"With love, even water is filling, but without love, not even food will make you full."

──────⊱⁜⊰─────
𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏

"Hello?" He answers with an uncertainty in his tone.

"Hey." I exhale once I finally hear him after a week of being apart.

"Where are you right now?"

"Miami."

His hesitation makes me anxious.

"Is that okay?" I wonder, holding my breath.

"You're safe?" Is all he asks.

"I'm fine. You?"

"I didn't go back to therapy or anything, but trust me, I had some good talks. More like getting yelled at. Mom slapped me, can't say I didn't deserve it. My drinking was becoming a problem, I'm working on it."

"That's all I wanted to hear. How are you... other than that?"

"Better. I miss you, but I'm okay."

"I miss you, too."

There's a silence that makes me question everything.

I want to ask him what will happen when I get back home. If he's done anything with anyone, although I highly doubt it. I did technically break things off and friend zone him.

"Well, I just wanted to hear your voice." I blush, kicking my feet on the bed.

He chuckles cutely. "I love you, alright, I'll see you when you get home?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah... I love you, too."

"Have a good night." He says before ending the call.

~~~

I'm at the airport, ready to go home. Miami is fast, happening, tiring. As much as Port Ember is some sort of demonic, I miss home. I miss my bed. I miss Duke and Stevie. I miss my boyfriend and our friends. Trust me, Jasmine has already gotten on me about going to Miami without her.

Shortly after arriving to Colorado I left. I hopped on a plane to Miami for a few days which was nice. I had a good time alone, of course. I was able to meet some cool people and network. Otherwise, I wouldn't do Miami Beach alone again.

There were only a few times where I found myself longing for Chris because we texted. He would've made the trip a lot better, though.

I find myself constantly looking over my shoulder at the airport, just with an eerie feeling that I'm being watched but that could be because it's early in the morning and I'm alone in this huge facility.

I've had to ward off a few men here and there especially while I was in Miami. None compare to him.

I wanted to go back to Arizona, see what I've been missing. Instead, I decided to start crossing off a few more places on my bucket list.

When Chris and I are on better terms, I'm going to encourage him (and our best friends) to travel more. Like they say, it's good for the soul. Plus, Chris could really use break from work.

While I wait in my seat, I sip some water and cross my legs in the chair to make myself comfortable.

Like everyone else, I engulf myself in apps on my phone.

My phone unlocks to an open tab of Nashville homes that I've been looking at. Barndominium/modern (contemporary) farm style houses are mine and Chris's favorite style.

I close Safari to launch Instagram and the first post I see is one of Chris. Naturally, I pause on it and drool.

He's gotten a haircut. It's nice. I was against him doing a chop but this looks good. He looks more mature and like a rich, hard-worker that he is. The comments agree:

📌LeexSun     HIM!!!
Vaughn.Mary__    my hard-worker 🥰😍😍😍 #proudmom
Prettygirljas @MorganAnn come gather him, he think he cute 🙄
↪️Izzyisdizzy 😭😭
JBFlamer97 HIMMY TURNER‼️
Jack.Jack_gamer01   HIMMY BUTLER😈
↪️Kailyn.gram__ Take notes
kaiyareyes       😍😍😍
Load 1,546 more comments. . .

I find myself going down the rabbit hole and stalking his profile even though I know every post at this point and take majority of his pictures.

My jaw drops despite me having seen this picture a million times before.

What a fine human being. I'm so lucky, my inner thoughts roll. I even comment that, though this post is weeks old.

I remember that day well, too. Chris came back from the gym on this high and I was just getting out of the shower. He completely ravished me, I mean it was a whole different side of him. I fully submitted, he was just so... animalistic and it was one of the sexiest times we've fucked, honestly. And that's saying a lot.

The announcement to board my plane breaks me from this boyfriend-induced coma. I gather my carry-on, my charger, and myself and file in line.

~~~

Beep. Beep.

I make sure the doors to my Lexus are locked before I skip up the stairs to my front door.

Chris's Tesla isn't out front so I take it he's running errands since it's a weekend and he's off. Probably with the boys, or working, I assume.

Would've been nice to come home to him but that's my fault.

Lora jogs past me as I struggle to get my key out to unlock the door.

"Hi, Lora!" I don't know why I still try and speak to her when she insists on ignoring us.

She just throws a hand up but doesn't slow down or look back to acknowledge me. One day.

"Welcome back, beauty." Tim greets me on his way in from the night shift.

I smile at him with closed lips. "What's been going on?"

"Honestly, not too much around here. That's why you need to hurry up and throw this little Halloween party, miss thing." He says, lighting a cigarette.

I push my hip in the door with frustration but keep smiling at my neighbor.

"Halloweekend isn't for another two weeks, Tim." My voice trails off as I walk inside to my barking dogs but he heard me.

"Hi, babies," I greet Duke and Stevie with kisses and belly rubs. "Mommy missed you so much!" gush, kneeling down.

A sudden feeling like something isn't right, like something is wrong, makes me slowly stand on my feet.

Everything is... clean. Sparkling even, basically unlived in.

If this is Christopher's doing, good job. But it will take a lot more than him cleaning his own mess to prove to me that he— Gasp!

He went grocery shopping, too?!

