Words, Words, Words

I don’t think the stars have ever looked so bright.

As I lay on the hood of my car with Amelia in my arms, I feel out of place, staring up at the dark, night sky. If seven years ago, you had told me that I’d begin falling for this bird ever so slowly, I would have laughed in your face. I would have gone on and on about how annoying she was, how she was completely ignorant and dull. Then with a fierce sneer across my face, I’d flip you off and walk away.

But now as she buries her face into my neck, her arms locked around my torso, I can’t help but smile. This was exactly how it should have been from the start. I’m sure I’ve never been this genuinely happy in quite a while. I’ve never felt this good; like I’m finally accepted by the one person that matters.

“Can we go back to my place? It’s getting cold,” Amelia whimpers, her lips brushing against the inked skin below my ear. Chills run down my spine as a smirk crosses over my lips. I flick my lip ring with my tongue habitually before squeezing her small hip tenderly and sitting up.

“Sure, let’s go,” I mumble as I slide off the car then turn and reach out a hand to help Amelia. Her small hand slips into mine before I pull her gently into me, my lips crashing down on hers just as her feet hit the black top of the parking lot of the public park.

We’ve been here for hours, talking, touching and people watching. And at this point, I don’t think my feelings have ever been stronger for Amelia than they are in this moment. Before I knew her, I would judge her based on her words and actions against me, even though I was provoking all those negative comments. Now that it’s done, now that I know more about her – her opinions, her morals, her goals – I know that she’s a lot more than just another pretty face.

As I begin to deepen the small kiss, Amelia pulls away, leaving her hand in mine. She looks up at me with a raised eyebrow, scoffing lightly, “I hope you know I’m not going to give it up to you tonight.”

Looking down at her innocent face, the moon’s soft light shining in her eyes, I can’t help but laugh. She continues to stare at me as I shake my head and kiss her forehead, muttering against her soft skin, “Yeh underestimate me.”

As I pull away, her eyebrows knit together as she asks, “How so?”

“I ain’t a sleaze, Lia,” I respond quickly, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. The winds pick up, biting at her cheeks, making them flush a pretty pink. Her natural beauty stuns me, makes me stare at her in delight, a ridiculous smile across my face.

“Oh, you’re not?” She asks, giggling a little. My smile widens at her adorable laugh as I shake my head. She rolls her eyes as she says, “Then why have you slept with half the girls in Sheffield?”

“Rumors, love,” I say as I pull her body into mine. Her arms slip around my waist, hiding underneath the warmth of my hoodie. I wrap my arms around her, bringing her body even closer as I explain, “I’ve had my fair share of birds, but not a scandalous amount of ‘em. It’s probably a lot less than many people think.”

Amelia doesn’t respond. Instead, the smile upon her faces softens before she presses her lips lightly against the corner of my mouth, catching my lip ring a bit. She lingers there for a moment before pulling back and whispering, “Let’s go.”

_____________________________________________________

As I stare up at the huge, white ‘house’ Amelia lives in, I can’t help but feel a little intimidated. I’ve never met her parents, never been inside her home. In all honesty, I don’t know if I’m really welcomed; I put their daughter through hell, she must have told them about me at some point in these seven years.

I feel a small hand slide into my sweaty grasp and Amelia’s small voice breaks the silence, humor biting at her words, “What’s wrong? You look horrified.”

“I’ve jus’,” I pause and look down at her, taking in her sweet smile, the sparkle in her eyes, enhanced by the moonlight, before shrugging softly, “I jus’ haven’ ever been teh yeh home before.”

“You haven’t been missing out on much,” She mutters before tugging on my hand as she begins walking to her front door. I follow, my interest in the home slowly fading and my desire for her touch suddenly increasing. I want to feel her hands brushing through my hair, her smooth skin against mine. I want to hear her unsteady, nervous breaths of air, want to see the flash of fear and doubt in her eyes before I press my lips against hers. I want her – now.

The lust for her I have is so strong, the minute we’re inside her home, my anticipation gets the better of me and I start fidgeting. Her hand is no longer in mine as she walks further into the silent house, looking around for anyone as she slips off her shoes and drops her bag.

“I don’t think anyone’s home, my dad probably took my mom out for dinner or something,” She thinks out loud, her eyes looking into the living room. A puzzled look crosses her face when she sees the television turned off along with the lights and no one occupying the couch.

I don’t respond as she shrugs; I don’t think I can. I’ve grown impatient. I want to pull her body into mine, feel her every curve. So I keep my mouth shut and tap my foot noiselessly against the hardwood floor before she looks my way.

“Want to go upstairs?” She asks innocently, a small smile taking over her plump, pink lips. I nod slowly, my eyes locked on hers as she waves her pointer finger, telling me to follow her.

She begins up the stairs, not bothering to look back to see if I’m behind her. I don’t miss a beat, though, my long legs working to my advantage as I catch up behind her quickly, my eyes set on the photographs along the staircase.

The pictures take to my interest immediately; Amelia looks so young, so carefree in all of them. Her smile is wide and meaningful. The look in her eyes is less vacant; she looks filled, filled with happiness as the California sun beats down on her.

