Now I just want you to know, how I'm touched deep in my soul
Just being with you…
"Get Smart" is on and my window is open, but I don't look at either. My forearms rest on the fold-down tray we have here in the Coach section and I gaze only at the screen of the phone in my fingers.
I gaze at picture after picture of her… I began taking them frequently after the first date. Her eyes, the back of her head, her lips, her collar bones, a thigh, a face, a smile, a pout. I pause at one in particular, of her face relaxed and tranquil, eyes closed. She's asleep. It's pretty dark and the angle the moonlight shines down on her at is almost eerie, but it's of the first time we fell asleep with each other, a vivid memory. I'm not touching her, but I soon learned I didn't have to.
I adjusted to having Miley around every day immediately, practically the day I got to Tennessee. It refined the idea of me visiting my aunt and uncles'. And now I have to go back to the way things were; but the thing is, I'm not going back home the same. Everything… has changed.
At first, I wanted nothing but to touch Miley. I wanted to feel her velvet-smooth skin and the muscle and bone and flesh beneath it. She was real and there and heaven for my hands and fingertips. But almost like an atom, all the mass was in the nucleus—her mind. I also wanted to know every thought Miley had, I wanted to know every opinion Miley had ever concurred; I wanted to know what made Miley tick. I didn't want sex. I wanted, as female-ish as this is, to appreciate. To know.
And that's exactly what I did.
"Are you bored?" I ask her, in a sweet, soft voice that's only reserved for her.
"No, relaxed," she says through a smile proving her true.
You ever wonder what your heaven will look like? I used to, every other night or so. Before summer.
But now I know for sure what I'll rapidly ascend towards when I leave this life: My back against a huge tree truck in the shade of an unusually breezy Tennessee summer afternoon, with the sight of lime green, glowing leaves sputtering into a cornflower blue sky and casting a patchy, jagged blanket of shadow to us mortals on the grassy floor.
I'll find myself sunken down against this tree and only this tree with Miley's head resting on my waist, her face angled towards the sky and her eyes closed. She sighs peacefully every now and then. My fingers are threading through her hair, my nails make circles on her scalp and I wouldn't have it any other way. I'd have pushed anyone else off of me when my arm got tired, which occurred a while ago, but serenading Miley is so worth it.
We're in a mini-meadow. We're past the grass and tiny, pretty-colored wildflowers we once rode across on her horses. We aren't in the woods, though, but against a large, perfect tree at the edge of it with roots that come out of the flattened, also overgrown grass like arm rests.
Her eyes are closed, her lashes, dark and curled with no mascara, appeal to me greatly. The things that make girls, girls are the things that drive me crazy about this girl in my lap.
Her face is spotted with blotches of sunlight bleeding through our umbrella of leaves overhead.
I don't care what I've seen of Miley before; this is the most beautiful I've seen her so far.
And her hair beneath my finger tips… god, her hair is so soft and tamed and glossy that I can barely feel it spiraling around my nails anymore. Does that make sense?
"So." Miley's voice is croaky and far-off when she finally decides to break the comfortable silence we swim in.
"So." I mirror, and my eyes are all over her face. Her eyelashes part and reveal the most stunning swirl of, I don't know, thin bronze explosions around her pupils, then a mint green, blue jay blue, and charcoal gray outline, in an instant blooming-flower fashion. Miley's eyes are prettier than any flower, no matter what day or mood or color. So fascinating… I will never get tired of looking into them.
She stares up at me. She looks so innocent as she blinks, twice, head in my lap, eyes into my brain. Just gazes all the way inside of me, she knows what she does, but with that face you'd never know so…
"We're playing twen'ny questions," Miley informs me. I love when we play that. Could this get better?
I nod my head and continue to stare at her. My tailbone is stabbing into the hard tree at this awkward angle I'm hovering over Miley at.
I'm so engrossed. So engrossed.
Miley's lips upturn into a grin, the kind that makes her eyes all squinty. I want to kiss her.
Oh, wait. I can.
I hunch over even more, the back of my hot pink t-shirt that says Roxy across the chest in white letters riding up so the tree bark is beginning to scrape me. It's nearly surreal when I open my eyes and I'm so close I can see her pores, similar to seeing craters on the surface of the moon, in that close-up shot, but certainly not of the same texture. My left hand sits on my lap, buried in her silk hair.
I press my lips to hers perpendicularly. Just a peck. I pull back, so happy, unbelievably, ridiculously happy from the tiny, little action.
