☆☆☆ Chapter 57 ☆☆☆

This Time for Sure

It all started with an ashamed, soft peck of apology, but I swear I didn't think of anything beyond the peck, 'cuz, because, I felt like a terrible, terrible piece of shit. I swear. As soon as it was planted, I had backed away from him and glared hard at the metallic green chipping off of my nails.

I was hot all over, from the face all the way down to the tips of my toes as I did that. And my heart beat like crazy and tumbled over itself. I even felt the blood pumping in and out of it. I heard it frantically do its job. But I swear, I wasn't turned on.

My vision was blurry and wet things from both my eyes and nose clung to the very edge of my chin. I had no time to see him as the beautiful sex god he was. I was breaking apart with guilt. I had no space in my head for that. Nowhere in my body or soul did I want his touch.

I swear, I seriously didn't know what to do and my stupid mouth, for once— but in the worst moment possible— didn't have anything to say. Yes, in the one moment I actually needed it to work, it failed me.

That's why I kissed him.

I thought he would feel what I felt. I thought it would let him know every little thing I felt. How much I wanted to apologize. How I didn't mean to say the things I said and how I didn't want it to happen again. How I want to do better and make it up to him.

It wasn't even a nice kiss. As soon as our lips touched, it was over. And that one millisecond of contact they had was sloppy.

I didn't mean to do any more than that. I swear. I already thought pecking him once was bad enough— Daniel was hurting, and I was the one that had done it. Guilt stung me like a mothertrucker.

That's why I backed away from him.

I think he misunderstood my intentions── a minute in of me glaring at my nails, I heard him take in a huge helping of air. He didn't let it out. Not until I looked up. I didn't meet his eyes, but it's not like he wanted me to anyway. His attention was on the bed, and he was picking at his lower lip with his fingers. He was far away, somewhere in his head and definitely not thinking good things about what I had done. Definitely. The crease in between his eyebrows said it all.

I couldn't take it.

My hands went for his face long before I could process anything. They held his cheeks, turned his head, and the more I ached, the more they pulled me forward. By the time I managed to gulp away a nasty sob our foreheads were stuck together. Our breaths were short and warm, silently coming out of our mouths. I remember thinking of how close we were to kissing again, of how easy it would be to just lean a little and show him what I felt one more time.

And, so, that's what I ended up doing. It felt right.

I thought for sure he would finally understand, especially 'cuz I made it last longer than the first one. I was a lot more desperate and touchy but it was perfect, just perfect. By the end of it, when I let him go, I even gained enough courage to speak.

He interrupted my apology with the way he held my hips. It was a tight grip that brought me into his arms and distracted me from his lips until the very moment they pressed themselves against mine. For a good minute they did nothing but press and push me around but once he put his foot out behind me and I tripped things changed real quick.

I was lying on the bed, relieved I didn't hit the floor, when I finally got a glimpse of his eyes. There was a raging fire in them that fought dozens of tears back. They were screaming in pain and burning away any shred of the Daniel dying to take himself out of it. When they found me looking at them he jerked away from me, slid a wrist under his nose, and straight up sobbed. It was loud and out of control, broken and hoarse. He had cried more than enough before to fill up a pool but this time things were different. There were still many tears coming out of him, yes, but not too many. He was reaching his limit, he was tired. Tired of me and all I've put him through. Tired of my bullshit. But he loved me and that must've torn him apart to realize. So something else threatened to come out of him. Blood. His whole face was as bright as the red running through his veins.

A ball of pure horror grew and grew in my throat the more the thought fed on me, the more his sobs drowned out the frantic beats of my heart. It made me struggle with taking air in and out, it made me feel cold. The sticky sweat clutching onto every part of me only made things worse. They all laughed at me, telling themselves 'it's about time' and summoned chills from god knows where. Maybe from the tears I was trying to blink away.

I couldn't take it.

One more time. I needed to show him what I felt, one more time. I needed to, I had to.

I yanked him down and soon enough our lips locked. This time my tongue went in and pleaded for mercy.

I'm sorry. Don't give up on me. You're tired, but you love me. You love me. I love you. We love each other. I'm learning. I'm working on myself. I'll be better, I promise. I'll be careful. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

He made no reply. He was nothing but a handsome, beautiful statue. But I didn't want to let go and have things stay as they were. I needed to make him understand. I had to.

I went for his neck and did exactly what he liked as I pulled some hair. Five seconds in he moaned softly, giving me the green light to keep on going. I knew then that I finally had a chance to get a hold of him and I wasn't gonna put it to waste. I quickly wrapped my legs around him and planned to stop messing with his neck every now and then so that he could have the time to long for it. I was ready to show him every little thing I felt through all of the nips and kisses he so dearly loved.

Daniel had something else in mind though— he stopped me from doing what I wanted. He wiggled himself out of my hold and put my wrists over my head. He didn't let me see his face and instead chose to smother it into the hollow middle of my breasts. His every breath tickled me from then on.

I remember him doing a long sigh in there, one that sent the sweetest of shivers down my spine, and him whining something 'bout how mean or sly I was, which I clearly wasn't because if anything I was in the middle of apologizing for it. I tried to speak for myself but three things shut me up. One, Daniel's tongue down my throat, two, his touch, and three, the warmth of his bare chest.

