Finding Obsidian

42 - That Pisse-Froid

I slammed the door to Rian's apartment open, striding inside.

I'd spent the night back at my place, fuming and nostalgic and a bit ashamed. I couldn't sleep—not out of embarrassment, but rather out of sheer desire. 

It was after noon now, and every one of my nerves still tingled with the memory of his lips on mine.

This was an affliction. A disease.

That pisse-froid had done something to me and now he was going to take responsibility for it.

Siggy barked as soon as I walked in. I crouched to pet him, glancing over at his corner. His food and water bowls were both full. So Rian had been taking care of him while I was gone, hm? 

For some reason, that thought only stoked the fire in my chest. I gave Siggy one more affectionate scratch behind the ears before getting up. My skin felt like it was aflame.

Just then, the door to Rian's bedroom opened and he stepped out. 

Speak of the devil.

His hair was damp from the shower, his body draped in an unbuttoned shirt and dark sweatpants. His chiselled torso, along with the tattoos that covered it, was on full display. My fingers itched to trace the inky designs, but I just barely managed to restrain myself.

He'd probably heard Siggy's howl and came to check for the cause — instead, his eyes landed on me.

"Hanna," he said, surprised. "You're back."

I slipped off my coat, tossing it on the coffee table determinedly. "No shit," I muttered, glaring at him. "Sit down."

He blinked, his long lashes glistening with water. He raised an eyebrow. "Hanna, I don't think—"

"I said sit, Rian."

He frowned but did as I asked, settling onto the couch so he was facing me. His chest was still gloriously bare, and I couldn't keep myself from eyeing it as I moved closer.

"Listen, Hanna," he began, raking his wet hair back from his forehead. He furrowed his brow. "Yesterday, I . . ."

I paused, only a foot away from him now. "What about yesterday, Rian?" I asked coolly.

He looked up at me, an indecipherable glimmer in his eyes. There was a weighty pause before he spoke. 

"Yesterday, I did something I shouldn't have done."

I took another step forward. We were toe to toe now. My glare didn't soften in the slightest. 

"You're right," I agreed. "You shouldn't have. But you did."

His lips parted and he glanced away, nodding as though he'd expected that answer. He swallowed. "Right. Well, it's good we're on the same page."

"I don't think we are," I replied, leaning forward. He frowned.

"What do you mea—"

His voice choked off as I slid onto his lap, straddling him. My every pore thrummed with electric energy as his hands moved to my back on pure instinct. I suppressed a shiver when he shifted so I was pressed against him completely.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, eyeing my mouth hungrily.

I draped my arms around his neck, my fingers digging into his hair. "You started this, you idiot," I grumbled. "I'm just finishing it."

"Hanna—"

"Shut up and kiss me, Haltie."

He stared up at my glaring face for a moment longer, matching it with one of his own.