Pieces of a Life

Alex and Leila had become used to each other's company quickly and, in that short period of time, grew to need each other again. The time that had passed between them only seemed to make the two need the other all the more, which was not entirely safe. Leila had the habit of running away when she didn’t know what to do, and Alex had the tendency of putting her in situations where she didn't know what to do. They had eaten their waffles and batted their eyelashes at each other long enough, and that left empty time for some issue to inevitably arise. It wasn't long before it happened, either; Leila had curled up in Alex's lap on the couch and he wrapped his arms around her and blurted, stupidly: "Don't leave again."

She looked up, a frown shadowing her constant deer-in-headlights face. But he didn't take it back. He said, "Promise me you won’t leave again." Leila recoiled and her frown deepened. Alex held her firmly in his lap and relentlessly stared back at her, neither of the two backing down.

They sat there for a few quiet seconds until Leila said, in an unreadable, quiet voice, "You know I can’t do that. Promise you, that is." She wriggled uncomfortably in his lap, but he kept his arms latched around her.

Alex looked at the girl in his lap calculatingly. Leila, flustered, couldn’t decide where was safe to place her gaze and kept glancing back and forth between Alex's face and the cushions of the sofa. His eyes were dark and narrowed and looking at her unhappily. He was analyzing her, because he'd known her nearly his whole life, and yet he still couldn’t figure her out. They'd always been together; they were practically a packaged deal. It was never one without the other. There was something inside the both of them that connected—a lock and a key maybe, or pieces of a puzzle—that wasn't in anyone else. There was something special about the two of them that everyone acknowledged but, for some reason, Leila continued to fight. She could be such a baby sometimes. Alex blinked and kept looking at her. He needed her to stay, and he needed her to need it too.

"Why?" He asked finally. She wouldn't look at him. "Leila. You—you know you're fighting it, but you don't even know what you're fighting anymore. Just stay." He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

Leila tried to pull back again but he continued to hold her face. Her lips turned down. He could feel her breath when she exhaled. "I can't, Alex. You know I can't." She thought she had given him a satisfactory answer and again tried to pull her face away, but had no success. He let her panic for a minute, knowing he could pry a better answer from her. "I can't stay!" She yelped finally, giving him a desperate look. "Alex, I told you; there's nothing for me in Baltimore. The rest of the world has my future. It's not here." He still didn’t let go. "Will you let go of me please?" Leila said miserably.

"No," He replied. She gaped, offended. "I told you before, you're wrong. If there's a future for you anywhere else, there's two hundred times more in Baltimore." He was getting heated. "Just—just stay, Leila! God damn it!" He let go of her face and looked away, frustrated.

Leila watched him be angry for a few seconds, breathing loudly and glaring at a wall, before scooting up in his lap and planting her knees on either side of him. She held his face now and turned it towards her. "Why do you want me to stay so badly?" She whispered. His glaring eyes turned to burn into hers. He gave her an angry stare until he exhaled slowly, blinked, and looked at her again.

He didn't answer her immediately, because his mind was processing many things that wouldn't let him consider a reply. He was very aware of her legs straddling him, her lean and toned legs in obscenely tight jeans, and her face was very close to his. And things had changed between them. Things had changed, and it was true that Leila was his best friend, but it was also true that she was beautiful and he didn't want her to leave. Alex didn't want to overwhelm her, but he did want her to be aware. Because he was certainly aware of her legs and her face and the warmth of her breath when she exhaled; her muscular body and her graceful fingers clutching his jaw and the fact that no matter what happened, they always seemed to stay attached to one another. And her lips. He was very, very aware of her lips.

But he held himself back and met her crystalline doe eyes and simply said, "You're my Leila." A warm smile began to spread across the length of her lips. "You left once. I don't want you to do it again. Or, more importantly," He paused and breathed in. "I don't want you to want to do it again."

You're my Leila. Oh, he'd done it now. She smiled and let go of his face, not knowing what else to do. You're my Leila. She liked that. "I don't know, Alex," she put her arms around him and hugged herself into his torso. "I…I don't know. But," Leila sighed and looked at his face, blue eyes flickering as she glanced over the features she knew so well. "But you've certainly given me something to consider." She murmured.

Leila's body was very tangled in his and he was exercising an impressive amount of self-control, considering how she moved her lips when she spoke and how she stared at him and said "You've given me something to consider." What the fuck did that mean? Leila was always using tricky words. At least she said she'd consider it, that meant he'd made progress. That meant that whatever had undoubtedly changed in Leila was beginning to show. It'd just take a little more work to bring her entirely to the surface. And, honestly, if anyone could do it, Alex was certain he could. To other people, Leila was a project. To Alex, she was simply his. She was his, with her wide eyes and sinewy body and pink lips. Leila was his best friend, and she was lovely and perfect and entirely too much for him to handle. But she was his, and he wasn’t going to let her leave.