Chereads / The Third Sunday of June / Chapter 6 - Haru

Chapter 6 - Haru

Disclaimer: Brief Smut

HARU

When I wake up the next morning with a warm body in bed with me, I have to remind myself of the previous night's events. Amazing sex, some personal questions and a very deep, comfortable sleep.

It's been a long time since I've slept that well and relented from getting up in the middle of the night. I've grown accustomed to Kai rolling out of bed and toddling over to my room at stupid hours of the morning, or me waking up just to peak into his room and make sure he's snoozing peacefully. My son has a habit of sleeping restlessly, complaining about nightmares to do with some cartoon character or whatever whenever he crawls into my bed.

I gaze down at the woman wrapped tightly in my hold, so striking and wonderful looking. With care not to wake her up, I unravel my arms from her slight shoulders, slipping out of bed and heading for the bathroom. I hop in the shower, brush my teeth and go to the loo, trudging out again with a towel wrapped securely around my waist.

Sedah is still sleeping, quiet but fast breaths passing her lips every second. She's changed positions in the minutes I've been gone, instead of cuddling my torso she's substituted it for my pillow. I'd let her have two last night, even though her head remained on my chest all night. My neck now feels stiff from just the one pillow.

Smiling softly, I click my bedroom door open and pad down the hallway to grab my laptop, only to walk straight back to bed. My towel falls from around my narrow waist before I shuffle back into its warmth, leaning against the headboard with my laptop on top of the covers.

As I switch it on, a slender, pale arm curls around my front, idly. Sedah seems to seek me out even in slumber, how cute.

I have to keep reminding myself that this little bubble we've entrapped ourselves in is going to pop within the next few hours. I realise it isn't particularly healthy to act like this: like we've known each other for eons, so comfortable in the other's arms. Not when we'll never see each other again.

But any temporary affection I can treasure, I will. Even if it's just for a night.

I have a hate-filled dynamic with myself. I hate the person I become when Kai isn't around. I mould into a man that's terrified of commitment so instead survives off scraps of physical contact, too afraid to stick around for the long haul. I inhale drugs whenever a bag or joint is waved in front of my face. I tend to work myself to the bone when I get into it, and when I experience writer's block I grow irritable and angry. To top it all off, on the rare occasion I do have anything to do with a woman or man on a remotely sexual level, I treat them like a long-term lover for a night and then cast them aside when they get too comfortable.

What a terrible human I've become, selfish and cruel if my son isn't involved. If it ever came to it, I'd fight tooth and nail to keep him safe and I'll forever shower him with all my love, but I just don't have the capacity to open up my heart to anyone else.

Whilst my mind berates me for all my negative traits, a low hum sounds from next to my hipbone. A set of lips ghosts above the skin there, stilling my typing fingers on the keyboard.

"Mm, 'Ru?"

"Mornin'." I mumble, ignoring the strange effect her early morning voice is having on me. So low and sexy.

"Hey." Sedah's eyes remain closed, though her eyelids flutter they never open. I realise I want to see the green of her irises a little too much, and push the feeling away.

Sedah might be the most beautiful woman I've ever met, with sex appeal and what appears to be a personality with great depth, but she's still only a one night stand.

I'm beginning to regret taking her home with me, because one night stands aren't supposed to make you feel queasy with anticipation and awe. But she does, Sedah does.

"Time?" The girl grumbles, burrowing her face further into my hip. Her arm brushes my semi-erect cock under the covers when she adjusts it around my waist. It's... Difficult to ignore.

My eyes scan the bottom-right corner of my laptop, "8:20."

"In the morning?" She deadpans, stifling a yawn, "Why're you even up?"

"I'm working, love." I write best when the hours are early and my mind is fresh.

"Can I— go back to sleep for a while then?" Sedah asks, a hint of hesitation in her voice. I'm glad to see I'm not the only one experiencing some difficulties here.

I should just say no. I should kick her out of my apartment here and now actually. I should push her arm away from my waist and tell her she's overstayed her welcome already.

"Of course." I bend down to plant a kiss on her forehead, "Stay wrapped around me, though. You're warm."

Stupid. Stupid, idiotic, selfish man. Stringing her along for even longer isn't a good idea.

But how can I say it's time for her to go? I was the one who suggested she should stay over, for fuck's sake. And I... Quite like seeing her face squishing into the top side of my thigh.

I notice how her hair looks the exact same as it did yesterday, hardly a strand out of place in her shoulder-length bob. Her soft, steady breaths are calming, too.

"Thank you." She murmurs half-heartedly.

"Can I open the blinds, though?" I ask, as if I need permission to do that in my own home.

Instead of answering with words, Sedah squeezes my waist tighter. She has a habit of doing that, I realise. She'd done it back at Lady Ophelia's, only with our hands that time.

Assuming that her silent action is a positive confirmation, I grab the remote and watch as the blinds lifted from the floor and expose the window wall. It's a beautiful day. A beautiful morning, actually.

And not just because of the weather.

"You want pancakes, Sedah?!"

"Are you making them?!"

"Yeah!"

"Then sure!" She shouts from my shower, I can hear her loud and clear from the kitchen. I'm stood at the stove with a tea towel thrown over my shoulder, tartan pyjama bottoms are hanging low on my hips and I'm topless.

What. The. Fuck, am I doing?

Flipping pancakes for the girl I fucked on a whim? It's nearly midday, she should've left hours ago.

"What do you want on them?!" I call back, hearing the running water. There's a distant smile on my face that needs to be wiped off.

"... Syrup!" She replies after a second's contemplation.

