coffee, the radio playing one of those songs that stick to your brain for the rest of the day, cars driving by their house. Everything was like it always had been, everything, except from the low humming coming from the bathroom next door. She bit down on her lower lip when she heard the sound, they were still on fire, the echo of his lips still evident on hers.

"Addie!" her mothers voice snapped her out of her daze, and she caught a glimpse of the clock. "Yeah, I know Mom, I'm going to be late again!" she called back, and stepped out in the hallway.

He was there, his wet ringlets falling over his face and into his eyes. "Hi", she said and smiled at him. "Hi," he said, two deep dimples popping out in his cheeks, and suddenly breathing wasn't so easy any more.

"Adelaide Navarre, if I have to call your name a third time, you will find yourself walking to school!" Abigail's voice cut through the house for the second time that morning, but Adelaide didn't even flinch. "That's okay Mom, I'll just ride my bike," her eyes never left Harrys as she spoke, and just before she walked down the stairs, her hand touched his, lighter than the wings of a butterfly.

Adelaide did not sit under the dying willow at lunchtime that day, in stead; she laid down her rusty bike on the curb in front of Lyana's Coffee shop. Her heart was in her throat, and she couldn't help herself from scratching the almost healed sores on her knees until she felt half-dried blood stick under her fingernails.

"Are they there?" Leah asked, and Adelaide snapped her head up. "Yeah, but I don't know how long they've been inside." She answered, biting her lip nervously. Leah walked up at Adelaide's side and put her arm around her. The two girls stood there on the curb, looking through the window and inside a coffee shop, looking, not at the venue, but at two boys engaged in deep conversation.

Suddenly, one of the boys, the blonde one, snapped his head up and caught eye of the two girls. A smile appeared on his face, and he whispered something to the other boy. Whatever he said made the other boy smile too, and they both laughed, before waving the girls inside.

The pink and white checkered floors of the café greeted them as they entered, and Adelaide tugged at the ends of her hair in anticipation. "We had a feeling you guys would be oustide, you just cant resiste snooping, can you?" Leith said, and Adelaide let go of her hair. "You know us too well. Do you mind if we join you?" She asked. "Not at all," he answered and the two girls slid down in the booth with them. "I'll order you guys a banana milkshake." Kieran said and waved at the waitress.From that moment, Adelaide knew everything was going to be okay, because she could see Kierans little finger hooked in Leiths, and the sadow of a hickey on his jaw. His fingers were covered in black ink, he hadnt drawn for so long he had forgotten how hard it was to get the stains away. But lately, his mind had been so full of stars and butterflies the ink wouldn't stop running down on the pages. He had to buy a new sketchbook soon. As the water from the sink ran over his hands, he scrubbed extra hard, hoping the black stains would go away, but no matter how much soap he used, or how hard he scrubbed, the ink stayed where it was. He let out a small sigh, but it was not the sigh of one who is dissapointed, it was the sigh of one who is content. His reflection stared back at him from the mirror; his ringlets were tousled and there was some toothpaste in the corner of his lips. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and stepped out of the bathroom. He could hear the sound of Abigail cleaning the kitchen from downstairs, and he was just about to go down and tell her goodnight, when the door to the other bathroom opened.Adelaide stood there, dressed only in a towel, with her wet hair slung over one shoulder. Her arms were crossed in an attempt to keep the towel from falling to the floor, but at her chest, the towel dipped down, down, down, exposing the top of her breasts, and a little more. "Hi again," he said, and her head snapped up. She hadn't noticed him before he spoke, and she jumped a bit when he did, but then she smiled and said: "Hello there, I didn't expect to see you here." She laughed a bit. "No? It's not like we both live here or anything," he said, and they both smiled. There it was, once again, the silence between them. Like they had too much to say to dare start a conversation. And so they stood there, until he said. "good night," and turned around to go downstairs. But before he could take even one step, he heard her voice from behind him, saying: "Wait, you forgot something," so he turned around and looked at her. "What did I forget?" he asked. She gently bit down on her bottom lip and walked towards him. "This," she whispered, got up on her tiptoes, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. It felt like a butterfly had landed on his lips, it's soft wings beating in time with his heart. "Oh, that," he wispered and placed a hand at the small of her back. "I definetly didn't forget that." And he kissed her again, but this time there was no butterflywings, only thunder and lightning on a deep crimson red sky. He pushed her gently against the wall, and he could feel her smile against his lips. He smiled back, and shivered when she bit down on his bottom lip. Her right thigh pressed gently between his legs, and a small sigh left his lips when she moved it upwards, torturously slowly. He pulled away, taking in a deep breath. His lips were on fire, and he could feel the thunderstorm raging in his chest. Her eyes were hazy, and her lips were redder than he had ever seen them before, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss them time and time again. But then, just to get back at her, he slid her arm down her side, just as torturously slow as she had done. He slid it down, down, down. Past her chest, past her waist, past her hip, past the towel, all the way down to her knee. The wounds he had noticed earlier were now fresh, as if they were imposed on her skin that very day. "Nervous habit," she said when she noticed him staring at them. She waited for him to say something, but he never did. In stead, he lifted her knee, and got down on his, inspecting it even closer. His breath fanned over the open sores, and gooseflesh spread all over her body. Then he softly kissed her knee, first on one of the wounds, then on another, then a third, a bit further up, at the beginning of her thigh, and the butterflies returned from the storm. "You're good at this aren't you?" she breathed, unable to make her voice carry any longer than it had to. "You have no idea." He whispered and got up from the floor. Her knee fell down, and he kissed her one more time before leaving her alone in the hallway, breathless.