Obsessed by Ever Lilac

 

 

 

6

 

 

Stanmore

 

Looking down at those green eyes, my heart jolts.She knows? Can’t be. I doubt she would have thrown herself into my arms had she known. Yes, Amber is bold but she doesn’t seek out danger. 

“Who?” I ask, my arms hardening around her, so hard that she lets out a low whimper and I immediately loosen my grip, not wanting to hurt her.

“Think its best if I show you,” she whispers, glancing at me and then her cheeks turn red as if it’s not until now that she realized that we’re walking down the street like a couple, tightly together, looking deep into each other’s eyes.

She tries to put some space between us. But I don’t let her. I can’t. The way she clung to me when she saw me, did something to me. It ripped me right open, shook me to my core. The way she said my name, the way her fingers dug into my shoulders, the way her eyes shone with a light that said,

I trust you.

What would she do if she knew it was me? Would she try to fight me?

Something inhumane stirs in me. She could try...

“Stan?” she says, jerking me out of my thoughts and I look down at her and she shivers when I stroke her back.

“Yes,” I say gently and she licks her lips, brushing some hair off her forehead.

“What were you doing out?”

I circle my fingers around her lower back, leisurely massaging her to make her relax and it seems to work because the worry in her eyes that was there before, starts to fade.

“Woke up, saw you were gone and figured you’d gone out for a run and I wanted to join you.”

Lie. It pains me having to tell them, but it’s necessary. I can’t tell her the truth. That I followed her as soon as she left the house, that I watched her as she ran like a prey and that thoughts I shouldn’t have started playing in my head.

Thoughts about how easy it would have been to lie in wait, take her by surprise, move her down to the ground and attack her sweet throat with my teeth. Keep her under my control.

Those thoughts...

They sickened me. They excited me. 

Just like my obsession with her both sickens and excites me. I’ll never fully be able to accept it unless she does it too.

“Oh,” she murmurs, shaking her head, “I’m happy you were there at least. I was about to crawl out of my skin for a second there.”

Fuck, I never meant to frighten her. Never meant for her to feel me. But just like me, she’s an animal and she can feel her surroundings. She could tell she was being hunted.

She still is. Only that now she’s not running. Because she trusts me.

“Are you okay?” she suddenly asks and I want to kiss her mouth. “You’re frowning?”

I make an effort to smooth out my features, trying to appear normal again but it’s harder now. The façade is slipping. I don’t know for how much longer I’ll be able to keep it up.

Until she gives into you.

How long will that take? Weeks, months, years? However long, I can wait.

“What was it that you wanted to show me?” I rasp and she nods, opening the front door and I walk in behind her. A neighbor is watching us from his garden, watering his flowers and my lips pull over my teeth.

Sooner or later, I’m going to have to get Amber out of here. Away from prying eyes.

Kicking off her running shoes, she tiptoes over to the closet in the hallway and then she rummages through it for a good while, until she finally pulls out a shoebox.

It’s wrapped with floral paper, looking like the kind of thing a young girl would keep her diary in. That’s what she wants to show me?

“In the kitchen,” she murmurs and I follow and she puts the box on the table. Taking a deep breath and watching me with wary eyes, she opens the box and I freeze.

There they are. What I’ve been looking for. The thing I’ve searched her whole house after.

Letters.

All the letters that I wrote to her. She read them, she even kept them.

The notion makes me so hard, my legs go numb, my muscles straining and my mouth goes dry. But I hide my reaction to her, pretending to be aloof.

“This is what I wanted you to see,” she says, picking up the letters and she spreads them over the table. Her eyes are a little feverish, her hands trembling. “I started getting them a couple of months of ago and they’re pretty...” she bites her lip, “intense.”

My eyes go to hers, her own ones not revealing how she feels about the intensity. “Is that good or bad?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, her fingers sliding over one of the envelopes. “The tone in them is so extreme. There’s been times when I’ve read them that I’ve started trembling and then I can’t stop for hours.”

I immediately start imagining her doing that. Reading those letters, then climbing up into her bed, wearing only underwear and riding the waves that my words give her.

“I have no idea who’s writing them, he signs them of saying The Admirer and that’s it.”

The one who’s writing them is standing in her kitchen. And he was allowed in freely. He was welcomed.

“He sends me roses too. Two dozen, red ones after every concert.”

“And you think it was The Admirer who chased after you in the forest?” I say in a soft voice.

She looks at me helplessly. “I don’t know. Maybe. Do you think that’s farfetched?”

I clear my throat. “I don’t think that whoever wrote those letters would want to scare you.”

“Really?” she shrugs, rubbing her arms, picking up a letter. “But listen to what some of them say.”

