Spray Paint and Thick Tension
1067 Words
I slowly dropped the knife I was holding, my chest lightly heaving as I avoided Florian's gaze. Does this mean that my parents would be helping Ronan run away after what he just did to me? I know he never held a job, and for a trip like that, my father would have to be sponsoring it. How can they do this to me?
I turned to Florian. He was sitting on the counter, his eyes fixed on me, his expression solemn. I felt tears sting the back of my eyes, and I immediately shook them off, then started to turn back to the meat.
I had no appetite at this point, and no motivation to do anything at all. I wanted to curl up in bed and close my eyes, and just pretend that none of this ever happened to me. That my brother hadn't aided in my violation. That my parents were not helping him escape in turn.
"Roxanne."
I looked up to Florian, and he gave a small smile, then moved backwards, tapping lightly on the small space between his legs.
"Come here."
I looked down, then shook my head. "I won't fit."
He chuckled. "Why? You used to fit."
My brows furrowed, but the memory came like a wrecking ball, and I broke into a laugh. I remember the one time I had truly seen Florian getting into trouble.
It had been right after I got bullied by one of the numerous girls who were interested in him, and they thought that him always being around me was a translation of his interest rather than just him being around Ronan, who was his friend.
At that point, Florian did get off of teasing and stressing me out, and having some basic girls stress me out because of him was truly the lat thing I wanted in my life.
He had spray painted a wall with cuss words once he saw me that way, and I enjoyed joining it and screaming them out, like I was saying them to those girls.
Once we got caught, I could remember the adrenaline rush, the way he held my hand and ran up the stairs, his laugh infectious and beautiful, my hair flying with the wind, and then when we ended up on that tiny room on the rooftop that was mostly covered with a large table for some reason, he had put his hand on my mouth to keep me shut, and had fit me between his legs while he sat on the edge of the table.
That was probably the very first time he had sent chills down my spine, and I know my first kiss could have been right there had Ronan not come up looking for us.
I looked at him now, and seeing him this way, it only made me laugh harder.
"I am not exactly sure why you wanted to do that."
He chuckled. "Do you want to do it again?"
My brows furrowed. "What?"
"Cuss everyone out on a wall and do stupid things around the city."
"You are going to Macau," I said, laughing. It did sound like something I would want to do, however.
"Oh, please, Macau can wait. Let's go risk being behind bars and run around the city." His expression sobered up, and he leaned closer to me, his fingers pushing my hair back behind my ear.
I could see the large cut in his hand, the sincerity in his eyes, the intensity in his touch. My body moved instinctively closer, and his eyes just softened a lot more.
It felt so good to see the sort of effect I had on him in his eyes, and even though he had been scary just earlier, this was the Florian I knew.
"I need to hear you laugh," he said, his voice low as he caressed my face.
I sighed, slowly moving closer, till I was standing between his legs, my face cupped in his hands.
"Can we spray paint my parent's house, then?"
"Even better," he said, mischief painted in his eyes. "We could put duct tape on the main entrance too."
I broke into a laugh, my hands gently wrapping around his waist, my head thrown back as I looked up to him.
"What will you do if we get caught?"
He laughed. "I am Floriam Hunt, Darling. It will be your father's word against mine, and I am certainly more powerful."
I broke into a laugh again. It was petty, it was stupid, but ever since they threw me out, this was the first time I was looking forward to being in that space again. Maybe the childish part of me hoped it would liberate me. Maybe the adult part of me hoped it would liberate me too.
Florian went quiet, his eyes slowly moving between my eyes and my lips. My smile slowly fell as the tension in the room thickened, and I found myself darting around his face in the same way he was darting around mine.
He slightly gulped, his eyes fixing on my lips as his gently parted.
"You are beautiful when you laugh."
I swallowed hard, my chest heaving. "Only then?"
He let his hands gently run over my face, too. "You are beautiful when you wake up from sleep."
I chuckled, but not even that was enough to break the spell. "Only that?"
He bit down on his lips lightly. "You are beautiful when you moan my name."
I broke into a laugh, my head thrown back. It felt so good to hear myself laugh again, and I immediately went back to him, like some sort of magnet.
"You are a naughty boy," I said, gently touching the tip of his nose.
He smiled, watching me like I was a precious little thing. He said nothing and simply stayed there, caressing my face slowly, his eyes darting across both of mine, his throat bobbing up and down from how much he was swallowing.
"Do you want to kiss me?"
I asked, finally snapping under the heavy intensity of his gaze and my own heightening need.
"Not right now," he said in a small whisper, his fingers running down to my neck. "I will kiss you when you want to be kissed."
I smiled, nodding. This was probably why in the back of my mind, it was always Florian.
- Writer
