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eighteen



Brooklyn slowed to a stop in front of my house, and Pink Floyd crooned faintly on the stereo in the background. It was quiet, but the most comfortable kind of quiet I'd ever felt. He just made everything so bearable and so calm, sometimes I had to second guess if he was even real, or if he was someone I just made up to quell the storms that followed me.

But when he reached out to put his hand on mine, he was warm, and he was real.

"Don't look so stressed," he said with a chuckle. "I think we had a good night."

"I'm sorry about Nikki," I grumbled. "I don't know what her problem was, but she had no right to act like that."

Brooklyn shrugged. "It's okay. It's not like I'm not used to that. The finger pointing, the accusations, it's pretty normal in my world."

"Yeah, well not in mine. You shouldn't have to keep going through that when you haven't done anything wrong."

Brooklyn rubbed at the back of his neck, keeping his eyes down towards the stereo. He hit the "next" button, and I couldn't help but notice his shaking hands. More Pink Floyd went on in our silence.

So you think you can tell heaven from hell? Blue sky from pain?

Brooklyn pressed his lips together and furrowed his brows, carefully mulling over his next words. "I don't know Nat..." Every time he looked like he was about to say something else, he pressed his lips together again.

"What Brooklyn?" I said with a playful shove to his arm. "Just say it."

He gave me that sideways, boyish grin of his, and the glow from the moon above us turned his eyes into little pools of light. "Well, there's a lot I want to say, but I'm still learning to catch my breath around you. Every time I look at you...you just take it away."

"Oh stop." I shook my head, but he kept grinning at me, and it was infectious. I grinned right back. "Really?"

I didn't realized how close we were until he reached up and caressed my cheek with his fingers. Every inch of skin that he touched sparked and tingled. "Yeah. Really."

I was burning up. My body physically ached for him, and judging by the way his fingers danced across my skin, gentle but almost sensual, I think he did too.

He pressed his thumb against my chin and tilted my head up to look up at him. His lips brushed against mine, so soft and subtle I had to second guess if it even happened.

My chest was on fire, but I craved the burn. I craved him. "Do you want to come inside for a little while?"

His eyes darkened, and I could feel a storm coming just by looking at him. "Yeah, I'd like that."

After fumbling through my purse for my house keys, I led him by the hand through the dark of the house, the floors and stairs creaking with each step we took.

When we entered my room, my face blanched in horror. I had forgotten how much of a mess it was, with both mine and Nikki's clothes in piles on the worn out plush carpet. Books were stacked against the wall beside my bed, and my desk looked like a hurricane had come through and upended all of my makeup, nail polish and picture frames. Moonlight danced through the open window, giving the room just enough light to see the shapes and shadows of the mess. I didn't dare turn the lights on.

Brooklyn weaved his way across the carpet, slowly slipping off his suit jacket and placing it delicately over The Chair. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, and I couldn't help but grin, seeing his large frame so out of place on my tiny bed, surrounded by purple fuzzy pillows and a paisley patterned comforter.

"I'm sorry it's such a mess," I breathed out, running my hand through my hair. "Getting ready this afternoon was a disaster, and-"

"Would you stop fussing?" He chuckled. He outstretched his arms to me. "Come here."

I walked over to him slowly, still wobbly in my stilettos, and stood between his knees. His hands grazed up my bare legs to the hem of my dress, leaving blistering heat on every inch that his skin touched mine. I gripped his shoulders to steady myself as my head filled with static.

"You okay?" He whispered into my neck.

I nodded and swallowed hard. "Never better," I breathed out.

He gently ran his hand up the crook of my neck, letting his thumb brush over my lips before kissing me. Every movement of his was soft and gentle, and he tasted tangy like vanilla chapstick and cigarettes.

I eased myself into his body, and without breaking our embrace, he pulled me onto his lap so that my legs were wrapped around his waist and our chests were touching, hearts beating furiously against one another. His hands roamed all over me, from my flushed cheeks, through my mess of hair, to my neck and down to my waist. Heat radiated through me, to the very deepest and darkest parts of my body.

