To Love Somebody

05. habromania

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habromania - delusions of happiness 

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Zander leaned against the counter, playing with the purple petals. He'd gotten Misha her favorite flowers.

Purple tulips.

But nothing.

She'd taken the flowers from him and put them in a vase. Not a single word about dinner with her sister or the fact that she'd spilled coffee all over his notes that morning or about their little fight.

"Misha, are you still mad?" He'd figured that at least by now, she would've cooled down a bit. 

And still, absolutely nothing. Not a single sound. Not even a small nod.

She was still ignoring him.

"What are you making for dinner?" He tried talking to her again, repeating exactly the same questions he'd asked her more than a few times now. Grumbling as she ignored him nonetheless. "I said I was sorry. Come on Misha."

Misha narrowed her eyes at him, playfully slapping his hand away from the flowers.

"Stop picking at the petals. No wonder the flowers never last that long."

Zander flashed her a smug smile, pulling another petal and tossing it aside. "I'll stop if you forgive me."

Gritting her teeth, Misha turned her focus back to the tomatoes and basil leaf she was chopping. He shouldn't have yelled at her over some stupid papers. Sure they were important but it was a small mistake.

The flowers, they were pretty. But she wasn't going to tell him that. Yet.

He still had to earn her forgiveness. And so, she focused on making dinner, ignoring his attempts to try and talk to her. 

Sighing, Zander straightened up and grabbed a glass from the cupboard.

He deserved it. Especially after the stressful day he'd had. 

Pouring himself a glass of whiskey, he sat down on the dining table but kept his gaze on her. He smirked, giving her a mischievous grin as she glanced at him, from the corner of her eyes. Just as  quickly, she looked away and pretending to gather her hair into a ponytail. 

"Misha?"

His gaze still set on her, the dark liquid burning his throat.

Zander glanced at the file he'd placed on the counter when he'd gotten home. Rather, he ignored it. He wasn't in the mood for work right now and he didn't want to think about the case right now.

He looked down, narrowed eyes as his phone buzzed.

Natalie wouldn't leave him alone at home either. It had to be at least the third or fourth text she'd sent him, asking about her fucking notes again.

He shifted, ignoring the texts from Natalie and focusing back on Misha. As she continued chopping, dicing the tomatoes.

She was still ignoring him. But he knew what she was trying to do.

Zander knew his wife better than anyone. From the way she was glancing at him every few seconds to the clothes she was barely wearing, he was trying to tempt him, make him pay for being a jerk earlier than morning.

And he knew how to play that game. 

Zander's eyes darkened as she stood on her tiptoes, leaning to reach for a bowl from the second shelf of the cupboard.

His eyes trailed her tan legs, settling on her small ass. The oversized white t-shirt rising up a little as she reached for a red bowl and the tight booty shorts barely covering her.

Zander gulped down the remaining brown liquid, pushing the glass away as he stood up.

His hands, they were immediately on her waist.

"Misha." He whispered against his ear. His warm breath making her shiver instead. "You can't still be mad at me, are you?"

Zander placed a small kiss, just on her ear before moving his lips to her jaw, his lips glued to her skin. Tightening his grip on her waist, he pulled her closer, pressing himself against her.

He knew how her body reacted to him, how she reacted to his every move.

"Stop it." She tried to sound angry, still irritated with him but her attempts, weak. Rather she found herself giving in, like always. Misha arched her neck to the side just as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his lips always against her. 

Nipping softly, he placed sloppy kisses on her neck. 

"Zander." Whispering his name, she gripped onto the counter. "I'm still mad at you." The anger in her voice faint. Her voice, riddled with lust instead. 

His hands, playing with the hem of her shirt. 

"No, you're not." And she wasn't. 

Misha turned around, running her hands through his dark hair, tugging softly as he looked at her, before leaning in and placing his lips against hers. His hands were back on her waist as he lifted her up, his hands tight as she wrapped her slender legs around his waist. 

They fought all the time. Over small, little petty things. But that, it was perfectly fine.

Because at the end of the day, she still loved him.

And he loved her. 

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May 19, 2018 4:48 PM

I can't wait for Zander to start fucking things up :)