"Why did you bring me here?"
My eyes were narrowed at the scene before me, gaze shifting from here to there, trying to see one thing that would seem pulling enough to have a person coming out here.
The environment was empty, still. It was as quiet as a graveyard.
Let me clarify that—It was a graveyard.
We had left the grounds of Maple Valley half an hour ago, riding all the way out just to arrive at a graveyard.
Or perhaps the speed Logan had ridden with, had left me dead. I swear, I could feel my body numb while I was atop that bike, and to worsen things, I was in a skirt.
Tell me how I am to save myself if the bike goes tumbling, and I am in a skirt.
"This is my healing space"
That voice brushed past my ears, figure coming to stand next to mine, with those eyes of his fixed onwards.
"Ashton was laid to rest here" His words were low.
He had taken my hands in a moment, pulling me through the row of graves, leading me onwards.
"Your healing space?"
He stopped in his tracks, turning around to face me.
"No one gets to label me as being unruly whenever I'm out here"
"It's just me, and the calm" He called.
"Don't you think it's disturbing?" I followed at once.
"Nothing is ever disturbing about peace, Cara"
That utterance of his came in.
He soon turned to the tombstone stood few feet away from us, eyes fixated on it.
"That's Ashton's" He called. "Always had a knack for the color brown, we had to get him a tombstone in one"
In all, I don't think the pain of a person's death whom I knew not had struck me hard like this. I could see the agony in those eyes before me, yet he tried so well veiling it.
Veiling the ache that was out there.
"I'm sorry, Logan"
"Don't be" He followed immediately. "I didn't bring you here to get emotional"
"I brought you here so you'd have a peek to little of what my life is"
He pulled me away from the grave at once, leading me to an abandoned cottage at a far end.
That building scared me.
With roof looking like it would come down any moment, and a large door that be taken off it hinges by just a push. Still, I found myself walking through, hands held in Logan's while he led me to this place I never thought I'd myself in.
"This is where I come to clear my mind" He stated in an inaudible voice, with scrutiny scanning the area, I caught the beam in those eyes.
"You come here to clear your mind?" I let out at once, voice laced with pure confusion, sheer terror.
"Exciting right?" He followed, gaze soon rushing with glee.
"Nothing about coming into a graveyard, more so, the home of a graveyard keeper is exciting, Logan" I stated.
The amusement filled my eyes, beholding that warmth that rushed to the face of the young man away. I had never seen him filled with such life, while his gaze made sure to linger in mine.
"He rarely comes around anyway" He followed.
"Tim is a Seventy two year old man, who's been assigned to keep watch over dead people. You don't think that would bore him much?"
"All I'm saying is we're intruding" I followed in a low voice.
"He's caught me here a few times" He began, moving to grab the clay pot hung on the wall.
"And all he does is yell, checks the environment, and leaves"
"He even offered me food one time. Surprising much" He revealed.
"And you accepted it?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Doesn't the fact that you're at a graveyard scare you, Logan?" I called at once, matching that calming gaze of his.
"A dead man carries no emotions, Cara" He followed.
"Okay, can you put a halt to those parables of yours" The scoff left my lips.
"But I speak the truth" He called at once.
"You saying you bear no emotions leaves me worried" I let out, turning away from him.
I felt the silence that poured in at the break of my words, eyes shifting through every corner of the room.
It seemed untidied, yet there was not one thing to be found out of place. There followed the lasting silence, and in a moment, I felt that figure behind me, hands snaking through my waist from behind.
The smile crept up my lips, at the hold of his body against mine, and breaths so low, they poured into my ears.
"Do you want me to feel something?" He called in a low voice, turning me to face him.
"Everyone feels something, Logan" I began.
"No matter how dead they are"
His eyes rested in mine, gaze warm, beholding such delight
"I want to feel, Cara"
"Haven't you already?"
"Perhaps, I have" He called "but too broken to accept it"
"What breaks you?" I followed.
"You?"
"You've broken and moulded me"
"I don't think I moulded you, Logan" The scoff emitted from my lips, eyes matching his. "If anything, I believe I'm leaving you destroyed, which is...….Sad"
"Well I like being left destroyed" He called in a low breath.
"It strengthens me"
With that he had crashed his lips onto mine, hands lifting me off the floor. It didn't take long for chest to go burning with heat, hands wrapped around his neck.
He carried me onto the worn-out couch sat at a corner, eyes filled with much excitement that caused mine rushing with glee.
Snatching the shirt worn on his body, off at once, he drew to me, fingers tugging off my blouse.
His lips familiarized itself with my skin, hands roaming every part of my body. I could feel those warm fingers of his, parting my thighs slowly, and in a second, he had pushed his face in, lips doing so well to tease. The pressure and fiction of his member inside of me, elevated that delight I never knew I carried.
In a moment, he had lifted my legs to his shoulders, form laying back on the couch, my eyes met his, while his thrusts went even harder.
Body jived with his, hands intertwined with the ones belonging to him, the sound of my breaths, broke the silence this graveyard was known to carry.
It was an isolated area. The sound of my moans drifting into the air, sure wouldn't be heard from miles away, yet I tried so hard suppressing those heavy breaths of mine, while that form laid atop me, lighting my entirety with much pleasure.
He had snatched me off the couch with so much ease, pulling me to the wall in a second, hands never letting go of my figure.
Back having turned to him, he pulled my palms flat onto the rough surface of that wall, and with softer thrusts, he came in from behind.
His lips found their way to my neck, hands fondling my breasts while those thrusts got even harder.
I felt my hips widening at his hold, while he penetrated in easier, the sound of my gasps poured out at every thrust he gave.
"I want you to be mine"
I was too immersed to grasp onto those words which poured out his lips, but I managed to catch the faint sound.
"What?" My voice wavered, hands clutching onto his while he pushed even deeper.
"Be mine"
Those words were low, that breath of his heavy, while the sound of my moans drowned that utterance, but I swear I caught onto those words so well.
They were made to linger with me.