Donovan slowly opened the gate of the house and, careful not to lift my dress, put me over his shoulder. I was about to throw up at any moment.
I felt him start to climb the tree next to my window, and was surprised by how quickly and nimbly he did it… so much so that when he reached it and opened the window, I rushed to the bathroom to vomit.
Immediately, Donovan’s hands held my hair, allowing me to get it all out more comfortably.
“You don’t handle alcohol well, do you?”
“Drop dead,” I choked out.
Once I felt there was nothing left to come up from my stomach, I stood straight, passed Donovan, rinsed my face, brushed my teeth, and collapsed on my bed.
“Did you write this?” he asked, scanning my desk. How did he get there so quickly?
I sighed and drew my pillow over my head.
“What thing?”
I could see in the darkness the shadow of his jaw clenching. “I hate how no matter what I do, I’m always thinking about you.
I hate how you broke down my walls and crossed my lines.
I hate how you know my heart and understand my mind.
I hate how when I’m not looking, you start to look.
I hate how I feel overwhelmed by the way you cared.
I shouldn’t have given you my heart, but that’s the thing, you took it imperceptibly.
You made me believe that maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be.
I hate how I dream about you endlessly.
I hate how you don’t even know what you mean to me.
You met my expectations, without fail.
You made me believe in fairy tales.
Coins in a well, wishes upon a star.
No one could come close to the angel you are.
Because I loved how my heart would beat whenever you were near me.
I’m crazy, and I can’t even debate it.
I thought you were my other half and damn, I hate it.
I hate how no matter who I meet, no one is above you.”
Did he really have to set his sight on that? I wrote it when Donovan left weeks ago, I was down and had to express it somewhere.
I tried to sound as uninterested as possible, as if what I wrote wasn’t about him.
“Yes, mine, I need to finish it,” I confirmed, feeling my body still burning. Vodka does wonders with body temperature.
“I like it.”
“Thank you.”
An uncomfortable silence settled between us as Donovan began to walk back towards the window. “Rest.”
Throwing my pillow at his back, he turned around. “Don’t go…”
“I can’t stay, Cel,” he murmured with his recently frequent sad eyes.
“Please…” I pleaded and he didn’t take a minute to close the window and approach the foot of the bed. I grabbed his hand to invite him to lie down next to me and he complied.
“Were you waiting here for me since you sent me that message?” I asked, resting my head on his abdomen and he caressed my back.
“Maybe,” he answered simply.
“I’m sorry, I swear I read you wrote at five.”
“It doesn’t matter now… are you sober?”
“Maybe,” I said, mimicking him, and without turning to see him, I knew he was smiling.
“Why didn’t you tell me the kid was gay?”
I knew this moment would come.
I turned and sat up on the bed. I put my hand over my chest and used the little that Cris had taught me about how to be a Drama Queen. “He’s gay? Oh my God, I didn’t know, no wonder he always talked about your butt.”
Donovan made a pillow land on my head and I collapsed on the bed. In a second my hands were above my head and his hands were holding them there, interlacing them. He put one of his legs on one side of my body and the other on the other. He was on top of me, of course, without leaning on me, he would crush me.
“You like driving yourself crazy, don’t you?” he whispered on my neck.
The goosebumps his warm breath caused on the sensitive skin behind my ear completely melted me under him. I closed my eyes and let the tip of his nose trace a line of caresses starting on my cheek and going down my neckline.
“Damn, damn, damn.”
“Maybe,” I murmured with air held in my lungs.
Gently he shifted his position, leaving one of his legs between mine. This is getting good.
His lustful flaming eyes took my breath away. Releasing one of my hands, he placed his on my thigh and caressed the lower part of it softly.
God bless dresses.
“You’re cruel,” he said without stopping touching me.
“At this moment, I think you surpass all levels of cruelty,” I replied.
He laughed and seemed very focused on what his hand was doing. “Your skin is very soft, Alice.”
My heart beat so fast and hard that it could be mistaken for consecutive hits on wood. I swallowed and took a deep breath. The heat began to warm the room. I desired him, from the first uncontrolled approach to me, I desired him.
He swallowed and looked at me. “I don’t want to have sex with you.”
I copied his seriousness and replied, “Who says I do?”
We immediately started to kiss, intense, voracious, with lips, tongue, teeth. Donovan confidently moved his hand up to my butt and squeezed it. I moaned into his mouth, pressed myself against his body, and felt his member through his pants. I got drunk on his perfume, magnetism, and the heat between my thighs.
Somewhere in all this excitement, there was still a hint of my desire to tease him. “‘I don’t want to have sex with you, Celina,'” I repeated teasingly over his lips.
“Shut up,” he growled, his hands skimming my bra.
Goodbye Celina’s dress.
“You have no idea how many reasons there are why I shouldn’t be doing this with you,” he murmured, descending my neck with sweet kisses.
“Shut up,” I moaned, grabbing handfuls of his hair when he reached my navel.
Goodbye Donovan’s pants.
“Celina, are you there?”
Goodbye Celina’s will to live.