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Complicated

Page 24

by Ashley Love


  He presses his mouth to mine, his pace quickening. The pleasure that rips through me is like nothing I've ever felt before, his body filling me completely and I whimper as my stomach begins to tighten because I don't want it to be over. My hands paw at his back and I'm trying to push it down and away because I don't want it to end. But he's pressing into that spot inside me and my entire body trembles and I need it.

  "Harry," I whimper, my nails clawing at his skin, my heels digging into his lower back and I'm so close. "Harry...oh god..."

  He's panting hard, his hips rocking against mine gently and he bites his lip before opening his eyes and staring down at me. And he's vulnerable and powerful all at the same time and I can't look away. He nuzzles his nose with mine before kissing me slowly and my entire body convulses, my legs locking around him, nails scraping down his sides as I cry out his name, sobbing from the pleasure and the closeness, holding onto him for dear life.

  He crushes his forehead to mine, his mouth opening, breath panting against my lips as his eyes squeeze shut. I curl my arms between us, reaching up to hold his face in my hands and he's whimpering and whining as he pushes into me over and over again. I curl my hand around the back of his head, my other arm wrapping under his to grip his back as I pull his face to mine, kissing him deeply. His hips jerk hard one last time and his mouth opens against mine in a gasp as he coats me deep inside, his body trembling and quaking, and I hold him close to me, hoping to give him some of the comfort he gives me.

  His body relaxes against mine and I hold him close because it's all I can do. I have to hold onto him now because in a less than four hours the only thing I'm going to be able to hold onto is this memory. It's not enough, but it's all I'm going to have.

  He lifts up on his arms and kisses me slowly, his lips warm and soft, his tongue slick and strong as it surges into my mouth and in minutes we're groping and rocking against each other again and we can't stop. We both know this is the end and we want to spend every last second we can together. Declarations of love whispered against bare flesh until they don't even sound like words, his mouth on my body, my lips wrapped around his, this is what we have and what we're trying to keep from forgetting. He moves inside me, propped up on locked arms and I call to him over and over and when he's so exhausted that his arms can't hold him up anymore, I grip his hips with my knees and ride him, watching him grin tiredly up at me.

  But neither of us will tell the other to stop. Neither of us wants it to end. I rock against him, our hands everywhere, dipping down to taste his skin, sure its burned in my memory but one more kiss just to make sure, nails scraping against flesh, fingertips digging into hips, pleasure coursing through our veins over and over until finally neither of us can move and we lay there in the quiet, watching daylight creep up the walls.

  The clock on the bedside table reads a quarter after six and I should be getting up. I should be showering and getting ready for my flight. Instead I just close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat, pressing my body harder against his and the arm around my shoulders tightens. I should be dozing, bleary eyed and exhausted but I'm wide awake, paralyzed by fear.

  Fear of leaving, fear of losing. I've spent the entire summer pushing him away, telling him no, wishing he would just not be here. And now, when I'm hours away from having him not be there, I'm wishing I could have all those moments back. Every time I told him no, every time I told him stop, I wish I could go back and tell him yes, tell him don't ever stop. All those times he told me he loved me and I just looked away, I wish I could go back and throw my arms around him and tell him I loved him too, over and over and over again until he was sick of hearing it. I wish I could take it all back and start all over. I wish I was better. I wish I was stronger. I wish I was someone who deserved to be loved unconditionally by him.

  That's the hardest part, I think, my palm opening to press against his chest and then curling in a fist as the tears come, the regret. The regret that I had all this time and I wasted it playing stupid games and trying to pretend he wasn't exactly what I needed. I don't want to leave. I want to stay and hold onto him forever. Why is it always too late when you realize that the one thing you need you've had all along? Why does it take losing something to realize how much it means to you?

  Tears leak out of my eyes and slide down onto his chest and he shifts beneath me, his hand coming to grip my fist that's pushing against his chest. The arm that's around my shoulder shifts so that he can skim his palm up and down my bicep, trying to comfort me, but he can't. Nothing can comfort me because I can't take back what I've done. I can't go back and treat him the way I should have, love him the way he deserved and in an hour I'll never see him again. Well, I'll see him; on television and in magazines. I don't know what's worse; the thought of never seeing him again or seeing him everywhere, a constant reminder that he isn't with me.

