I WAS TREMBLING at his words; trembling at how they made me feel. You know when you're on a rollercoaster, and you've been uptight the whole time, closing your eyes and clenching on to the bar until you finally decide to let go and open your eyes? And once you do, you couldn't feel more alive, or more relieved? That's exactly how it felt.
I slowly kiss his cheek, looking at him the whole time as his brown eyes twinkled. I quickly remove my lips from his cheek and gather all my belongings. "I'll see you later, David," I say, giving him a small smile before leaving.
He rapidly grabs my forearm tightly, not too tight to hurt me of course, but tight enough to make me stop in my tracks. Turning around, I give him a questioning look. "I've written about you too."
I'm taken aback. Me? Writing about me? Having one person writing about you or to you is flattering, but to have that one person who has such a magical way with words write about you is a completely different thing and god, did it make you feel special.
"Why me?" I laugh quietly, still in disbelief, taking a strand of hair and stuffing it behind my ear whilst continuing to make eye contact with the ground. "I mean; there are so many people who are talented, amazing, happy, funny... beautiful people. Out of all of them, why me?" I look at him in confusion, feeling both confused but incredibly delighted.
He smiles. "Who said you weren't one of them?" He replied, which kind of annoyed me. I didn't want to hear this sappy, cheesy bullshit. I wanted to hear the truth, and me being 'beautiful' or 'talented' wasn't that. He sighs. "I know you don't believe me, lovely. I hope you do someday though; someday, I hope you realise your worth."
My heart warms again; I hated the effect that he gave me. Not really. I didn't hate the effect; I hated how I got it in the first place. I've only kissed one person in my life, but I can almost promise you that if I were to kiss someone else, I wouldn't feel everything that I feel with Alex. "What did you write?"
He rubs his neck nervously, causing a smile to creep onto my face. He was honestly the cutest when he was nervous. "It's probably my worst work yet. It's just horrible, but I'll show it to you anyway," he sighs, and I immediately doubt that this is his worst work. I am aware that everyone has his or her worst in something, but I couldn't think about something bad about Alex; it was almost impossible.
He looks through some drawers to find a rough, little black notebook, which he quickly opens, to see jagged pages with Alex's cutely dishevelled handwriting. He stops at one of the pages, which I assume is the poem he was talking about. "It isn't really a poem. More of an indirect letter," he clears up and I nod my head, wanting to hear it. He clears his throat and I impatiently wait, wanting to hear every word. He shakes his head. "I can't read it."
I nod; taking the notebook from him as he self cautiously watches me read what he wrote.
A girl;
not a normal one, I'm afraid
one with a severe case of individuality
suffering from a constant feeling of apprehension
a girl;
painfully skinny, yet a recurring desire to not be fat resides within her
uniquely beautiful
with untouchable, soft porcelain skin,
golden blond hair angels would long for
all smooth surfaces have edges
and hers happens to be her dark as night eye shadow
accompanied with innocent ice blue eyes
cigarettes allow her to feel
to not be the girl with severe case of individuality
or the one with a constant feeling of apprehension
to be a normal one,
I'm afraid.
A tear wells up in my eye. "How is this your worst?" I think aloud, continuing to read it over and over. It was beautiful, yet about me. How could that be? His writing was so, so good that it made me cry, to be honest. How could someone have such ability with words? I was someone who could barely let people know how I was feeling. I found it indescribable, and he? Words were magic for him.
He shrugs, looking at me puzzled as if there were everything in this universe to hate about his piece which absolute shit obviously. I sit on the desk, legs slightly apart as he stands in front of me, still staring, as I continue to scan the page. I let out a sigh; this was probably the time to tell him. "Do you know who my favourite poet is, Alex?" I speak, setting his handwritten note on the desk before getting up and ending up dangerously close to Alex, which wasn't a bad thing at all.
Everything seemed even better up close when it came to Alex; how he smelt and the features that you could only really see when people were close to you. They were normally the features that people were insecure about, but let me tell you, Alex had nothing to be insecure about.
Alex shook his head in response, obviously indicating that he did not know the answer to my question. "Well, here's a clue. You and him have the privilege of sharing the exact same name," I answer for him, as he rolls his eyes, and I'm flabbergasted at his response. I was known to be the stubborn one, not him.