That felt so good. So clean and free and good!
I sit back against the tree. Miley looks up at me, lazy smile on her face and then she opens her eyes but not quite as wide as before.
"When did y' realize y' liked me?" Miley asks, and her voice is just so gravelly I almost kiss her again, but her question is insanely intriguing and I want to answer it, badly.
My eyes scan over the wildflowers in front of us as I think back.
When was it? The side of her house after playing football with my cousins? The stalls, realizing we were designed to be friends? Playing chicken that first time?
Oh, right, it was at Wendy's!
"I realized I was attracted to you that time you bought me food at Wendy's." My hand raises and begins massaging Miley's scalp again. The items in my torso tighten and tangle as she takes in a slow blink that I can totally relate to.
I think about this often, but is this what liking someone feels like? Because it's so real compared to everything prior. I've had crushes before. On guys. That's liking.
…What is this?
"Hm, of course it would involve food…" She says offhandedly, grinning, gazing at me. "Your turn."
"When did you realize you liked me?" I really want to know. I want to know Miley's entire side of this, more than I want to know where I'll go when I die or why I'm here or who the first of us was.
"Two days after we met."
I rear back a little. "What?"
She breaks her stare on me, gazes up at the sunlight that shines down on her.
"How?" I'm shocked at the least.
"Well… We met. As y' know. And I was happy that I had someone to hang out with," I know that feeling, I was miserable at the start of this vacation, "and then I was thinkin' about… how pretty you are. And how bad I wan'ed to get to know you. I knew I was attracted to you. I couldn't get you outta my head."
"Was I the first girl you ever liked?"
"Ah, ah, ah, Queenie," I forgot about our nicknames, somehow, "one question at a time."
I chuckle. "Okay, okay." I sigh, and my back relaxes and melts into the tree.
I can't believe she's liked me this entire time…
"Alright," Miley says, and suddenly things get all serious and tense, "that time, on your hammock, on the—uh—Fourth of July," we haven't talked about that night since we made up, "weren't you about to kiss me?"
I feel my cheeks heat up significantly. I no longer get hot and sweaty and generally uncomfortable to the point where I know it's not the summer heat when I'm in Miley's presence; but this makes me blush. "Yes."
"Why'd you—" She's urgent, her back muscles even tense up.
I hold up an index finger. "You know the rules, stingray," I interject, "one at a time."
Miley relaxes, and sighs, and chuckles, and she is without a doubt perfectly imperfect perfection. Even her flaws, I love.
"What? What? What's wrong?" Miley is off my lap immediately. She sits against my other leg. She's very up in my face—very urgent.
"I—um…" Should I tell her?
"What?" She implores.
I realize I must look like I'm having a heart attack. I breathe and crack a smile, on auto-pilot. "I, uh, I thought I left the toaster on."
Miley squints her eyes disbelievingly at me and lays back into my lap. She grabs my hand, her own soft and hot, and deposits it on her head. Like a zombie, I play with the chestnut locks, though the gesture makes my heart smile, let alone my mouth.
Love? Love. Love. Love?!
Jesus Christ… is that it? Can I say that after two and a half months? Not even… love… what…?
But it fits so perfectly. I love Miley. I imagine telling people about Miley, and the words 'I love that girl' are right there in the scenario. The number one ingredient to it, actually.
"Okay, ask me another one."
"Why did you kiss me in the creek, on July Fourth?" I spit out. I kissed her on the cheek, but she kissed me on the lips and I always wonder why.
She looks at me, and she answers softly, "Because I couldn't stop myself."
I blink. I don't want to hold Miley's mistakes against her: not wanting this beautiful thing we have right here, and kissing me and then rejecting me only to take me later. Putting me through that was messed up, and as happy as I am right now with her in my arms I'm still a little mad about it. I don't want to hold Miley's mistakes against her but I just can't help it.
"Why didn't you kiss me on your hammock?"
"Why does it matter? We ended up kissing anyway" I say somewhat bitterly. The mood is altered suddenly; from breezy and silently ecstatic and overly-content to dramatic and frustrating.
"I dunno, I was always just curious as to why you turned away."
"You turned away. I was checking to see if anyone was coming."
"Oh. Are you mad? Why're you mad?"
I sigh, and rest my head back against the tree, eyes closed. "That was two questions at once," I mumble. I feel stressed, and it doubles when Miley sits up in my lap and peers straight into my face and her brow is drawn together in confusion, as cute as it is.
