A Little Bit Married

Like Ice Cream

I lay back on Gray's lap, my chest heaving as I patted my stomach. We had finished eating, and I was slowly munching on an ice cream now, and he had assumed the unspoken role of cleaning my lips when I smudged it.

"Gray?"

He turned to me, his hand slowly coming over me, his hand resting across my shoulders. "Yes?"

"I have been thinking," I said, my words a little slurred because we had drank a bit more and continued to toast, so I was feeling a little tipsy. "What would you have done had I decided not to help, and Samantha couldn't escape?"

His brows furrowed, and I watched the light dance around in his eyes as he blinked slowly.

"I was hoping you would," he said almost cautiously. "But if you hadn't, I don't think I would have continued with the wedding. I had a year to move on. She doesn't matter anymore."

"So it would have been a hassle. Got it."

He ran his fingers down my hair, and my little wandering drunk mind wondered how we became this cosy, this close. Just lying on his lap like it was nothing, him gently touching me intermittently like it was nothing either.

"What would you have done had I not married you?"

I shook my head. "You married me. I am your wife now. I don't want to think of anything else."

He went quiet for a moment. "Can I change my earlier answer?"

I broke into a laugh. "No, you can't."

He rolled his eyes, then sighed. "That's not exactly fair."

I turned, holding my ice cream. It was slowly running down my hand, and I knew I was being a little silly, but I have come to grow fond of being silly with him and knowing he would never ever judge me for it.

"Do you want a taste?"

He gave a small smile. "I thought you would never offer."

"I am not that mean," I said, chuckling. "You literally fed me so much."

He didn't say anything but leaned to the ice cream, his eyes taking it in slowly.

"Take a bite."

He nodded, his hand slowly wrapping around my wrist. He didn't take a bite from the cream itself but slowly leaned to my hand, his tongue slowly running over the trail of cream that had followed my hand to a little below my wrist.

I held my breath, my chest heaving as he let go of my hand, then raked a finger through his hair.

"I always thought mint chocolate was bad. I guess I figured a hack."

I blinked, slowly withdrawing my hand from him, my chest heaving hard. I couldn't bring myself to look at the ice cream anymore, because now it felt a little too bland compared to what it is I just felt.

"This is why," I said under my breath.

"Why... what?"

He was running his hand down my hair again, his fingertips touching my forehead.

"This is why she can't let you go."

He raised a brow, then shook his head, a small laugh escaping him. "I doubt it."

"But..."

"She and Kevin met up at least four times a week just to have s*x. I doubt she is finding it hard to let me go because of some sort of bodily allure."

I nodded slowly. "They probably were doing that, but there is something about the things that you do..." I trailed off, then slowly sat up, turning to him.

He looked a little confused, his brows drawn, his lips slightly pursed as I leaned to him.

My hand cupped the side of his face, and he looked down at my hands before he met my eyes again, his lips parted.

"Is it okay if... I protect you?"

"Protect me?" He asked, his voice low. "From what, Angeline?"

I shrugged. "I want to always hear that name, Angeline. I want you to lick things off me. I want you to kiss me like you do when you feel stressed. I want to have dinner on a hospital couch and wear your jacket all day. I want to... " I sighed, my eyes pooling, my chest heaving. "I want to keep doing this. So, is it okay if I protect you from the woman you used to love?"

His eyes slowly darted slowly across mine, and he leaned, then gently pushed my hair back.

"You barely know me, sweetheart. You barely know the things that I have done. You barely know who I really am."

I bit down on my lips. "Does this have anything to do with what she said earlier? About you going to prison?"

He sighed, his chest heaving. I could tell it was a sore spot, and he was strained, his brows drawn, and he seemed like he didn't even want to indulge.

"If you..."

"I did go to prison. I was stupid, and I don't want you to involve yourself with any of that. You are a pure little dove who sees the good in everybody, and I want you to stay that way."

I leaned closer, my lips parted against his, brushing slowly. "You haven't answered my question, Gray. Is it okay if I protect you from the woman you once loved?"

He slowly nodded. "I don't need protection, but if it makes you feel better, then sure, sweetheart."

I sighed and started to lean back, hut he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to him, my hand resting on his shoulder now, a mere inch between our faces.

My eyes moved slowly between his right eye, left eye, and then his lips, and then I broke into a small smile.

"You know what you taste like?"

His eyes filled with amusement as he held my back, keeping me stable. "I knew you were drunk."

"I am not!" I whined, then slowly brought my hand to his right cheek again. "You taste like ice cream. Soft, cold..." My voice trailed off, and I started to laugh.

"Angeline..."

"I enjoy kissing you so much, too." I leaned closer to his ear. "Even more than Kevin."

He smiled. "Is that so?"

I nodded. "You have a peculiar taste, and you are warm, and your body is..." I hiccuped, and he started to laugh, his hands gently running down my face.

"You have peculiar taste, too."

My eyes met his, but before I could say a word, he leaned to me, gently pecking my lips. My eyes widened as I met his eyes, and he gave a small smile.

"All you have to do is ask. Most times, you don't even need to ask. My lips don't reside in my pocket."

I nodded, biting down on my lips, then slowly leaned to him. My eyes closed as I kissed his lips, then leaned away, my chest heaving.

He watched me like I was from outer space, light and humour roaming around his eyes.

"I..." I started to say as I leaned closer, feeling strength leave my body. "I got butterflies."

I probably would have never said that sober, but my rationality was gone, and so were my inhibitions.

I leaned on his shoulder and closed my eyes, my hands dropping off, my chest heaving as I started to fall asleep.

"Me too," he whispered right before I fell off the realm of the awakened.