Breathe Me

16. K-I-S-S-I-N-G

Charlie's P.O.V.

Oh my god what did I do? I'm supposed to be mad at him, not melting into him!

But he's so warm, stop fighting it.

Obviously I didn't fight it because when he laid down, I moved closer to him. Now, with his arm around me, I still don't feel like I'll sleep. Turns out, I'm wrong because I'm sleepy within five minutes. I'm fairly sure he's asleep because I felt him relax.

How did I even get the courage to do that? The kiss would've happened whether I had leaned in or he did. But I did. I was the one to kiss him. How did I even...?

I don't know but it felt right and safe and I didn't want to stop but I know I can't continue. I'm mad at him and that's that.

Stop pretending, you're obviously not mad.

Am too! He acted like he hated me and now he's kissing me.

You kissed him, not the other way around.

Even my thoughts won't even agree with me. Whatever, I'm done thinking about it tonight.

Wrong again. The only thoughts in my head are of him. Oh how I was so wrong. His perfect smile, his godlike body, his stupidly adorable hair. I love all of that but at the same time hate myself for it. This is not okay. He's a dick and I shouldn't get involved with a dick.

You mean he's got a dick you're interested in.

I hate myself so much more now.

I close my eyes, giving in to my thoughts and letting myself drift into dreams about him and no, not those kind of dreams you sick, dirty minded people. Shame on you for thinking such inappropriate things.

<3

Not now. Not ever. Sun, go away. Don't come back.

The sun shines through the window panes, casting a bright splotch of light right across my eyes. Opening my eyes was the wrong move. I shut them immediately, cursing whatever sun god is out there. I groan.

"Good morning, little miss grumpy. Enjoying the sunshine, are we?" I turn towards the sound of a voice, opening my eyes again to see Aiden standing in the middle of his room with a grin on his face, once again in nothing but boxers. What a cruel and torturous, yet beautiful world I live in. He's in gray boxers and his hair looks damp, I assume from a recent encounter with the shower faucet. His voice has much more than a simple hint of amusement in it.

"No. Shut the damn blinds." I roll over, forgetting about my stomach for a moment, causing me to wince and let out a small yelp.

"Whoa, sweetheart!" He's beside me in a second. "You've got to be more careful..." He helps me back into my original position carefully. "Will you let me see?" He refers to the bruises on my stomach. I nod, trusting him not to hurt it worse. He's so careful about it as he lifts my shirt just above the bruises. They may hurt a little less than yesterday, but they definitely do not look better. His fingers leave light trails of fire across my stomach, teasing me. The tingling feeling remains long after his hand moves away.

I can see the guilt flash in his eyes again. His eyes cloud over as if he's replaying everything in his mind. He tenses up and doesn't move until I lay my hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

"Hmm?" He looks to me.

"It wasn't your fault." I'm (attempting to be and failing to be) mad at him, but not for being the cause of my bruises. I don't blame him at all for them. I'm only mad at him for yelling at me and treating me the way he did.