As our story came to an end, I realised just how much I cherished the old days, and how I had taken time for granted.
His rude comments, his attitude – that was the best part about all of this.
Because it indicated time.
And once he had begun to change, time no longer stopped for us.
It was February by the time her clock had ticked down.
The Friday of the game, the first game that they had lost, and their season was officially over.
She knew how hard this was for him, because in his case, playing was as easy as breathing.
But all good things must come to an end.
She spent her last days between his apartment and her own, losing herself in him, as she knew best.
And then came the bonfire, and that’s when her time had really run out.
“Sam! You done?”
“Yeah, just give me a second!”
She didn’t have a second.
She didn’t have anything left at all.
But she thought she did.
Sam and I made our way to the Valentine’s Day bonfire that weekend, walking hand in hand, seemingly a couple, but that title had long been taken from us.
We still pretended though – for the public, for myself, for Sam, and maybe even for him.
The last time we had come to the bonfire, all hell broke loose.
And somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew history would repeat itself.
And maybe I wanted it to.
We sat just as before, on the benches opposite a group of girls gathered on the other side of the fire, Yasmine and Mia nowhere to be found, but I certainly wasn’t complaining.
Hate is a strong word, and I couldn’t imagine feeling such emotions towards someone, but these girls hadn’t made me feel the most welcome, and so I didn’t bother wasting my time trying to please them.
Mia was okay, though. God knows she’s a good person, and maybe Yasmine, too.
But there was always that one person’s involvement that made you feel the way you did, and he was it for me, every time, in every given situation.
“I’m going to get us some s’mores,” Sam had said, and leaned down to peck a tender kiss on my cheek, but there was no fire, no burning desire, and his lips simply felt cold and strange against my skin.
But then there was him.
The familiar brush of his fingers tugging at my wrist.
“Come with me,” he more demanded than asked, and of course I followed, all too aware of Sam’s presence nearby, but when I’d stare up into those green eyes, I’d forget my position here, my relationship status and my boyfriend back by the fire.
“Theo, I’m with -”
But he cut me off, and pressed his lips to mine so forcefully, I stumbled back against the fencing.
“Missed you,” he smiles, and pressed his forehead to mine.
“It’s only been two days,” I giggle, and his eyes gloss over in excitement, noticing my desperation running as deep as his.
He kisses me again, and leads me down to the ground with him, my jeans getting covered in mud.
I straddled his waist, my thighs parting either side of his torso, as I rocked against him gently, teasingly, earning grunts and moans in frustration at his growing impatience.
I could feel him harden against me already, and bit down on my lip to prevent my own round of sounds, but they tumbled out nevertheless.
He pulls away, cupping both cheeks, before one hand reaches down to his back pocket and he waves a gold foil packet between his pointer and middle.
“I listened,” he pants, still trying to regain his composure after our heated kiss.
“I can see that,” I smile, and he goes to flip me under, but I stop his movements.
“Theo?”
“Something wrong?”
“No, I…” I pause for a moment, not sure how I was going to go about saying this, but I was certain I wanted to try it, and I knew that he’d be eager to as well.
“I…. uh,”
This was so embarrassing, and I could tell he was trying his hardest to hold back a laugh.
“Say it, Dove. What do you want to do?”
“I want to try it this way…. you know, with me on top,” I bite down on my lip, and screw my eyes shut to avoid his eyes, but he tilts my chin up slightly and his cold fingers instantly cause me to open them again.
“Was that so hard?” He grins, and when his hands move to my back and squeeze, I yelp and wriggle myself further into his lap.
“Yes. I never know how tell you these things,” I admit, and he sighs, pressing his forehead to mine once again.
“You’re so awkward, it hurts,” he chuckles, and I playfully swat at his chest.
I’m certain that by this point, it became a habit, an excuse to touch his sculpted frame in any way I could.
He presses his lips to mine, but they don’t stay there for too long, as they move to my jaw, then my neck, and his hands hungrily find their way to my chest, tugging at the neckline of my shirt.
Exasperated, I pull away from him slightly and remove it for him, and his eyes widen when he sees that I am wearing a floral pink set, another one of my accomplishments.
“How many of these did you get, exactly?” He whispers, and I go to push him down onto the ground by his chest.
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” I moan, and lean down to kiss him once again.
“Wait -”
“What’s wrong?”
I was too paranoid when it came to him, and assumed things too quickly, too soon.
“Nothing, it’s just that my back really hurts,” he laughs, and I join him, before pulling his own sweatshirt over his head and he laid it down underneath him, before repositioning himself on his back and letting me straddle him once again.
“Touch me,” I breathe, and his mouth finds my nipples, nipping and sucking, licking and circling, after he roughly peeled the bra off my body, and throwing it to the ground beside us.
Our bodies moulded together, a perfect fit.
Like puzzle pieces.