The surroundings seemed to slow down as silence filled the space. As my eyes half opened, the scene in front left me speechless. Dave was frozen in his position as his pan-sized eyes stared at me.
The disbelief was inevitable to ignore. Holy Jesus! What did I just do?
The next moment, our lips detached, but our faces were close enough to let our harsh breath crash, getting mixed. My hands were still on his chest, feeling the warmth seeping into my skin.
His eyes were fixated on me, which made it even harder to hide my embarrassment. Until now, I would have turned into a tomato.
Stupid Ele, if you don’t want to increase your embarrassment, get the hell out of here.
With this, I let my one leg step back as I whispered out, "It was a mistake."
As the words came out of my mouth, I tried to back track. Turning around, I almost got to the verge of running like my life depended on it when something pulled me back.
Hitting the hard yet warm surface, I hissed in pain. Caressing my nose, I looked up as I realized the hard surface on which I had crashed was Dave himself.
His eyes were turned to normal size. The darkness in them remained, and so does the confusion, but something has changed. With confusion, I saw a spark of anger in them.
His breaths were still rough, but not like before. His hands snaked my waist, leaving no space between us. Trying to divert my mind from the intense stare, I tried to recall when was the last time we got this close.
Before, he used to even avoid getting us spotted together in public. It took two months and three meetings with Grandpa to make him hold my hands in the family functions. The sign was clear as daylight, but like hopeless and idiotic romantic me ignored all of it.
Now, I wanted to just slap my old self to let myself fall so down. The embarrassment deepened, recalling some of the other moments. I felt almost disgusted with myself.
How can I even be near him after all of it happened?
The thought crushed all the feelings that started to blossom. I tried to pull myself from him, "Leave me." The voice came out like a mere whisper, but clear enough to let him hear, but he did not leave me.
Instead, his grip tightened as if letting air past between us would be a felony, making him go to jail. I did not want to look at him, so I tried again. This time, I gripped his hands, trying to loosen them up as I again pleaded, "Please let me go."
My tries kept failing, and his silence started to poke me like a needle. Taking a deep breath, I tried one last time as I looked at him straight into his eyes. "Why are you doing this?"
Wrong Question. And definitely wrong action.
My eyes started to burn as I fought with the tears to fall off when he finally ended his silence with one question, "Was it a mistake?"
The question made my eyes widen in shock.
What did he want me to say?
I again tried to get some space between us, but nothing worked when he again hissed at me, "Answer me. Kissing your husband is a mistake?"
My whole body shuddered at his accusing tone. How could he ask me that? How dare he?
He was the one who kept pushing me out of his life, and now he has the audacity to accuse me of walking away.
God, from what material did you create this besharam (shameless) person? anger started sear through my veins as I gritted out the words, "Trust me, you don’t want to know."
His eyes narrowed at me as his breath started to get hotter. The tension in the surroundings got so thick that even a knife could cut it like a piece of bread.
His jaws were clenched as he was refraining himself from doing anything but I was done with him and his act. Just talking to him made my emotions go on a roller coaster ride. And living with him for days, months, or even years would either make me crazy or him get crazier.
Though I don’t know if he could get crazier. I rolled my eyes at not having energy or the energy to continue the conversation.
"Get away from me." I used all my energy to push him, and I got a little success as his grip on me loosened a little. Not wasting another second, I walked back, but can a prey get away from its predator that easily?
Hardly. And that happens to me. Feeling his grip on my bun was the last mistake he would ever commit in his life. I turned to him to say some crap when a current ran through my spine, freezing my mind for God knows how long.
His hand softly tucked my hair, pulling me as his mouth devoured mine. I did not even come out of the trance until his hands untied my bun, letting my curls fall over my shoulder freely.
His lips were warm, insistent, moving with a rhythm that left me breathless.
He tasted faintly of chocolate and something darker — something I couldn’t name but already wanted more of.
His motions were swift yet smooth, igniting something inside of me. Something unknown yet addicting. My traitorous body started to get out of control, feeling his other hand on my back slowly moving down.
His fingertips left trails of flame on my skin. His touch felt possessive as if he wanted to remember every curve of mine. My hands, which were clenching his shirt, now started to explore every inch of his.
Just when I thought my hormones could not have another peak, he pulled me as he stared into my soul.
His voice came husky yet firm when he spoke out those words, "If you ever said this, " he pointed between us, "was ever a mistake. I would shut you every time . Understood?"