  It seems so impossible, to be laying here with him now and think I won't be with him tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. He's so much a part of me. I can't fathom leaving him. I can't fathom waking up without him. Every time I try this pain lodges itself in my chest and it's unbearable and I can't fucking take it. My body begins to shake as the tears come harder and harder and he squeezes me tight, begging me silently to stop.

  "Shhh, baby, it's okay," he whispers, his voice weak and tired and I can't stand it. I can't do it.

  "I can't leave you," I sob and I feel his body tense beneath me as he tries to sit up a little but with the way my body is laying over him he can only lift his head.

  "Scarlett, it's okay, baby," he whispers soothingly, his hand smoothing over my hair but I'm inconsolable.

  "NO!" I yell the best I can after I've screamed all night long, my voice nothing more than a hard rasp. "I can't! I won't."

  I'm clawing at his chest, my body heaving with sobs as I cough and sputter. He's struggling to sit up, lifting my body and his as he scoots so that his back is against the headboard. He tucks my face into his neck and I wrap my arms tightly around his waist, sobbing that I won't leave but it comes out more as incoherent mumbles.

  "It's gonna be okay," he says steadily and I shake my head against him, writhing and clutching at him.

  "No! No! I w-w-won't d-d-do it. Fuck this! Fuck my m-m-masters, fuck my p-p-professor. I'm not g-g-going! I won't d-d-do it! I can't d-d-do it!"

  "Scar—"

  "NO!" I screech again, pulling back to look him in the face, wiping angrily at my cheeks, forcing my voice steady. "No, I love you," I pant and his eyes close, bringing his hand up to smooth over my hair. "I love you and I want you. You're mine! I don't care what they say. I'm NOT going." I bury my face in his chest as the sobs take me over again. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou."

  He shushes me quietly as my entire body convulses with sobs and it hurts. It hurts so fucking bad and I'm not leaving. Whatever the consequences are, I'm not going. I'm going to stay here with him in this bed and we can work this out. Everything will be okay as long as he's with me.

  "Scarlett," he breathes shakily and he swallows hard. "Scar, we can't."

  My brain jams. "What?" I ask, my breath coming in short gasps.

  His face is set in anguish, his brows knit, his strong jaw clenched. He brings a hand to my face and I pull away from him, my eyes demanding an explanation. This is all he ever wanted, me to say 'fuck it all' and for us to be together. I don't understand. I told him I loved him. I told him I wasn't leaving. This is what he wanted. I don't understand.

  "You were always the strong one" He smiles softly at me, tucking a strand of hair behind me ear, "You were always the one who kept me in check. 'Harry not here.' 'Harry we can't do this now.'"

  My heart constricts. "I know I was a bitch, Harry," I cough, my breath hitching. "I know that. I'm sorry. I—"

  He presses one long finger to my lips, silencing me instantly. "You took care of me. You made sure nothing bad happened to us. You were the responsible one." I snort at this and he smiles. "You were the responsible one and I was t
his reckless little boy who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."

  He sighs, one hand smoothing over my hair as the other cups my chin, running his thumb along my bottom lip. I nuzzle my face into his hand, tears still zigzagging down my face every now and then. He licks his lips and takes a deep breath, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

  "Let...let me be the strong one this time," he whispers softly and I close my eyes, shaking my head at him. He shushes me again, his hands holding my face, smoothing my hair down. "Let me be a man for once, Scar."

  My heart shatters as I fall against him, my hands clutching at his shoulders as sobs wrack my body because the way he says it...I know he's right. He's always right. He was right when he told me I should just give in and he's right now when he says I have to let go. He holds me tight against him and I let him cradle me and shush me. I let all of my pain and anguish out against his chest, coughing and sputtering and begging him to reconsider. He doesn't and I feel helpless and defeated. I decide that not being the strong one isn't as easy as one would assume it to be.

  By the time my tears finally subside I'm stoic and trembling, the reality of what this all means finally weighing down on me. His voice is soft as he tells me it's time to get up.

  The clock reads seven a.m. I shut my eyes and pray for it to go away. I pray for time to stop. I pray that I can just sit here and pretend that we can stay this way forever. But he won't let me, pulling me back from him, peeling my weak fingers away easily as I try to grip him.

  He slides out of bed, wobbling as he searches for his clothes and I watch him, wrapping myself in the blankets that smell like him but they'll never be warm like him. I'll never be warm like that again. I'll never feel safe like that again. My heart trembles like I'm going to cry again but the tears don't come, my body too weak to even cry anymore.