Amber reads me a couple of lines and I remember writing them, my need for her putting me in a trance , destroying me and nourishing me at the same time.

When she finishes reading, she looks at me with glassy eyes. “That’s not normal, right? Normal people don’t think like that. They don’t feel those things, The Admirer feels.”

“Maybe not,” is all I reply, my voice strained and she shudders, her lower lip trembling.

“I don’t know why I kept them. I shouldn’t have.”

My fists clench. “Why did you? Why didn’t you throw them away?”

Her shoulders shrug frailly. “When I feel bad, I read them. They pull me up. His words nourish me.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “But it feels like they could destroy me too.”

Never! I heatedly yank her to my chest and she bursts out into tears. Never destroy. Only keep. And love and cherish in the only way that I can. Her whole body is on edge, her tears sipping through my clothes and a roaring wave of self-hate that I’ve never felt before, cuts in me.

How the fuck could I have written her those words? I should have taken more care, should have known they were going to be too much for her.

“I will burn those letters for you,” I murmur against her hair, “Rip them in pieces one by one.”

“N...no,” she stutters, sounding a little alarmed, “that’s not why I’m crying.”

I frown, cradling her to let her know she’s beloved. “Then why?”

“It’s just a lot right now. With the concert that’s tomorrow and...”

“You will be fine,” I say, stroking her back. “Don’t worry that pretty, little head. I’m here now.”

“You’ll be sitting in the audience tomorrow won’t you? Just like you promised?”

I pull away a little to look at her as she peers up at me. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Our eyes hijack, neither of us blinking. I feel her in every part of me. The good ones, the ugly ones. And they’re all hers.

In her hands they are bearable. She smooths the edges, easing the suffering. When she buries her face against my chest again, the pain in my shaft turns unbearable and I place a tender kiss against her temple.

She tenses but I don’t stop, tracing my mouth down her cheek, jawline, loving the powder soft skin. A pulse flutters on her throat and I catch it, crushing it like the wings of a butterfly. It’s a warning, a gentle reminder of my true nature.

To my relief she responds, tilting her head to the side, voluntarily giving me more access.

My eyes flare. All mine, you don’t even know what you’re doing.

Her innocence makes me want to protect her from myself, but the other part of me won’t allow me. It will starve without her, already hungry, greedy. Ferocious.

Pull away, Amber. Pull away before it’s far too late...

The first touch of her tongue against mine, feels like a lash of fiery whip. I go from infernal hot to an icy cold, then back again. I’m in her mouth, I can taste her, I swallow her. She moans, stopping my heart for a second and I eat her mouth harder, needing to hear more of those sounds.

The kiss grows frantic, out of control. I feel undead. She’s inside me now, lapping at me in rapid strokes, pumping my veins full with her poison and I pull back, my eyes shuddering.

“Fuck, you make me feel alive,” I groan, staring up at the ceiling with hooded eyes and I feel like a fiend getting his crucial dose of goodness.

“Stan, I want more,” she says, tugging at my t-shirt. “Don’t stop kissing me.”

She likes this. Likes what I can give her.

I kiss her, until my sanity is only hanging by a fine thread and she lets out little pants, her eyes flaring in shock, her mouth starting to burn under mine. I don’t stop, ravished for her. I don’t stop, not until she begs me to and when she pulls away, her lips look aching, her skin flushed and she wipes her mouth with her sleeve.

Rubbing my lips with my fingers, I savor the taste of her, before giving her a long look.

“Why did you end it?” I want to punish her for pulling away. For taking away what’s mine.

Her eyes dart and she whispers, “Had to.” Straightening she says in a clearer voice. “I thought I was going to...”

“What?”

She swallows, looking lost. “Lose myself.”

In my chest, my heart expands. Lost for me, when I am already so lost in her? We’ll find ourselves in each other.

Reaching my hand out, I murmur, “Come here.”

Amber hesitates and I don’t like it. I want her to come to me whenever I tell her to. No doubts. No questions. Nothing but surrender.

Clasping my hand in hers, she says, “Can we make it a little less intense this time?”

Slower. That’s all she asks from me. And I’m going to have to adjust even if I want to break her in pieces.

“Anything for you, all mine,” I say against her lips and they pull into a smile when I sit down, dragging her into my lap and we kiss like I don’t have something clawing at my chest, needing to be let out.

I kiss her carefully, making her sigh and she digs her fingers into my short hair, her little body warm and safe against mine. I’ll satiate her. Slake whatever she needs me to slake.

She’s happy now. Comforted by my ability to rein myself in. For now she wants something normal.

I can be that for her. Act like a goody two shoes. Be a normal boyfriend.

For now...