"Lilly…" Miley says in a completely new, different voice. One that's under her breath and makes me keep my eyes closed. "In all seriousness, what I did was horrible. And I'll always be sorry for it. But I… can't be sorry for asking for you back, 'cause of what we have now. I messed up, but at least we got here."
How could you not want this? Even for a few days? How long did you know you didn't want this and were planning on leading me on… "Yeah. You're right."
I jump a little bit when I feel her breath on my lips as she says, "But, I am darn sorry whether ya honestly do or don't …" The rounding of her lips are now brushing against mine, and the gentleness affects me instantly. A breeze skirts along my arms and she presses a kiss to my lips, the second time she's ever kissed me, but the first time she's kissed me to show me meaning. It's short and soft and I nod slowly when she pulls away.
"So, that time we 'accidentally kissed' in the mud…" I begin lowly.
Miley chuckles. "Fate, I swear it."
And I grin, and I can't be angry anymore because Miley's sorry and I see that I can't help but forgive her, no matter what she ever does wrong, because I care so much about her.
This tree has probably skirted past my vision at least a dozen times since my relationship with Miley developed; but never would I have guessed I was seeing the place where I will realize, for the first time, that I love Miley.
I put me and Miley's dishes in the sink and she's in front of me going up the stairs. I watch her hips sway. She's wearing denim shorts and a plain, dark red t-shirt that compliments her curves and color tones.
"I hate you so much," I say earnestly through a chuckle after a moment.
"Who, me?" She says, tossing a cheesy grin that makes my heart shoot into my windpipe over her shoulder.
"Uh, yeah, you. I didn't run my fingers all over your legs during every suggestive, romantic scene in Hercules…"
Miley just chuckles. "No, you didn't."
And I huff, mockingly. I couldn't possibly be upset right now, when Miley's going to spend the night. In fact, I'm unnecessarily giddy and excited.
A) We've never had a sleepover. B) I have this desire to… I don't know, hold her and go to sleep. It's just this strange, itching need I saw displayed in a movie and ever since wanted to try.
I lead her into my room and after I take two steps inside, Miley shuts my door and locks it.
I turn around to her, brow raised. She's looking at me, like there's nothing else in this room or in this world, and it makes my veins pump a different kind of blood. I gaze at her stepping closer through hazy, hooded eyes and a serious, solemn feeling rises in me.
Her lips slam into mine, and her hands curl around the back of my head and neck, and my eyes almost pop out of my head. The room, where did it go? Am I standing, am I sitting? Everything flies away the moment she, Miley, gorgeous Southern girl across the street of my aunt and uncles' house I fell for in two weeks slips a slick, supple, hot tongue between my lips…
"I knew I was attracted to you. I couldn't get you outta my head."
Her hands slide down to my hips and she walks me back into the bed. The one I've spent so many sleepless, sweat-coated nights with her bright in mind on. The backs of my knees hit it but before I get the chance to sit us down, Miley shoves me down flat lightly but hastily.
Her tongue circulates my mouth, slides against my cheek, her breath and taste is of the fruit punch she just drank.
And suddenly its all gone, my mouth feels so empty without her prodding around in it, but then she relocates on my neck and I'm wondering where exactly this is coming from.
Everyone has a spot or two, and I think Miley knows she's found my first when she plants her mouth in the middle of my jugular. Instantly my breathing sounds like an accelerating train, racketing almost out of control but not quite. I can't help the sounds that come from the back of my throat, not that I want to. In a way, they relieve the pressure building up.
"Damn…" I manage to shell out, "Where'd this come from?" It's honestly extremely difficult to speak with Miley trailing her lips up and down my neck.
She separates from me, the warm, wet contact is missed, "Let me just say… you ridin' a horse is quite intriguing…" which we were doing earlier.
I chuckle through the nose and Miley makes a sigh-infused "mmh…" against my throat. She's really… wow…
Miley switches to the other side of my neck that is itching for her and after kissing it twice, her tongue runs along me, and I sound like a breathy, stuck CD.
Miley lays with her legs half on mine, but she shimmies them open and rests between them and although she's pushing right above where I really want her to push against, the position drives me crazy.
