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"I definitely haven’t seen any video like that." It's not a lie. Although, I do have knowledge of the video she is speaking of. It brings my thoughts to the flushed look on her face after she fell apart on her fingers. I picture her with her legs spread open on the bed and her fingers rubbing relentlessly on her cunt. I have to focus to keep my cock from stirring in my pants.
She lets out a relieved laugh. "Want me to send it to you so you can join in on the laugh? Everyone else seems to be enjoying it."
I crouch down in front of her, and my gaze lands on her lips. "Seeing you with another man is of no interest to me." She gasps as I place two fingers under her chin, prompting her to lock eyes with me. "And I would never laugh at you. With you, yes, but never at you."
Her eyes flickdown to my lips, and I have to resist the urge to lean forward and press them to hers. For a moment, we are one wavelength traveling through time together. Each of us is entirely consumed by the presence of the other. It's like nothing I've ever experienced in my entire existence.
Before she can lean in further, I stand up and gesture to her blanket. "Do you mind if I sit with you? I don't know many people who enjoy spending time in the graveyard. I would love to know more about you."
A soft smile spreads across her lips. "I think I would like that." Her cheeks flush the slightest shade of pink, and I find myself wanting to make her feel like this more often. The color looks so contradictory on her porcelain skin. She moves over and allows me to take residence next to her.
It's odd being so close to her. The desire to make her mine is stronger than ever. I can sense the way she dissects and analyzes my every move. She is just as curious about me as I am about her.
We spend the next few hours talking to one another, and I am transfixed by everything she tells me. Even after watching her from a distance for so long, there is so much I don’t know.
Her favorite food is pizza, and her favorite candy is Werther’s Originals. She loves the color purple, especially purple tulips, but she has only received flowers a few times in her life. I'll have to rectify that.
While I love knowing these things about her, I want her to know that I wish to know the true her, not just surface-levelthings about her. It's getting close to sunset, and our time together is running out. I take a calculated risk and point to the scars on her wrist.
"When did you start?" I ask, not leaving it up for interpretation as to what I'm talking about. Her eyes glint with vulnerability, and she squeezes the ball she was tossing earlier. At a closer glance, it has a galaxy pattern to it.
"I was twelve the first time." She averts her gaze as if she is ashamed to admit this to me.
I reach out and grip her chin, pulling her eyes back to me. "You don't have to be ashamed of who you are, Lena."
Softness flashes across her face, but as quickly as it appears, it disappears. "You don't know anything about who I am."
"Tell me, then. I want to know everything about you. I can't explain it, but I have a need to know you." I inch my face forward. All I want right now is to press my lips against hers in an attempt to dissipate every ounce of stubbornness from her soul. She's not normally like this. "I know you feel the same pull I do. You wouldn't have let me sit here with you for the last several hours if you didn't. There's something here connecting us. I don't understand it any more than you do."
My hand slides along her face, and I rest it at the base of her neck near her collarbone. I lean in further and lightly brush my lips against hers, feeling the way her pulse quickens under my fingertips. Her eyes lock on mine, and she leans in the rest of the way to press her lips against mine.
If I coulddie, I think I would right now. Tasting her is far beyond anything I could have ever imagined. Life fills every fiber of my being, lighting me up and causing a high I've never felt before. I need more of her.
My hand slips around the back of her neck, and I pull her closer to deepen the kiss. Her tongue dances with mine as we lose ourselves in one another. She nips at my bottom lip, and I bring my other hand up to rest it on her cheek, savoring her.
She moves toward me, throwing one leg over my lap and straddling me. I almost lose the ability to breathe. Having her on me like this is enough for me to forget who I am entirely. I've forgotten that I'm not supposed to be involving myself in human lives, but talking to her changed everything. She is my only purpose. I was made for her, and she was made for me.
I tangle my fingers in her black hair and pull her lips off mine so I can lean in and kiss up the length of her neck. She groans in response, grinding her pussy on my erect cock. I long to be inside her. I pepper her neck with kisses, relishing in how her skin seems to taste like everything I never knew I was missing out on.
"Is this what you want?" she whispers in my ear, and that question forces me to withdraw from her.
Yes, I want her more than anything, but not like this. I want every piece of her and having her like this right now would only make her think I was after her body, not her mind and soul. She stares at me with curiosity, and I run my knuckles along her cheek reassuringly.
"Would you tell me about them?" I lightly tap on her wrist, avoiding the new cuts.
Her eyes bounce back and forth between mine as if she’s trying to make sure I am really asking about her and not just trying to find a way to trick her. Ultimately, she nods. She goes to slip off of my lap, but I grip her hips, holding her in place. I'm not ready to stop feeling her body pressed against mine.
She gulps and brings her left arm up to the side of us. We both glance over at it. "I was twelve, and my grandma just died. She was my entire world. My parents weren't exactly the most loving people to grow up with. My mother was always more concerned with outward appearances, and my father just never cared. I spent a lot of time with my grandma. She was warm, loving, and the only place I was ever able to find true happiness."
She trails off, lowering her gaze as though it pains her to talk about it. I wait for her to find the strength she needs to continue, not moving a single portion of my body. I am invested in finding out about this part of her. I'm not going to run when things feel tense or uncomfortable. She will learn that. Finally, she looks back over at her wrist again.
"It was after my grandma's funeral. I tried to talk to my mom, but she didn't care. Her own mother died, and she acted like nothing happened. It was the first time I felt truly alone. I spent all my time with my grandma and only had one other friend, Dani, whom I wasn’t extremely close to at the time. My mom forced me to go to my grandma’s house and sort through some of her things after I told her I didn’t want to be there. It wastoo hard. I was in her bathroom, and I happened to look over to see a razor blade sitting on the sink. I stared at them for a while, wondering what it would feel like to die so that I could be with her."
She chokes on her words, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "It's okay. I'm here," I say reassuringly.
"I had nobody. My mom always made me feel like a burden. It was the first time I thought I might be better off dead than alive. I grabbed the razor blade and thought maybe if I hurt myself, I could feel something other than the pain of her death, so I did. I slid it against my wrist so lightly that it barely broke the surface and then dropped the blade in the sink. I stared at the cut for a while and realized I liked the release it gave me."
I can tell that was hard for her to admit. It's almost as though this is the first time she is talking out loud about how she feels about it. "There's nothing wrong with the way you felt, Lena."