His moves on me left me jumbled up with all sorts of thoughts and emotions and he gave me no time to sort them out. I didn't know what to do 'cuz I swear, I didn't have any of that in mind at first, I just wanted to make him understand, but it was totally welcomed. I missed him.

The sweet vanilla taste of his mouth was intoxicating, it didn't take long for me to join in on the fun. I couldn't hold back my excitement. I used some force to make him let go of my hands and tried to run them down his smooth back once they were free, but my boyfriend had an agenda of his own that had him jerk away from them. He grabbed my wrists and put them back over my head, this time biting my lip as a warning. Honestly I can't put into words how hot that was for me, I just know that once he did that I groaned with everything I had and my hips were up in the sky trying their best to reach him. They never did. He didn't let it happen.

His lips kissed mine goodbye before they worked their way down. They took their precious time planting soft little pecks wherever they could before they reached my inner thighs, but once they were there my brain had a meltdown. I turned into a literal hot mess. Every part of me felt like it was on fire and he knew it, he felt it. It encouraged him to be bold and daring, something he had no problems with doing.

In a haze I tried to lift myself up with my elbows to see him and maybe pull some of his hair again but he pushed me back down and used that as an opportunity to leave the bed altogether to kneel on the floor, which gave him the best position to spread my legs wider and have me writhe in pleasure from his adventurous lips and tongue. I had to grip hard on a pillow just to keep myself somewhat sane. I had no idea he could get better than he already was until that moment.

It's no surprise that when he finished me off I was straight up screaming. I think I was louder than the yapping thunder outside and that says a lot. Daniel, though, he gave me a crazy surprise. I never heard him moan the way he did when I finished and I don't know why he moaned in the first place. I mean, I had a good idea why── I saw one of his hands slide down into his shorts earlier on── but he would never admit to it if I asked. Only his journal would dare to tell me, if I find myself invading his privacy again.

Daniel sat on his knees for a while, resting on me, whimpering, teasing the sensitive parts of my body that were done for the night with his panting, until we both calmed down.

He was the first to move. He stood up, adjusted his shorts, wiped a messy hand with a nearby tissue, and took a second to look down at me. I think that was the only time in a whole hour that he let me see his face, and there was no joy in it, no pain either. It was empty, completely empty, as if I weren't there.

A punch to the gut, that's what it was.

My feelings never reached him.

"I'm sorry," I quickly stammered. You're too good. Too good, I know. I'm so sorry for everything. "I'm sorry!"

He didn't hear it. By then he'd already shut the door behind him.

☆☆☆

I lay on the bed crying to myself, thinking back on what had happened like a broken record. My brain had no problem with such torture. Every time I sniffled, his painful sobs followed and the ghosts of his touch pinched me. Every time I wiped my eyes I would remember the broken emeralds of my loving boyfriend turning into empty nothings.

My brain was justified for doing it.

I hurt him, and somehow when all I wanted to do was apologize, one thing led to another and we suddenly had the hottest night we've ever had. Well, I did. He worked wonders with me.

He didn't feel the same and obviously he wouldn't have no matter what, 'cuz I basically failed him. He didn't see what I tried to show him. To him, what we did was nothing but me using him for some fun, which was totally not the case.

I failed him.

Outside the rain went off, challenged the air conditioner and beat it to a pulp. Hearing it happen in real-time made it easy for me to believe it was all me letting it out and not the clouds. Made it easy to drown in the saltiness of my tears and tremble in the horror of what I'd done. What I've been doing. And it made Daniel's sudden return all the more startling.

The rain came down even harder when he stepped out of the bathroom. A blinding flash of light hit the sky. Thunder roared. My throat burned.

In the middle of the storm, he looked at me, as I did to him.

I looked the same as how he'd left me, down to the position. On the bed, by its edge. Naked below the waist, too tired to roll down my dress and pick up my underwear. Snot and tears── both dry and wet── on my face. 

He didn't. 

He had a fresh pair of pajama shorts on and a dark t-shirt that made his rosy skin stand out. His blond waves were gel-free and all over the place, and somehow, despite having just been blow dried, they kept their shine. His eyes were lively but unreadable and his lips refused to slip away any sort of clues for me. For all I know, he could've been happy and excited. Or fuming with anger── his rosiness supported that. Whatever the case, it was progress compared to the emptiness that was in his face before. Anything's better than nothing. Still, I gulped. Butterflies were caged in my stomach and they weren't too friendly about it.

He broke the silence. "We need to talk." I winced as soon as he added a "now."

"Tomorrow," I replied. Guilt and shame burned their way up my throat. "Please."

He licked his lips, sat himself next to me, and played with his thumbs. He stayed that way for a while, completely fixed on how his tiny fingers moved, enough for the pink in his skin to fade away into the usual pale. It almost felt as if he ignored me.

"Fine. Tomorrow."

At that, he turned off the lamp and made himself comfortable on the bed. I quietly followed.

I didn't think he would cling to me after everything that happened, not for a single second, but he did. He clung to me with a hug from behind and pressed his face on my back. He didn't yawn out a "sweet dreams" or an "I love you" like he usually did, but the soft scent of his shampoo was more than enough to soothe me and I didn't even deserve that. Even less so a hug. He's just too good of a person. Too in love with me. Overlooks what I do. What I've done.

He's a frickin' puppy and I love him for it, don't I? I'm the worst. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby."

He gave me a little squeeze.