My hands cup her hips with barely any pressure. I brush them along the empty belt loops of her shorts, further down to her upper thighs and I think I feel her shiver. I fidget and the dampness between my legs becomes apparent to me, to the point where I think it's through my Soffee shorts. My last boyfriend did this thing to me once… I take my nails and skim them with slight pressure around the butt pockets of Miley's shorts.
Her tongue ceases its motion and her waist is pushing me relentlessly into the bed. Her back is arched and I want to feel. I trail one hand up and continue my ministrations with my other hand. Her skin is milky smooth and moist with sweat. I trail my nails up, up, into the dipping dent of her back and I rub from side to side and truly feel just how slim she is. Every muscle in her back is strained, hard as rock, yet her skin is so malleable…
She exhales through her nose and makes another noise in the back of her throat that hits me straight to where she's now pressing against. She attaches her lips to my jugular again, and trails down, down, to my shoulder muscle. She pulls and sucks and bites and licks rhythmically, almost savagely, she's practically attacking me but it's the best I've ever had.
All I hear is my breathing, every few breaths I say "Miley" or "God" which is funny in a sense because it's as if they're synonyms in my eyes, and now I'm unashamedly beginning to rock against her, she's hitting the exact spot I need her to in this position, and my nails grate through her skin and into her back tissue.
Suddenly, a sound that doesn't come from me or Miley jumps into the moment; loud pounding on my wooden door.
"What?!" I shout angrily, as Miley freezes.
"Come watch Horton!" I hear a child's voice say, I think its Lorrie.
I growl, on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum, and I think I feel Miley jerk against me a little. "But we just watched Hercules!"
I sigh harshly. "Alright, we'll be down in a sex—I mean, sec!" I cringe at my mix-up, as Miley chuckles lightly against my skin and begins to kiss her way up to my ear. I'm sure there's a huge, unavoidable hickey I'm going to need to hide but that thought just makes my stomach twist in excitement and happiness.
I keeping thinking Miley will pull away, but after a minute I force out, "Aren't we, uh… going down—downstairs?" God, I never stutter.
She chuckles again, right in my ear, almost maliciously, devilishly and it's maybe the sexiest thing I've ever heard, scratch every other chuckle she's ever made, and says, "Not yet," and I shiver from the chills that roll down my spine. I doubt we'll get out of this bed at all, because unfortunately even my adorable baby cousin's request could pry me from paradise, as gluttonous and greedy as that is.
She works my shirt off, and although I've been shirtless in front of Miley before, I've never been under her as she undressed me, and then gazed at me like a starving man to a piece of meat. That's half of how she's treating me, not that I really mind, because I know I treat her that way sometimes. I just don't understand, exactly, what she sees, to be completely honest, what I possibly have that she looks for in a mate. I have so much to ask her, I discover as I look in her hooded, navy eyes, darkened like magic. Although I know all the small stuff about Miley and parts of her side on what's happened between us, I don't know many of her opinions as an intellectual.
And if I weren't throbbing and ticking right now, I'd be working those things out of her. As much as I want to know what's stored under those clothes and behind those lips, I also want to know what's stored behind those cobalt eyes, in that mind.
"We're going out of order," I whisper, shakily.
"What? Not enough foreplay?" She responds high-pitched, as her eyes stop raking my naked torso, besides my bra, and meet my own eyes.
I laugh. "No, no… Okay, you know I'm soaked right now, you know I want to do this with you… but… there's so much I feel like I don't know. It wouldn't feel right just yet. We've spent practically every minute together since I got here, but I just… well, I just want to talk to you."
Miley pulls back. Her cheeks are hot pink blotches in the dim light of my night table, her lip line is all red.
She searches my face with frenzied eyes. She seems to release a breath shortly as if she didn't realize she was holding it in.
"We talk," she debates.
"Lately, just with our hands. And mouths. Ever since we admitted our feelings for each other. I like how it was earlier this afternoon, but instead of talking about you and me for once, I just want to hear about you."
Miley's brows raise, then lower. She looks to my left, nods slowly, flops off of me and lands not far beside me in the narrow twin bed. After shifting, she is on her side with her elbow submerged in the pillow and her head meeting her palm.
"What do you want to hear?"
"I want to hear…" I consider this, I think, think back, and then I find the perfect question. "Do you think everything happens for a reason?"
Miley's eyes kind of widen, and then her trade mark, half grin appears, and I actually begin throbbing, everywhere at the gesture.
I try to exhale, but I accidentally moan in the back of my throat and Miley looks at me strangely.
