Sweet Dandelion
The dark and quiet have no labels. They judge no one.
Within the darkness you can hide a multitude of sins. The problem is when the light comes again.
Leaning back against the couch cushions, I angle my head toward him.
He does the same, the two of us blinking at each other.
I jolt in surprise when he cups my cheek in his right hand.
Lachlan is touching me. Willingly touching me. I nearly hold my breath, but force a soft breath from between my lips.
“Why do I have to be so torn up over you?” he murmurs, his eyes raking over my face. Shadows dance over his handsome face from the flickering candles. “You,” his thumb brushes over my lips, “a student. You’re turning me into the worst kind of person, desiring something that isn’t mine for the taking.”
My heart stutters offbeat.
His fingers dip into my hair, lowering to the nape of my neck.
I place my hand over his, not wanting him to let go. I’m so afraid he’s suddenly going to snap to his senses, put distance between us, and I need to soak up every second of this.
His eyes lower, his long, thick, black lashes fanning against his cheeks.
“W-What if you didn’t have to take me?” I whisper the words, scared to give them voice. “What if I’m offering myself to you?”
“Dani…” He shakes his head back and forth.
I take his face between my hands, his stubble rasping against my palms. Rising up on my knees, I scoot forward. There’s only a shadow of space between us. “How can you take something I want to give?”
His tongue slides out, moistening his lips. Those vibrant blue eyes of his are nearly navy in the dark with a hint of gold from the candlelight.
“It’s wrong.”
“It doesn’t feel wrong,” I argue, my forehead pressed gently to his. Our breaths mingle in the air, sharing space like our thoughts and feelings. His eyes close again, his hands opening and closing into fists on his thighs. “You can touch me.” My lips brush his cheek. “I’ll let you. I won’t mind at all.”
I want to climb in his lap, press my body against his. I want to feel all my soft curves melt into his hard planes. I want to feel his lips on mine.
But he needs to m
ake the move this time. This can’t be one-sided. It’s not fair. I don’t want to feel like I’m pushing myself on someone who doesn’t want me back, even when everything says he does.
The muscle in his jaw ticks, his eyes at war, fighting a battle I can’t even begin to understand.
His dark hair tickles my forehead as he moves. “I can’t do this. Why do I keep letting you in?”
I don’t think he’s talking about into his apartment.
We’re so close together now, barely a breath separating us. I desperately want him to touch me, but I know I can’t force this. If I do it’ll only push him away.
I know why he hesitates, it’s what keeps me from claiming what I want. I might be young, but it doesn’t mean I don’t understand the ramifications for the two of us if we’re found out. But it also feels like the greatest crime of all to deny our feelings. Something that feels this right should never be wrong.
But it is.
We are.
And to admit what we want, to give in, is to change the trajectory of both our lives.
His eyes close once more, murmuring my name.
In a blink his hands are on my hips.