Who is this man?

~~~

Unpack.

Take dogs for a walk.

Get them more food.

Wash Duke and Stevie.

Meal prep for the week.

Do laundry.

Check emails.

Send out 'thank you' letters to donors for the youth center.

Check my P.O. box.

Open packages.

Find the space for said packages.

I even took it upon myself to rearrange the furniture in every room. For a fresh start, you know? We need a cleanse. A new look.
Speaking of new looks, I can't get that one specific shirtless image of Chris out of my head.

I pull it back up for another glance and when the woven laundry basket falls off of my lap I just let it, and scoot back onto the mattress.

My imagination starts to wander, mixed with toe-curling flashbacks.

It's like I can still see, hear, feel, and smell him. This passion flows back to me easily and it's been quite some time since he's last set me on fire.

I swallow hard and zoom in. First on his hair that I'll miss since he's cut it. Then, on his eyes. In this photo, they're dark, suggestive. Sultry.

My fingers slide up my maxi tube dress until it rides over my panties which I've suddenly made a mess in. So I remove them and shudder against the wetness that instantly coats my thighs when I press them together.

His lips, my eyes fall lustfully on next, full and pink. They're almost edible, each time I find his lip between my teeth I have to remind myself that they're not.
Those lips that the most loving, beautiful phrases can come out of, as well as some of the most filthy dirty talk I've ever had the pleasure of being uttered. . .

A fire lights over my skin, sensitivity heightens. My legs tremble and toes curl the faster I bring myself to the edge as I remember the last time he's touched me in this humanly natural, yet sinfully delightful, way.

"Oh my God." I pant for breath once I finish.

My abs tighten as I crunch to sit up, shifting my upper body weight on my elbows.

I snatch some baby wipes that I keep in the dresser on my side of the bed and clean myself between my legs, breasts, and anywhere else sweat has accumulated before going into the bathroom to freshen up and wash my hands.

"Damn it, I just changed the sheets." I talk to myself once I see the wet spot on the comforter.

Ignoring it for now, I pick up the spilled clean laundry I had just folded that fell onto the floor, and drop the basket onto the bed to take care of later.

I need food, I think, walking to the bedroom door.

A gasp escapes my lips, though, when I fully open it and see Chris standing there.

He gives me a second to let my heartrate slow back down before saying anything.

"Hungry?" He ponders.

~

"--Thank you." I grin at our server once he brings over our food.

Dinner smells delicious, I'm glad Chris was also hungry and didn't feel like cooking because I was definitely craving Chinese. I think at this point he can just read my mind.
Plus I've really been wanting to come to this place. It's new. When I walk to the center some days, I can smell the chicken and the dumplings. Something about it makes me really happy.
I really like how it's all neon and shit. I know it's Chinese food but it reminds me of Japanese scenes in the movies and shit - anime. The aesthetic, I guess, is kind of nostalgic in a way.

Harry Styles's song 'Love of my life' plays through the speakers of the small space.

"Oh, that's enough." Chris says to the waiter before I can. I'm not a big tea drinker and he was pouring way too much, I wouldn't wanna waste it.
Though he didn't have to, I appreciate Chris speaking up for me.

The server bows at us before walking away, having also given us a pair of chopsticks each to which I disregard for a plastic fork instead.

Chris physically removes the fork from my hands to replace with the chopsticks.

"You still don't know how to use these?" he sounds judgmental per usual but it's funny here.

I roll my neck. "It's hard."

He shakes his head and positions my fingers to use the foreign utensil. He's impatient plus I suck at this but I'm thankful, I don't wanna be the white girl in here who's uncultured. A pre-teen is a few tables over using them like a pro.

Eventually, though, I get the hang of it. I think I knew before, I just forgot and didn't care to learn again. . .

"The noodles are so good." I talk with my mouth full.

Chris laughs small, blowing his first. "I've been meaning to come here. They opened last week but I didn't want to come without you."

"You're so thoughtful." My tone rings sarcastic which earns a laugh and playful nudge but I mean it. He is considerate.

"How have things been since I was gone, anyway?" I dare to ask.

"Better." He swallows his food.

"Damn." I sit up and blink slow.

Chris chuckles. "I don't mean it like that, but... in a way, I do."

"Well, remind me to disappear more often." I try to joke.

He flashes his teeth again and I do a double take before chewing my lower lip to conceal any flirtations from passing them. He's so handsome.

"Don't you dare." Chris makes me smile because I feel wanted again -- needed, almost. And that feels nice.

We both just eat in silence for a while. It's a good silence.
I turn my thoughts off to just exist in this moment. It's not awkward or forced or emotional, it's exactly what it needs to be right now: easy, fun, platonic, not dramatic bullshit.

"You didn't say anything about the haircut..." Chris fishes for feedback.

My lips want to curl into a bashful smirk but I hide behind my glass of water.

"I like it." I mumble with burning cheeks.

I more than like it.

Chris wears this smile to the side, it's sexy, he knows it, but just stuffs his face instead of acknowledging my sudden shyness as I'm avoiding contact after what I did in the bedroom to his picture.

"Wanna tell me about your little vacation?" he keeps the conversation going.

I clear my throat and correct my posture. "Uh, yeah. I went to Miami-"

"You went to Miami?!" He reacts dramatically for comedic effect, already knowing that I went.

I throw my head back, laughing out loud. My arms cross over my chest as I meet Chris's green eyes and sigh. "Yes, I went to Miami."

"You brought me something back, right?"

I nod.

"What?" he asks.

I lean forward and kiss his cheek. "That," I say meekly, stirring my noodles.

I steal a glance at Chris and see him fighting a smile, too.

"What?" I nervously ask when I feel his gaze on me. I'm blushing, I know it. My cheeks are probably bright red right now, I can't help it with the way he's seeing me - looking into my soul.

I tuck the hair behind my ear and slurp down more ramen.

Chris shakes his head and rips his glare away from my face.

He opens a fortune cookie and reads it aloud, "Your time is coming."

I look scared while he gives a thumbs down and blows a raspberry. "I don't like that one," he says. "Let's trade."

I laugh and try to snatch mine before he steals it.

When I crack it open to see what it says, it reads:

beware the parade of masks and shed your own