✔︎ | Part of Me (Trilogy)

7 | don't let me go

7 | don't let me go

. . . and I hope it never ends.

Axel stares at me. I stare back. And then he sighs. "Okay." 

I grin wider. "Okay." 

His face lights up again with a big, toothy smile and I swear my heart melts. "Are you coming home with me?" He asks. 

I nod. 

"You sure? You can't even do your own hair," he jokes, "can you make up your own mind?"

I groan and roll my eyes, "shut it."

He smirks, "come on."

I giggle and bite my lip, and he watches me, his eyes grazing over my face, and my lips, and my neck, and I slide my arms around his waist and pull him against me so he realizes that I'm not leaving him. He groans and takes me into his arms and squeezes my body, taking a deep breath, breathing me in, and I can't believe that I didn't realize my feelings for him earlier. I can't believe I denied myself this happiness that grows in my heart and spreads throughout my entire body. It drives me absolutely insane. 

I get into the passenger side and shove the things Axel has on the middle seat to the floor so that I can snuggle into his shoulder. He lets his hand run up my bare legs and rests it on my thigh as we drive, making shivers run through me. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, taking in the smell of sweat and cologne and smoke and feel complete calmness wash over me. 

We reach Axel's place in minutes, and when I glance out of the window into the dark, I realize I haven't been here yet. We pull up to a little shack on the outskirts of town, and Axel parks outside of it, grabbing his bag from the backseat. 

We wander up wooden steps to the door and as Axel unlocks it, he mumbles, "it's not much, but, uh, it's home for now." 

I run my hand over his back and follow him inside, closing and locking the door behind us. 

The inside of the murky trailer is much different from the outside. It actually looks like a home. It's dimly lit when Axel flicks on a light, but it has a comforting aura about it. It smells like Axel too, and I know if he lets me, I'm going to be staying here a lot more than one night. 

He sets his bag down at the door and hangs up his jacket, holding out his arm to let me walk ahead. I smile at him and I glance around, to his room and washroom at the end, the small living room, kitchen, and dining room right when we walk in. 

"I like it," I murmur, "I'm sorry I didn't help you move." 

He shakes his head. "I had a lot of help. Don't worry about it." 

I nod, and sigh, "do you need help with, uh," I point up to his face, and his smirk makes his eye look even more puffy.

He chuckles. "I'll be fine," he comes closer, and my face heats up. He brushes my cheek and mumbles, "how did this happen?" I reach up to find what he's talking about, and I feel a little scratch. I shrug; it probably happened when I, I don't know, fought a big, beefy guy three times my weight, almost twice my height. Axel nods and kisses my cheek gently. "I'll bring some rubbing alcohol after I shower," he whispers, "just in case."