Stay Close (For You 1)

I press my hands to the cool glass and whisper the only name she should ever be called. Krasotu. As if she hears me, she turns her head, and her eyes search for me. She can’t possibly see me in the dark, but in my heart I hope that’s what she’s doing.

After a moment she turns away, and I ache for her eyes to be on me again. I want to fall to my knees and beg her to look at me for all eternity. I shouldn’t want her, I shouldn’t feel pain in my chest at the mere thought of her. But I am uncontrolled when it comes to her, and I can’t stop myself.

I turn and go to my room, grabbing a T-shirt and a pair of loose shorts on the way. The cotton clings to my body as it soaks up the sweat, but I don’t have time to stop and think about it. I hurry, thinking that if she is a dream, any moment she’ll disappear into the night and I’ll be left with a hole in my chest, a space only she can fill.

By the time I make it outside, my feet are wet from the damp grass. It’s then I notice I forgot to put shoes on. I don’t bother to go back and get them as I walk around to the fountain, anxious to see if she’s still there.

Like a wish from a dream, she’s in the same place. The soft light across her body only highlights her beauty.

“It’s late,” I say, breaking the quiet of the night.

She gasps and turns around, as if shocked to see me standing here. “What are you doing here?”

Her words are not cruel, but they still cut me. Does she not wish for me to be near her? Maybe coming outside to join her was a mistake, even though all of my instincts demanded I go to her.

“Sorry,” she says, shaking her head. As if she knows what I’m thinking, she smooths over her words. “I mean, how are you here? You look like you got out of bed. But you’re sweaty.”

Her eyes roam down my shirt and then to my feet. Her slow perusal of me makes me want to flex my chest to impress her, like some lion in the wild preening for his mate. I want her to feel desire when she sees me.

I can see the barest hint of a blush as her gaze lingers on me, then she lifts her eyes to meet mine.

I take a few steps closer and walk over to the fountain and sit on the edge with her. Not close enough to touch but close enough that my chest isn’t hurting.

“Your parents insisted I stay in the guest house. At least until the end of your school year.”

“Oh.” She turns her head to look in the direction of the house. She stares at the exact spot where I was standing before, and I see her eyes narrow. She looks back to me, but she doesn’t say anything further.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” I ask, and I see a small smile pull at her lips.

“I couldn’t.” She shrugs. “I had a lot on my mind.” Before I can ask her what, she turns the question to me. “Why are you awake so late? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I don’t sleep much.” I reach out, running my fingers through the cool water of the fountain. “I was working out and I saw you.”

When I look at her again, I see her lick her bottom lip and bite it before nodding. The pain is back, but this time it’s lower than my chest. Much lower.

“You didn’t send me a picture.” Her playful smile makes my blood race, and I want to give her a thousand pictures, anything to keep that look on her face. “Maybe I should take one now.”

“It’s too dark,” I say, looking around, trying to find a way to control my body.

I see her phone beside her and watch as she picks it up and points it at me. I don’t look at the camera, though. I only look at her. Her long red hair over one shoulder, the edge of her jaw and high cheekbones. She’s more beautiful than any painting I’ve ever seen, and I could stare at her for eternity.

“There. Now I can add your face on my contacts. I hate not having a picture to go on the little bubble.”

“Bubble?” I ask, confused by her statement.

“Yeah, here.”

She scoots over right next to me, the side of her body pressed firmly to mine. If I were to wrap my arm around her, she would be enveloped in me, blanketed in my scent. Something primal inside my soul wishes for this, wants to rub my body against hers in a way that marks her as mine. I have to close my eyes tightly to collect myself.