Poison

“Happy Saturday,” she said, and I smirked right back.

“Happy Saturday indeed.”

It would have been tempting to bundle her back upstairs for another round on that sweet pussy of hers, but I didn’t want the weekend to be all about the flesh. I wanted smiles and chat and laughter. I wanted her at full natural radiance as we enjoyed much more than the filth.

“What do you want to do today?” she asked, reading my mind.

I leant back against the side and took a sip of tea, running through the options.

“I’m easy. Tennis? Meal out? Vintage movie day?”

She looked past me through the window at the glow of the morning countryside and gave me a fresh smile.

“Show me this place. It looks amazing.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You want to check out this majesty of an abode?”

She nodded. “I want to go exploring. I haven’t been out of the city properly in ages. Sebastian didn’t really like it that much out of town.”

It felt strange to hear his name in such a natural tone. Everything about her life outside of mine felt strange.

“We can go exploring,” I told her, then remembered her clothes from the night previous. Her heels, specifically. “You might want to stick to village exploring though. Anywhere off road is going to be muddy.”

She tipped her head, eyes mischievous. “I can handle a bit of mud, Lucas. Don’t worry. I’m not that much of a city chick.”

I laughed. “This is more than a bit of mud, Anna. It’ll be a swampland.”

But still her eyes were mischievous. “Show me.”

I wasn’t going to argue with her.

“Fine. Let’s get to it. Breakfast first.”

She took her meds as I put the toast on and got to work, and I was still naked as I served up eggs and bacon at the kitchen table. We had a dog staring up at each of us as we munched away, but we were mainly staring at each other, smirks and giggles and the afterglow of a good hard fuck and a night in each other’s arms.

I’d lost sight of that priceless spark that feels so good between two people who truly want each other. Flutters and soaring smiles and toes touching under the table. We had it all.

I’d forgotten how it felt to have someone truly listening to your voice, without judgement. I’d forgotten how it felt to talk freely without that frost of nerves, worrying how every word you speak is going to be fired back at you with spite.

I’d forgotten a lot of things.

We talked about work, and our distantly connected social group, and snippets of good in our time together. Painting orc figures and repotting aloe vera and the crazy time we trekked around all-night emergency dentists when she bust a tooth on toffee.

We talked about everything but what I’d done to her. It was aching in my ribs, the desperation to slam it out there on the table and tell the bitter truth and beg forgiveness, but I daren’t. Not with her smile so sweet and her message so clear.

She didn’t want to know.

Maybe she never would.

She cleared the plates before I could protest, finding the dishwasher and loading it up. She downed the rest of her juice and gathered her blouse from the counter top, where the slices of mushrooms were still scattered.

“Maybe you can try thick socks and some of my boots,” I suggested, but she laughed at me.

“I’ll wipe my heels down from a bit of mud, Lucas. I’m sure they’ll survive.”

I wasn’t, and I told her so, but she was giggling determined.

“It’ll be my mission,” she said. “To navigate the swamplands in my work shoes.”

“Whatever you want,” I responded. “You can have one of my coats, at least.”

We got ready upstairs, standing in harmony at the bathroom sink. She used my toothbrush after me and bundled her hair up in a band from her handbag. I found her a warm sweater that swallowed her up and she looked thoroughly swamped in my coat. And it was cute. So fucking cute it warmed me right through.

I whistled the dogs from their room and they bounded on ahead and out into the truck. Anna’s heels were ridiculous, but I couldn’t tell her all over again, so kept my mouth shut.

“I’ve left my phone in the house,” she told me when I’d pulled out of the drive. “I sent a load of messages, but I don’t want to hear anything back from the world today.”

“Ditto,” I said. “Mine’s on silent.”

I parked up at the pull in at the start of the hillside track and it was already muddy as we set off. The dogs bounded off into the distance and I stepped on firm, but Anna was already a picture, taking such neat little steps around the puddles that the grin burnt my cheeks.