"That's the most biased load o' shit I've ever heard, Kim," he retorts, shaking his head in disbelief. Reading my facial expressions like a novel, he speaks again. "How can you expect me to believe you when you've only mentioned this now?"
"Well, I'd expect you to believe what I say," I reply, my tone of voice not sounding as happy as usual.
Alex sighs, probably getting sick of my shit. "You know that I didn't mean it like that, Kim," he whispers, his eyes boring into mine, his eyes were looking so directly at me, I lost my ability to think about anything else but him. Him only.
"I do?" I question immediately.
"Whether you did or not, I didn't mean it in that way. I just find it hard to believe that when you only just mentioned it now, right after-"
"Suck it and see, Arabella, and Balaclava are three of your works, Alex. BandsAndCigaretteSmoke ring a bell?" I quickly usher out of me. It was said. He knows.
"Deborah," he says and it makes me feel all fuzzy inside knowing that he remembered that. It seemed like ages ago. Years even. His eyes are widened a little, remaining in shock after my little, unimportant confession. Rubbing his head in slight stress, his eyes flicker back to me. "How long have you known it was me?"
I ran my hand through my hair; I could sense a riot between us. "I knew since the day I fainted; when you first revealed your name to me," I say, my voice unsure, but what I was saying wasn't what I was unsure of. I was unsure of whether I had anything, yet to tell him. "I thought it might be you for a couple of days, too."
"How come you didn't tell me?"
I had a few ideas as to why I didn't tell him, but I guess, for the most part, I didn't see it as something that important to tell him. "I didn't know that it was something that I had to tell. I was just waiting for the right time."
Alex lets out a relieving sigh and begins to slowly rub my shoulders. "Sorry about getting so frustrated," he says, sounding sick of himself, and I immediately feel bad and notice that he was looking down. I push his head chin up with the tip of my index finger and he holds my finger before slowly and gently pushing it aside. Hurt flashes through me; it had felt as though he was declining my touch. Of course he was. He doesn't want your filthy, disgusting touch.
"Don't be offended. I just-" He says, looking at a way to say what he wanted to say without offending me or speaking unclearly; he wanted what he was going to say to be straightforward. "I don't want you to feel bad. I was getting frustrated over something silly, not you."
I feel as though arguing would just make things worse, even though I could debate for hours on how what he was frustrated about wasn't 'silly' and was important; everything that affected him had to be important.
"Everyone gets frustrated," I say and try to wave it off as nothing to prevent the stress for the two of us. "It's only human of you."
It wasn't as though I was mad at him for being frustrated, though. It wasn't like he was taking it out on me. He was just very passionate about his work, and obviously didn't want to say so because of the fact he probably thinks it would come off as though he were 'dorky' which I don't care about. Alex's a good person, slapping a label like 'dorky' won't change that, ever.
Alex simply nods his head, obviously not agreeing to what I was saying. It seemed as though this conversation had been dragged on for too long and was getting old. I take a deep breath. "Can we go to 505?"
"Why not?" He smiles, and we finally let go of this conversation as we make our way to 505, and I couldn't help but think about whether this was our place. I began to replay Alex's warm, sweet smile. I hope he wasn't insecure about his smile; it was perfect. His teeth were a lovely pearly white and his cheeks were a little bit chubbier which enhanced his cuteness and really helped him glow.
"20 questions?" I suggest and he laughs, but nods anyways in approval. I begin to think of things to ask him; not incredibly important things, but the little things. "Favourite colour?"
"Burnt Sienna, definitely," he replies, with him smooth, creamy voice which was in all honesty, the best thing I've ever heard in my life. The way he pronounced Burnt Sienna was just beautiful and so was he.
"Favourite animal?" I inquire, looking at him as he starts to think of an answer for me; from this, I began to assume that Alex was indecisive, that he just liked things that were considered 'nice' and that were it. It didn't have to fall into a particular category and he didn't have a set of criteria for it to fall into.
"A lemur," he laughs and I giggle alongside with him, mentally deciding that he liked, wide-eyed, furry cute little creatures like a lemur.
"Cute things they are," I smile subtly and he smiles right back in a heartbeat, and it was stupid, insignificant things like this that made my heart swell with joy. I loved this. I love the feelings I have whilst I'm near him.
