Should've Stayed Away- Joseph Descamps

seventeen

!! Mature content ahead !!

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It was like someone had injected my veins with lightning when we kissed. My brain went foggy and the only thing that I could think to care about was Descamps and his touch on me. His hands held onto my forearms as he let himself stumble back onto my bed, bringing me down with him.

The squeak of my old mattress suddenly being impacted with the weight filled the otherwise quiet room, the only other noise came from beyond my closed window. That club's classical music and cars driving echoed softly through the streets like they did every other night. 

Our lips remained connected, tongues joining together and I felt myself being moved on top of him to straddle his jean covered waist. His familiar cologne sank into my nose and I felt the urge to lean down  a little further so that we'd be chest to chest just to be closer to his warmth and luring smell. It all made my head swarm with what felt like warm liquid, all cohesive thinking almost gone.

Almost.

I forced myself to pull my lips off of him and stared down at him underneath me, both of our chests lightly falling with the intensity of the kiss. His hands lightly rested on my hips and his eyes were staring into mine with a hunger in them.

I continued trying to catch my breath, returning his stare before I spoke, "This can't happen again." 

His eyes dropped down to my mouth before they trailed back up to my eyes, his hands following a similar motion as they creeped up from my hips up to my waist, "This has to happen again."

His voice was full of both sincerity and utter sureness, my own will to resist him was crumbling to pieces. But then I looked at his eye patch and I remembered, this wasn't any boy. It was Descamps. The guilt over my betrayal to my friends filled my stomach and left me feeling uneasy. It wasn't fair. The one boy I wanted was the only one that made me completely enraged, he was the only one my friends would never ever approve of. 

And maybe they were right, he wasn't anything remotely close to 'boyfriend material'. He wasn't even a decent person. He was rude, selfish, arrogant, crude, and yet the thought of him with another girl filled me with a desperation I had never felt before. And the idea of me with any other boy left my mouth tasting bitter. 

I didn't know what to do.

He leaned up closer to me, our faces were close again, his arms moved to engulf me in a loose embrace. Warmth flooded over me, shortly followed by the smell of his cologne and I felt myself melt into his strong arms. 

I stared at him and held my breath.

He stared back, a rare serious expression on his face I'd only seen when someone mentioned him loosing his eye. His voice was soft yet deep as he asked me an uninhibited question, "Do you regret it?"

I couldn't find the words to say yes despite my brain screaming at me to. I knew I should be clearing the air and claiming it was a mistake, something so shameful that we should just completely forget about it. Something that can't happen again. But I couldn't say that to him, not when he was looking at me with that intensity and not when my heart lurched at the thought of actually hurting him.