Close As Strangers » (Ashton Irwin a.u.)

Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Heat Of The Moment

Grace was usually insecure about herself, and she's beginning to remember how much. I always remind her how she's crazy and the things she says aren't true about her, but she always disagrees.

She used to really hate herself when we first met. And it took a long time for me to help her through her self esteem struggles. And now it's like that all over again but not as bad. It bothers me to think that she hates herself. I love every inch of her, and my definition of beautiful is her name.

After we moved in together, things got better, and she seemed to accept herself more. Eventually she felt comfortable enough and allowed me to be her first time. Awkward thing to talk about I guess, but it's not really that weird.

But lately I've been missing the feeling of Grace's soft skin under my fingertips, the look of innocence she has though I know what she's thinking, and the feel of her body close to mine.

She used to pull away from me when I would touch her due to her insecurities, and she does now since we're in this whole mess. But at one point she was used to it.

I've been thinking about how we were before. Honestly, we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Even if it was simple things like holding hands, that was us. I have to feel her close to me, protect her, and things like that. It was the assurance of her being there.

I'm feeling almost uncomfortable thinking about it now. I feel flushed just thinking about the heated moments we had that eventually led to other things such as her first time.

We were watching a movie, and I had placed my hand on her knee, slowly moving it up her leg during the movie. Before I knew it she was straddling me and hovering over me. I liked that side to her, but I didn't want to make her feel like she had to do anything.

She looked at me with a knowing stare and pouted, red lips. I ran my fingers through her hair and pulled her lips back to mine. She tugged at my shirt, but I grabbed her hands.

"What are you doing?" I asked. Any other time I wouldn't mind, but like I said, I didn't want her to feel like she had to do anything.

"Please," she said quietly.

"You don't have to."

"I want to." She slowly rid me of my shirt. Her hands moved over the newly exposed skin, and she smiled.

"Don't let me be the only one," I said with a laugh.

She shook her head, and a look of embarrassment crossed her face. I leaned back in, and our lips met. She was distracted from her previous thoughts, and I moved things elsewhere, closing the bedroom door behind us.

I slipped her shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. Immediately she tried to cover herself, folding her arms and cowering away.

"It's okay," I told her. I unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs. I saw marks on her thighs, and she sat down on the end of the bed, knowing I saw them. I gently thumbed across the marks.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, pushing my hands away and covering her legs.

"Why?"

"I hate myself. I'm not good enough for you." I moved her hands, but she covered them again. "Don't."

"It's only me," I said. She loosened her grip on my hands.

"That's what I was worried about."

"But you're so beautiful."

I kissed her again, and gently pushed her down. Things were slow and steady. She would let out a shaky breath and grip onto my arm from time to time. I couldn't imagine what she was thinking about, that I saw the marks or being in the moment.