I broke away for a moment and went to tie my hair up, but he grabbed my wrist.

"Leave it," he said in a husky voice. "I like it." There was a pause as I felt him smile against my mouth. "And I like you."

Tiny fireworks went off in my chest, and I couldn't breathe.

"I like you too," I said softly.

He kissed me again, and I felt like I didn't even have to come up for air. It was as if he just breathed life into me.

All my nerves clustered in the pit of my stomach as he ran his fingers up my thighs and pulled my dress over my head, discarding it into the dark. He paused for a moment to look at me, his eyes flickering with lust, glowing in the moonlight that poured in through my open window.

"Wow," He said breathlessly.

"What?" I whispered, my chest heaving as I desperately tried to catch my breath.

"You."

If this was what it felt like to be lost in a moment, I never wanted to be found.

With trembling hands I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, pushing the delicate fabric aside and tossing it into the pile with my dress. He wrapped his arm around my torso, and in one swift motion flipped us both over so my back was pressed into the mattress with his knees straddling my waist. His mouth continued to explore my bare skin, trailing down my neck to my collarbone to my shoulder.

"Brooklyn." His name left my mouth in a wistful sigh, and I felt him smile against my skin as he continued to dot kisses down my bare stomach. Lust rippled through me in waves, and I ran my fingers along the short buzz of his hair to the nape of his neck.

"You okay?" he pulled away just enough that I could still feel his breath dance across my skin.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I laid back with my arms out, my chest rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath. "I just...I haven't done this in a long time."

He sat up, his legs still straddling my hips, and gently brushed his fingers along the hem of my underwear.

"We don't have to," he said softly.

"No," I blurted out. "I...I want this."

He leaned back down into me, pressing me deeper into the mattress. I felt him smile against my lips. "I think I've wanted this since the day we met."

We kissed again, this time with enough heat and enough sparks to start a fire. We clawed at the last of each other's clothes, until there was nothing but bare skin separating our very souls from tangling up together. 

A persistent buzzing woke me from the deepest sleep I'd had in a long time. I felt a cool breeze rush through as my eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden light. I glanced over to the other side of my room to see that my window had been left open all night, sending blinding sunlight and salty air pouring into the room.

The buzzing continued, but I ignored it. The boy laying next to me kept me preoccupied. His chest slowly rose and fell with each gentle breath he took. Even though I was still in a haze, I felt a sense of peace watching him sleep. His mouth hung open slightly, but his breath was calm and steady. My stomach clenched as the events of last night came rushing back to me in a fury. I still tasted vanilla on my lips. Vanilla and cigarettes and him.

I fumbled around the sheets to find the source of the buzzing, which I realized was Brooklyn's phone and not mine. When I went to silence it, a text message from a random number popped up on the screen.

UNKNOWN: still owe me for those two shirts. jon is on my ass

"What time is it?" Brooklyn mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep. I dropped his phone onto the mattress and shifted myself underneath the covers. It felt weird going through someone else's phone, and even though it was an accident, a knot in my stomach told me I should not have seen that. I feigned a yawn.

"It's early," I mumbled. "I think your phone has been going off."

"Oh..." Brooklyn furrowed his brows, suddenly very awake as he patted around the sheets for it. I watched his fingers darted across the screen, with his wide, hazy eyes following along as he typed a response.

He rolled over to face me, reaching out to gently run his fingers down my cheek. "I have to get going, okay?" His voice was so soft it rolled over me like a gentle breeze, barely registering until he shimmied out of bed and began collecting his clothes from last night.

"Everything alright?" I asked as I sat up. Brooklyn looked me over and gave me a tired smile, but the foggy discomfort in his eyes was enough of an answer.

"Everything's fine." He let out a sigh. "I'd just rather not start shit with my mom this early. I didn't exactly tell her I was spending the night."

I exhaled as tension left my shoulders. "Well, I guess we didn't really plan that, did we? I don't want you getting into any trouble."

Brooklyn's tired smile grew into that charming, boyish grin that he knew I adored. He leaned over and gently placed a kiss on my forehead.

"Last night was worth all the trouble in the world." 

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