"My turn," he demands jokingly and I laugh a little, him being demanding was something that was way out of my imagination. I bet he's demanding in bed. I immediately flush, a deep, florescent red whilst struggling to cover my face with my hands, which failed in the sense that more attention was drawn towards my face.
Alex smirks, probably knowing what I was thinking about, and was probably going to torture me about it. Oh god; please can this not be a Kimberly and Richard session. Please. Doesn't the universe just love teasing me? "Summat's on your cheek, love," he winks, and a tingling sensation decides to take over my body from his simple, somewhat meaningless words.
My cheeks were probably flushing now, even more than before, if that was possible. I don't know why, but apparently people found blushing cute, which it wasn't. Appearance wise, I suppose so, but once you're the person who is blushing, that sucks. It's just so annoying to attract unnecessary attention.
"That's not a question," I attempt to say sternly, yet fail astoundingly. My voice was slightly shaky, obviously indicating that I was embarrassed and in a completely different world.
The smirk placed on Alex's lips only remains where it is, driving me absolutely mental. "Here we are," he says, completely neglecting what I just said. He grasps onto the knob for a second, before twisting it and letting me through first. Walking inside, I feel Alex's presence alongside me.
Pushing the embarrassing yet incredibly sexy thoughts aside, I walk forwards without hesitation and lie down on the single bed, my head facing sideways and my hands resting in between my thighs, whilst hearing the rhythm of Alex's shoes tapping against the tiles, coming towards me.
I just continued to think how surreal this was; how surreal it was to be lying down with Alex, spending time with him and learning about him. He was so special and no matter how many times he tried to explain why he spent time with me or why he liked me, I couldn't understand; it was impossible.
Before I know it, Alex is lying next to me and all my senses are going wild. I am unable to comprehend what is going on except for the fact that Alex is lying next to me, looking more breathtaking than ever.
His already pale face is looking smooth and silky with his brown eyes, which were much more any other old pair of brown eyes; his were mesmerising. They could linger in the back of your mind for boundless lifetimes. His chest is covered with a thin white dress shirt, which clings onto him ever so tightly. A navy blue tie is hung on to the shirt- "Save time and take a shot, love," his voice bringing me out of my little trance as I exhale slowly.
With his hand rested against his head, he speaks again. "When was the last time you ate?"
My mind begins to spin and a smile automatically leaves my face. The last time I had eaten was when Alex came over for the first time, which automatically made me sick, as I wasn't used to eating and I hated it. In remembrance, my stomach grumbled in hunger and I sigh. "When I fainted."
It was his turn to sigh. "Please eat something now," or "Why didn't you eat?" Was what I was expecting him to say, but he didn't say exactly that, he just moved on to the next question, probably knowing that it was completely pointless doing otherwise. "Last panic attack?"
I mentally go through the events in my day before remembering when my last panic attack was. "Before I came to your room."
Rubbing his forehead, Alex thinks about something for a little while. I mentally applaud him for not dramatising what was currently going on. "I- I know, that," his voice is shaky and nervous which really left me confused because of the fact that he was rarely ever this way and he couldn't be nervous over something incredibly insignificant such as myself.
"What is it, Al?" I try to answer soothingly in hopes of making him less nervous; it was completely unnecessary. Why was he nervous over me?
He sighs in relief, but still seemed to be a little nervous, even after my awful attempt to be soothing and helpful. "I guess, you got your answers and I didn't get mine."
I laugh a little. "Al, babe, you're asking the questions now."
Alex, to my surprise, was the one who was blushing now, probably at the fact that I had called him "babe," which was even a surprise for myself. I wasn't someone who called other people by pet names like Babe or love; that seemed to be Al's thing.
I exhale a little and loop our fingers together. "You know I was only taking the mick," I mention quietly whilst looking at him, wanting him to tell me what he was going to say. "What is it, Alex?" I say softly with a hint of worry.
"Do you like me?" He whispers back to me and my eyes widen in shock. Was this really his question? Why would he ask that? Hadn't I made it incredibly obvious already?
