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12/24/16
"DON'T YOU HAVE to leave soon?" Clayton asks from beside me. I twist my neck slightly so I'm facing him. Our bodies lying side by side, our fingers intertwined. It's all so simple, yet completely twisted all at once.
With a sigh I let my body sink even further into Clayton's bed. If I could stay here forever I would. "Yeah, girls day," I tell him as my eyes rake over his handsome face. A face that I still can't believe I get to touch and kiss. This face and those eyes haunted me for a year after that kiss in the bar. And now here he is, next to me, and it's almost too much sometimes I'm want to pinch myself to reassure myself it's all real.
"Sounds fun," he drawls sarcastically.
A chuckle flutters from my lips. "It is fun!" I exclaim playfully hitting his shoulder. "I love Kylie and Gray," I express honestly. They are my people in this world. My people who even in the darkness have made me see the light.
"Yeah," he breathes out into the small bubble we've created in his room. In this bubble we speak about our pasts, we speak about what we want out of the future, we touch, we kiss, we love without words and it's all so perfect. So perfect that I know that it's about to all come tumbling down. Because nothing can be perfect, especially in my life.
"Can I ask you a question?" I ask Clayton as my fingers trail over his bare chest. His tan warm skin my favorite canvas to draw my fingers across.
His eyes meet mine. "I don't know if we have enough time for questions and what I want to do," he tells me with darkening eyes, and a sexy smirk tugging at his pink lips. My stomach drops, and my chest tightens with his words. My body instantly curls closer into him loving the idea of letting him take charge.
But I also know I want to know everything about this man, and every day I find more questions I have for him. I could ask him questions for the rest of his life and still want to know more about how his beautifully tragic mind works. "Hmm...." I trail letting my teeth tease my bottom lip. "How about just two?" I counter knowing I want every last piece of him.
He raises his eyebrows. "Just two?" he clarifies.
I nod eagerly. "Yes," I murmur with a smile pulling across my face.
His eyes narrow in on my smile and at the sight of mine one pulls across his. Genuine, bright, and breathtakingly perfect. "Fine," he relents.
I bite at the inside of my cheek before asking the next question, because I'm afraid I'll step on his toes and cross an unspoken line with him. But we push each other, that's what we do in this twisted relationship. So I ask away. "Do you drink a lot all the time?" I question. "Like all year long," I state simplifying my words.
Clayton's silent for a few long heartbeats. "I do," he finally answers. "Though it intensifies around this time of the year...around her anniversary," he tells me. His words come out hard and tense, like they usually do whenever he mentions Scarlett to me. But I'll take it, because at least he's talking to me and not keeping everything bottled inside anymore. Neither of us are. We are communicating, even if just with each other, it's a start.
