The Writer

Chapter Eight

I found myself sitting still on Maxwell's bed as I watched him move about his room. He was humming something under his breath as he searched through his drawers by the wall, and soon enough he'd taken out a stack of books. He turned to me, giving me a small smile that made my cheeks burn. I'd looked through those drawers just minutes before. I knew what those books in his hands were.

"So, what do you want to do. I have books," he said with a small chuckle before looking down at the stack in his hands. "Well, obviously," he laughed again as he walked over to me and took a seat on the bed beside me. I clenched the material of the green duvet, feeling uneasy about his closeness. The sound of music, chatting and laughter from the other side of the door couldn't be heard because of the soundproof walls. It was quiet.

Really quiet.

And the silence only emphasized the fact that I was alone with Maxwell even more.

"Are you okay?" I heard Maxwell ask, making me turn to look at him. I wanted to look away immediately, but I willed myself to stay still as he stared at me with his brown eyes. He smiled a bit, sighing as he dropped the books that had been sitting on his lap beside him on the bed instead.

"Y-yeah," I stuttered, sounding unbelievable. Maxwell sighed, and the room went quiet once again.

"You can leave if you don't want to be here. I thought I read things right, I guess not."

"What?" I asked in a low tone, wondering what he was talking about. He shook his head, kind of silently telling me not to worry about it. He turned away from me, letting his hand touch the cover of the book cover at the top of the stack beside him.

"I want to be here," I said suddenly, making him look back at me with a surprised look on his face. I found myself looking away, not sure I could stare at his freckled face with big brown eyes without my whole face turning red.

"Really?" I heard him, and I nodded in response. I looked up again, finding him running a hand through his curls before he looked down at his feet that were in house slippers under the dim light. "You saw my stuff, right?"

"I—"

"Did you? I put them in plain sight so that you would," Maxwell said, looking up at me with a small knowing smile.

Oh. I said in my mind, nodding after Maxwell's words. I could feel my face warming up again. I was dizzy with confusion and excitement. What now? I wondered, inhaling a deep breath as I watched Maxwell bent over to pull open the drawers under his bed.

"So, I guess I can cut to the chase," he muttered, picking the black blindfold and wrapping it around his hand. "Do you want to try?"

I stayed quiet for a bit, not knowing what to do. I wanted to let Maxwell do what he wanted. I wanted him to kiss me, and touch me, but these thoughts have only existed as just that — thoughts. I wouldn't know what to do, what exactly to expect.

"Xander?" I heard him call my name, and I shut my eyes, bending over before bringing my hands to my forehead. I was confused. Really confused.

"Okay, I'll put this away. I'm sorry for bringing it up out of the blue. I thought..." he trailed before sighing, and I took my hands away from my face before sitting up. You thought what? I asked in my mind as I took hold of his hand, making him turn to me.

"I..." I looked away, not knowing what to say after that. Maxwell kept looking at me, and I let out a sigh. "I like you, like a lot," I mumbled, before letting out a nervous laugh. "You know that, right? I mean, my book. It was obvious..." I trailed, feeling myself shake before I just looked down. I wasn't sure how to tell Maxwell that I wanted him a bit differently than he wanted me. How could I tell him that I just didn't want to sleep with him? That I wanted him to be my boyfriend, not just friends with friends with benefits? Because that's where he seemed to be going with all the hints he was dropping.

"Yes, and I like you a lot too," he mumbled, making me look up to meet his eyes.

But it's not my type of like. You don't like me the way I like you. I'm sure about that. I said in my mind, not saying it out loud. We just stared at each other, with my green eyes piercing Maxwell's brown ones, and his brown ones piercing mine. After a while of just looking at each other, Maxwell looked away, turning his gaze to the thin black blindfold in his hands.

"I really just want to kiss you," he said, looking back up at me. "I didn't want to scare you. I thought you were the same because of the kind of stuff you wrote. I — I'm sorry," he muttered with another sigh, clenching his fist, and in so doing keeping the blindfold inside the fist he'd created, and out of sight.

"Use it," I said in a firm tone, making me look back at me. I leaned in, reaching out to hold on to his fist. I loosened his fist, making him open his palm until the black blindfold was in full sight. We both stared down at it, and I bit my bottom lip before speaking up. "Use it, okay?"

Maxwell looked at me, before looking away again. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod of my head, and with that Maxwell leaned in, bringing the blindfold to my eyes. He smiled at me.

"Your eyes are really pretty," he said, making my eyes go wide, and he chuckled, and it felt like the tension was lifted. He stopped chuckling, and soon he's put the blindfold over my eyes, and when he tied the knot from the side I could feel it push my head back a bit. I wasn't sure what to do now that I couldn't see anything. Maxwell didn't say anything, and the only thing I could hear was the ticking of the clock in the background, and both my breathing and Maxwell's.

I found myself letting out a hum when I felt his lips press against my cheek, and then my jaw bone. What is he doing? I wondered as I just sat there and felt my heart slam against my ribcage. The feeling of his lips left slight tingles whenever he pulled away, and by the time he kissed the tip of my nose before giving me a brief peck on the lips I was breathless and hungry for something more.

"How does that feel?" he asked.

"Great," I answered, listening to him as he hummed. He brought his face to the side of mine, pressing his cheek against mine as he continued to hum the song I couldn't identify. The feeling of the noise bouncing off him and to me, made me shiver. He let one of his hands cup my face. His hand was warm, and I wanted to see him, but the blindfold was well tied — I couldn't see a thing, and I was more than exercising the rest of my senses to try and experience the moment in full.

"You're so cute," he muttered, before turning my face until his lips met mine. I gasped as he kissed me, and I reached out my hands to find his face — hold him as I tried to experience him. I let my hands move through his hair, feeling the soft wavy lucks in my hand. I shivered, feeling him touch the back of my neck, pulling me closer, and kissing me more aggressively. He coaxed my mouth open, deepening the kiss as his tongue met mine.

And somehow, I'd found my way to his lap, sitting on him comfortably as we kissed each other feverishly. We held on to each other's hair and skin. I was completely blinded by the piece of cloth tied around my eyes, yet I was more responsive and aware than I'd ever been with my eyes open before.

"Maxwell," I muttered when he pulled away and I started to feel him pull at my sweater. He tugged at it as if looking for buttons before he eventually lifted it and took it off. I could also feel his pressure under me, and it made me both happy and a bit shy.

"Maxwell," I repeated more firmly, shivering at the feel of his fingers against my chest. He spread his thin fingers over the whole of my torso before making to press, massage, and feel my now rock-hard n*****s.

"It's okay," he assured me, and I soon felt his lips on my neck, then my collarbone and soon soft hair was pressed up against my chest, and I gasped, holding on to it as I felt him kiss me there, and coax it with his tongue.

"You're perfect, you know that?" I wasn't keeping track of the things he kept saying exactly, and I wasn't even sure if he meant them or was just saying them to set the mood. Either way, they made my heart swell, sending my heart into a faster-paced beat. I was too far gone, completely obsessed and invested in the person now kissing me and touching my body.