I rolled my eyes. "I've got a better question," I state and he looks slightly taken aback as I try my hardest not to laugh. "Would a kiss be too much to ask?" I ask and I think he lights up like billboards at night. He leans in slowly, managing to look at me the whole way, which made the experience even more heart thumping.
My heart was thumping like speakers during parties and my eyelashes fluttered uncontrollably, still taking in that Alex was going to kiss me.
It was a thought that persisted in my mind yet still was incredibly difficult to take in. It was impossible to be mentally prepared for Alex's kisses. I liked to think of it like the best part of a song. Where throughout the song the feelings are expressed, the music goes fast along with it, and then it slows down a little. An orgasmic instrumental is played, and it is too self explanatory to have a singer within it. I loved those parts of a song, and surprise, surprise; I loved Alex's kisses too.
After seemingly forever seconds and aching for Alex's lips passed, he finally did it. He placed his lips against mine and it was rough, but somehow very sweet. His lips tasted like faint vanilla mixed with mint which was exquisite. I guess my chapped lips were the main component of roughness through the kiss as he had smooth, soft lips, but at the end, I couldn't ask for a better kiss. With my slightly small sized hands intertwining with his slightly jelled black hair as he persisted to tug me closer with the help of my neck; I felt on fire, everything was melting away from me and it was like kissing Alex meant you could only think about him and nothing else.
Not only that, but we were continuously changing our positions, me obviously not being able to get enough of him. I could feel myself being so out of breath because of every small thing that he did, small things that normally go unnoticed. Not to me.
How one of his large hands rested and tugged on my neck yet the other slid down random parts of my pale skin, as it continuously tingled and drove me mad.
Unknowingly I collapse on top of Alex, feeling his rock hard abs and the rest of his body beneath me, especially a somewhat growing bulge that caused me to flush immensely.
In comfort, Alex happily wraps his arms around me coincidentally giving me warmth as well as I smile and nuzzle closely to his chest as I intertwined my legs with his as he rubs my back soothingly and at this moment I felt as though I wanted to cry. Perhaps things were finally going to be okay.
"You're pretty damn comfy," Alex mumbles, as he kisses my forehead sweetly and I laugh in response and he soon joins in with his beautifully harmonic laugh.
"It's a compliment you ungrateful bitch," he pouts and this causes me to roar in laughter, as I pinch his cute little nose.
He jokingly winces and takes hold of my small hand before kissing it like the romantic little fool he is. He held it like no one had before; like it was his, and nothing was more precious.
It was almost as though not smiling at Alex was a sin; if I didn't do it, I'd probably feel guilty and it would eat me alive. Not only that, but he was Alex. How could you not smile at him?
Even though we had shared quite a lengthy kissing session, I didn't want to end it at there. I wasn't going to put the pressure on him though; I was going to do it.
I lick my lips before placing them on Alex's soft, milky skin, remembering how he had given me a hickey the night I fainted. Smiling against his skin, I continue and suck slowly and softly at first, but with time I suck harshly making sure to twirl my tongue as Alex clenched his fists which only motivated me to do a better job as I made sure to keep eye contact constant between the two of us at this moment.
He couldn't be more incredible, could he?
As I pull away, a bright red mark is left on the middle of his neck and I smile to myself, knowing that I had made my mark on him. I leave a gentle kiss on another side of his neck before he smiled back at me.
"You are such a work of art, you are," I look over Alex over and over just to be sure of the fact he was a real person and he couldn't be any brighter than he was now, with his face lighting up and he couldn't be more adorable. How could he be so amazingly hot and sexy yet so fucking cute at the same time was the question that continued to linger in my mind.
"You're getting a little mixed up, babe," he says and taps my nose and it seemed to be a natural habit for me to smile in response. He sighs, and I'm unsure of why as he sits and I sit up along with him and he places his hand on my thigh. "Can I be your vaccum cleaner?"
"Yes Alex," I say sarcastically,"You can breathe my dust."
His eyes widen as he rapidly places both of his arms on me and gives me a little shake before running his hand through my blonde hair. "I want to be your setting lotion."
I smile before kissing his cheek. "Yes, Al. You can hold my hair with deep devotion, as deep as the atlantic ocean," I say and a smile takes place on his face. I pinch his sides."Now get the fuck out of here, you have a lesson, lover boy."