I nod to myself, muttering, "Good choice."

That's what Kai always asks for, too.

I plate up a stack of pancakes, turn the stove off and leave them on the kitchen island. Sedah can decide how much syrup she wants, I don't know how long she'll be and I don't want to make them soggy.

Instead of waiting for her to come out, I slide down the corridor and into my room. My bathroom door is wide open, steam billowing out of it and clouding the ceiling.

"Sedah?" I pop my head in, eyeing her naked body in the shower. It's distorted by all the condensation on the glass.

"Yes, love?" Her hand wipes at the glass wall, her face smiling through the clear patch she's created, "You come to join me?"

No? Absolutely not. How ridiculous.

"If I'm invited in." I've come to the steady conclusion that my brain and mouth have been disconnected, because I'm spewing pure word vomit. I think one thing; say another.

"C'mere." She bites down on her full bottom lip.

I step into the humidity, tugging my pyjama bottoms down and off. I've already showered, but you can never be too clean, right?

My shower is large, with three walls (one of them glass, the others tiled) and where the fourth is supposed to be, is nothing.

"Give me a kiss, and you can come in." She taunts, running both hands through her hair and washing the suds off her breasts.

"And when I come in?" I smirk, crossing my arms along my chest.

Sedah's eyes light up with mischief, "Then you can touch me where you want, how you want."

"Sounds good." I lean forwards, planting a kiss on her lips that quickly becomes as heated as the water pouring over us when we stumble back into a wall.

My hands become exploratory, already wired to know what makes Sedah tick. What makes her wet and what makes her tremble.

Her back arches off the wall, one of my hands splays against it next to her head as the other one slides in between her legs, "You're already so wet down here."

"We're in a shower." She teases.

"No," I know the difference, "you're just turned on."

"And you're already hard." She fires straight back.

"How can I not be, sweetheart?" My middle finger slips into her, coaxing moans from the woman's mouth that do little to aid the situation in between my legs.

Sedah's green doe eyes look up at me, I have to suppress a groan. Her face is so beautiful, expression so erotic and jaw lax as I circle her clit, too.

How can I not be when you look at me like that?

"These taste so good." Sedah hums, scoffing down her second pancake.

"You like?"

"I like." She nods, "I didn't think you'd be able to cook."

"I have a kid." I deadpan.

Sedah shrugs, "Not all parents can cook."

"Well, this one can. My son isn't living off takeaways and fast food on my watch." I roll my eyes, adding extra Nutella to my food.

"Just carrot sticks and pancakes, right?"

"Ha-ha." I squint, "He isn't a picky eater, so he'll eat most things I put on his plate. But I like cooking him nice food because his mum just gives him crap."

"Maybe you could cook for me sometime, too." Sedah says in passing, a gentle smile on her lips.

"... Maybe." I push my tongue against the inside of my cheek, quickly coming to my senses. No. More. Word. Vomit. This has to stop, I need to break out of the hold Sedah has over me, "Maybe that's— not a good idea."

"Hm?" Sedah pops her head up, looking at me with a cute expression of puzzlement. She's suddenly everything sweet and innocent and adorable. Her wet hair has dried, back to its usual glossiness. She's beautiful.

"Me cooking for you. Or seeing you again after you leave."

"Oh." Sedah's expression doesn't give much away, she seems like quite a tough cookie so I'm not worried I've upset her, "Perhaps it was just me then."

"Just you?" I question, clearing our plates away.

"Yeah, that thought maybe we'd see each other again."

I nervously chuckle, "Aren't one night stands supposed to stay that way?"

The woman shrugs, "I don't think there's a rule book, unless you just don't want to see me again."

She isn't being discreet, or playing those mind games I've experienced from others so many times before. Sedah is an open book, though some pages simply aren't accessible. She seems to be the type of woman that only shows what she wants you to see.

I swallow, shaking my head before I say something stupid that will give her false hope, "Um, no, sorry. You're a lovely girl, but I'm just—"

"You don't need to elaborate with a reason, Haru." Sedah sighs, "You either do, or you don't. And it's fine that you don't."

"It is..?" I'm uncertain, not used to such a placid reaction. In my experience, many women would feel led on and lied to. Actually, I've been slapped for doing much less.

"Yeah." I can tell she isn't thrilled, probably not used to rejection with her looks. It isn't that I don't find her desirable in almost every way. I just can't.

"I'm a bit messed up." I sigh, loading the plates and cutlery into my dishwasher, "I'd only end up hurting you."

She nods, "That's fair. No one likes getting hurt." After that, she pushes away from the table and grabs her belongings. Sedah is currently dressed in a plain white t-shirt of mine and nothing else. She slips her heels back on, wraps the long coat around her and ties it, then picks up her handbag.

"You off?" I brace my elbows on the marble island.

"I'm off." Sedah thins her lips, walking to the door. I follow, a heavy feeling settles in my chest, "This was fun."

"It was... Very fun." I sigh, wishing I could carry her back to bed and keep her there.

"I'll give your t-shirt to Sandra, she'll see one of your friends before I do." Sedah nods to herself, stepping over my door's threshold.

"Yeah." I agree, lacing my hand with hers and pecking her cheek. I don't know why, but the sight of her leaving is one that brings me great discomfort. I hardly even know the woman, for crying out loud.

Sedah smiles, squeezing my hand: a goodbye.

I squeeze back, tight and, for a moment, indefatigably.

Then I watch her walk down the corridor, press the elevator's button, and leave.

Sedah Finch has left a lasting impression on me. I fight off the urge to hop into the lift with her, but I relent and let her slip through my fingers.