  My limbs don't feel like my own as he tugs me out of bed and helps me dress, speaking softly to me, promising me I'll be okay. And as I sit on the end of the bed and watch him kneel in front of me to slip my sandals on my feet, it really hits me. This is the last time I'm ever going to be with him.

  My hand reaches out to touch his face and he smiles weakly up at me, his green eyes so far beyond fatigued. He pulls himself up and presses his lips to mine and I grip the back of his head, hands delving into his unruly curls as his tongue slips past my lips for a quick taste. He pulls back and I try to dart forward to recapture them but my brain is tired and slow and I'm not quick enough.

  "Come on," he whispers softly, pulling himself to his feet and holding a hand out to me.

  I take it, gripping his fingers tightly and I can't leave him. I can't do it. He steps forward to grab for my suitcase and I step close behind him, my hip pressing to his, my free hand wrapping around his forearm. He looks at me over his shoulder, smiling softly before turning back and he picks up my bag. I press close to him as we walk into the living area, moving slowly so our legs don't get tangled and we make our way towards the door. My entire being is begging me to tug him back into the bedroom and curl up against his chest and sleep until it's dark again, to kiss him and love him and never leave. But I'm too weak to protest, too broken to hear him tell me no.

  He opens the door and I stop, not crossing the threshold. He looks back at me questioningly and my eyes plead with him, my fingers squeezing around his hand and his arm. He gives me a sad, longing look that is quickly replaced by a blank mask and then a small smile as he tugs his head back, beckoning me to follow him. I heave a pitiful sigh and step forward, my stomach dropping and I feel I could be sick. This is really it. It's really over.

  He tugs me along behind him and presses the button for the elevator and we wait in silence, staring at the floor indicator. I tremble slightly, forcing the bile from my throat as I curl my arm around his, pressing my face to his shoulder. He rests his cheek against the top of my head, his sigh rustling my hair softly.

  The doors open and we both stare at it wide eyed, neither of us moving. I'm paralyzed by fear. I can't go. I can't. I can't. He moves first, picking up my suitcase and setting it inside the elevator. All that's left now is for me to get inside.

  I look up at him and he smiles reassuringly at me, tugging his hand from mine and settling it on my lower back, giving me a gentle nudge. My feet step forward and I'm in the elevator and it feels so big and empty and I'm all alone. I look back at him and his jaw is tight, staring at me blankly, his fists clenched at his sides.

  "NO!" I scream as the doors start to close and they jump back as I throw myself through the opening and into his arms.

  His arms receive me, closing around me tightly as he buries his face in my shoulder, his back trembling as silent tears slide down my collarbone. My hand clutches the back of his head, my other arm tight around his shoulders, holding him close, every muscle in my body tensed from the pain. I can't leave him. I won't leave him.

  The doors start to close again and he sniffs, pulling his face back and reaching out quickly to hit the button again, keeping them open. I don't let him go, pulling back just enough to cup his face, wiping his tears away with my thumbs like he always did for me, and I kiss him. I kiss him and it's deep and it's good and I don't ever want to stop.

  He wrenches his mouth from mine, pulling back breathless and his eyes tell me he can't do this. His eyes say he's barely hanging on. He needs me to get in this elevator. He needs me to help him let me go. I press my forehead hard to his one last time, tears coursing down my cheeks as I unwrap my arms from around his body and I take a step back.

  And another.

  And another.

  And I'm standing in the elevator again, looking back at him and he's taking his breaths in heavy gulps, his entire body trembling. I fight the urge to reach for him again because I know he can't take it. I'm sure it's taking everything he has just to stay upright because I know that's how it is for me right now. My hand reaches out and it's a miracle I can even hit the button for the lobby I'm shaking so hard. My eyes fall on him one last time, memorizing him.

  He's tall, taller than me with golden brown curls sticking out in every direction. Tears course from his green eyes down his handsome face which I used to call boyish but the expression he holds right now is only one that a man can have. My eyes fall on his broad, sunkissed shoulders and slide down to his slim waist and then to his scrawny ass legs. I smile at him softly and his eyelids flutter as he smiles back.

  His lips mouth the words "I love you" and I mouth them back just before the doors close. And that's the last time I see him, smiling and telling me he loves me.

  Table of Contents

  INTRO

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

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  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

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