"𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 until you're screaming for forgiveness," I whispered, "until your apologies are like melodies in my ears and 'you won' are the only words your lips know how to form."
His smile brought the temperature in the room down a coup...
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I pulled away.
Emilia was sleeping with her head resting on my chest while I stroked her hair, and all I could think about was our kiss.
I pulled away from her, goddammit. I ruined it.
I ran my free hand over my face, frustrated with myself. I had let it get to my head when I told myself not to.
When my lips first touched Emilia's, it felt like a dream. It was the reality of everything I'd wanted for the past couple of weeks, and I had been going crazy for her touch. So, when we finally kissed five hours before, everything felt perfect.
Until it wasn't.
While I was kissing her, I couldn't help but remember the events of what happened just one year ago, and the guilt gnawed at me until I forced myself to pull away. I wasn't going to take advantage of her.
But then she asked me not to hold back. My lips landed on hers once more, before I pulled away again. She had given me a second chance, and I blew it.
It wasn't until she was sleeping in a separate bed than me that I realized the gravity of what I had done. Of what I had made her say in response.
Didn't you just want to kiss me to get me out of your system?
The answer was no, but I realized it too late. I'd agreed with her, and I couldn't wipe away the memory of heartbreak on her face after the words had left my mouth.
I had figured that giving each other space would be best, which was why I slept in the "spider bed". But then, at 4am, Emilia woke me up by screaming repeatedly.
Matteo. Most of her shouts consisted of that name, and I couldn't help but wonder if that was her brother and she was reliving the horrific memory of him on the ship.
Sighing, I rested my hand on her hair, attempting to adjust my head into a comfortable sleeping position with no luck. But I'd rather be uncomfortable than wake her up.
✦✧✦✧
Before she woke up, I slid out from under her and decided to make her breakfast with the little food we had. By the time she was awake, I was just finishing up some strawberry pancakes and bacon.
"Good morning," I said, smiling at her sleepy frame.
She looked over at me, blinking a few times. "Good morning." Then she sat up, her hair falling over her shoulder and I suddenly couldn't look away. "It smells good."
Clearing my throat, I forced my eyes back to where I was putting the pancakes on the plate. "I made you breakfast. Are you hungry?"
She smiled, then slid out of bed and padded her way over to the kitchen counter. "I'll eat."