But quickly, the warm setting of California changes to gray England. As the pictures move on, Amelia ages and the lively spirit in her smile diminishes with each photograph. I recognize the very last picture, a picture Tom took not too long ago. A copy of it sits with the pictures at home above the fireplace of all our friends and family; she looks sad underneath the fake smile, a tired, pleading look in her eyes.

I find my footsteps stopping before it, my eyes staring it down as I take it in for the millionth time. Amelia doesn’t seem to mind though, as she slowly creeps to what seems to be the master bedroom and looks inside. When I’m finally done analyzing the all too familiar picture, I look her way.

She closes the door with a sigh, lingering as she stares down at the bronze knob. When reality finally hits her again, she averts her gaze back to me and smiles – it mirrors the smile in the photograph.

She begins walking again, her back facing me as she walks down the hall. I follow slowly, taking in all the rooms, their doors open, revealing what they have to hide with ease. It takes a guest room, a work room, an exercise room, an extra room and a library before Amelia finally stops at closed, white door. Her hand pushes it open, the hinges creaking.

She moves quickly, her body slipping in and forgetting to turn on the lights as she pushes aside shoes, magazines and burned CD’s. I take in her maroon walls, her framed posters and the black furniture as I walk in slowly. I can’t help but wonder how many times Tom has been in here, how many times he’s laid in her bed, sat in her desk chair and messed with her stuff.

My lagging footsteps lead me to her queen sized bed and I let myself sit upon the plush mattress as I look about. On her nightstand sits a single lamp, a bottle of water, a bottle of Advil and a picture of her and Tom. I keep my eyes on the picture until I feel the mattress sink in behind me.

Before I know it, Amelia’s hands are on my shoulders as she stands on her knees but leans down and whispers, “Is it everything you thought it’d be?”

A smirk takes over my face as I turn slightly, one of my arms sliding around her waist and slowly laying down. Her body takes its place beside me as she props her head up on her hand, her other hand sweeping some of the hair in my eyes away, “It’s better than I though’ it’d be.”

“Oh, really? And would you like to explain to me how so?” She asks faintly as she focuses her gaze on my lips and her hand begins caressing my jaw. I stare up at her adoringly as I try to find the right words.

“I never expected teh be here, layin’ in yeh bed with yeh,” I found myself saying, the words new on my tongue but sounding so cliché and trite in my ears, “Admirin’ the way the moonlight brightens yeh pretty face perfectly, makin’ yeh even more breathtakin’ then before.”

A noticeable pink washes over her cheeks again as she closes her eyes for a moment, her smile growing though she tries to fight it back modestly. When she opens them again, she looks me dead in the eyes and lowers her head, her hair brushing against my cheek a little as she presses her smooth lips against mine.

I bring her body down on mine, my hands finding themselves content on the small of her back. One of her hands lays on the bed, steadying herself as her other arm wraps around my neck. I deepen the kiss, my tongue slipping effortlessly into her mouth, exploring, her sweet taste making my every sense soar with extreme satisfaction.

I roll over, letting my body fall on top of hers as my hands slide up her sides, the cloth of her dress rising with it. It takes only a matter of moments before the barrier of cloth and thread falls onto the floor. Our lips reconnect, my hands caressing the new regions of soft skin. Her hands grasp my shoulders tenderly before sliding off the thin material of my hoodie. I tear it off without removing my lips from hers, tossing it somewhere in the room before letting my hands fall back to her hips.

Her hands slide from my biceps down to my forearms before they reach out and grasp my shirt and begin tugging it off. Unwillingly, I pull away from the kiss again and help her rip my shirt off, letting it join in with my hoodie and her dress. I don’t hesitate to unbuckle my belt and whip it off too; eager to take off anything that stops me from getting all of Amelia to myself.

After the thud of the belt comes, hitting the floor, Amelia pulls down my head down, our lips acting like magnets and falling together magically. Her hands comb through my hair, tugging gently at the ends, before sliding down my back. They reach the waist line of my jeans before slipping forward and messing with the button. It takes her a moment until she gets it, the zipper sliding down as she pulls on the sides. She doesn’t bother trying to take them off though, her hand brushing lightly against my crotch, making me shudder a bit as they retreat back to my shoulders.

My hands remove themselves from her small, comfortable hips and begin tugging down the jean material glued onto my legs. It takes what seems to be forever until they’re off. I toss them to the side, my hands instantly falling back onto her body, crawling up her sides and slipping behind her back to the hook of her bra. I look her in the eyes as my fingers fumble to undo the lock, my lips itching to be back on hers. She stares back, not stopping me, the look in her eyes seeming just as needy as I am at this point.

When the hook finally gives up and comes undone, I remove the material immediately, revealing more of Amelia than I had ever seen. With a flick of my wrist, the bra falls to the floor soundlessly as I let my eyes fall over her.

Under the moonlight, her soft skin glows. Her dark hair is sprawled out over the pillows, her innocent eyes overtaken by a lustful stare. I don’t think I’ve ever found her more attractive than she is now; exposing all her secrets as her hip bones jut out and her insecurities seem so far away, like all she can focus on is me. I really wouldn’t have it any other way.