"Sorry," I snicker, and when she's still staring at me skeptically, I point loosely at my mouth. "I enjoy watching you smirk crookedly," I provide.
"It's alright. I enjoy watching you resurface out of a body of water with yer head tilted back." My eyes pop open. "Anyway, yes, I believe everything happens for a reason."
"Why did you ask me that when we were on my skateboard that one time?"
She grins, almost sheepishly. She's so cute…
"You're so cute," I say under my breath. It's almost creepy-sounding when it meets my ears because it's so serious.
Her grin melts into something more serious, and she thanks me quietly.
She clears her throat and speaks. "I asked you, because… I dunno, I had these crazy feelings for you and at the same time I felt like we could talk about anything. I guess I wan'ed to know what you thought, regardless of the question pertainin' to an attraction towards you. Y'know?"
"Mhm. So… for what reason do you think this all happened?"
"I have this… theory," she glances emptily at my chest and I realize I'm shirtless, but I don't feel like breaking this gaze and walking across the room to where Miley tossed my shirt. "I told you a little bit… Well, I think you came here this year so we could meet. I think you were outside playin' football with your cousins that afternoon and I was walkin' around the side of my house when you finally came over for a reason. It was like that for a reason. You were all tan and sweaty and covered with dirt but still ridiculously gorgeous for a reason. I know the reasons fer some things, but not all of them; the biggest thing bein' why, exactly, we met."
She's complicated. Miley is complicated and philosophical and I want to hear every damn philosophy she has.
"Well, you're quite the shallow thinker…" I mumble, gazing at her in awe.
She chuckles. "Didn't think backwoods country girls could do that thinkin' thang, did ya?"
"Ah, I'm just kiddin'."
"But you're not. When are you going to realize I find your accent and toned body nature knowledge attractive? I don't care where you're from. Why do you?"
"Because, Lilly, honestly? I can't figure out why you're attracted to me. You're gorgeous and funny and adventurous and courageous and intelligent and sweet and are way, way more than a great catch. I don't know, I guess when we met I was a little intimidated by you…"
"You… were intimidated… by me?" I kind of pressed for air from the irony.
"Yes. The beautiful California girl with big blue eyes and on-point pronunciation that's probably never seen an evergreen in her life yet falls in love with nature the first chance she gets—you."
I smile. "Why are you so intrigued by my nature-loving conversion?"
"It's just something I can appreciate."
Miley speaks looking straight into my eyes and her words are embedded into my mind and soul. Now I know. I know about her.
But she really needs to know about me.
"I think I need to explain to you, very thoroughly, why I'm so obsessed with you."
"Yeah, not to freak you out, but, obsessed."
"Oh, that doesn't freak me out. If you're obsessed, I wanna know what the heck that makes me."
I chuckle. "That. Let's start with that. Your sense of humor is so… practical, yet sarcastic, yet playful, yet flirty… it's very unique and it turns me on," I inform her.
"You really do keep an eye on me."
"Yes, I wish you knew just how many nights I've actually fallen asleep in this friggin' bed because I prefer thinking about you."
She grins. I want to stare at Miley's face, but right now I want to listen to her voice a little bit more.
I lay my head on the pillow and Miley follows. Her forehead presses to the side of my head, above my ear, and her arm slings across my stomach.
I continue to talk. I tell her everything, even though I really only want to hear everything—from her. But I realize Miley probably wants to hear the same so that's what I'll give her.
I tell Miley about her eyes, her lips, the way she makes me feel, the things she does, just about everything.
And when I'm done my increasingly passionate rant, I don't see her smile, but feel her smile, and then I tell her about the ones before her that even added together couldn't compare to what's lying right beside me.
"So… Travis was in love with you?"
"Pretty much. But like I said, I think it was 'cause of me bein' his childhood sweetheart and nothin' happenin' to ruin it."
It's now 1:04 AM, four and a half hours have passed, and I've learned so much about Miley it almost makes the blood in my veins burn brighter for her, yet doesn't quite change my view on her. The things I have learned haven't changed my view; just shaped it a little more.
"I'm guessing you ended it when you changed schools"
"Yeah. He was crushed, but he understood. I never told him that my feelings for him just… died out. And I had a few flings here and there in the past few years, but nothing serious. You're my first serious… whatever we are, since Travis."
I lift myself over her and stare down at her, elbow northwest of her head. "What are we?" I say lowly. "I never really wanted to ask, I'm afraid of the answer…" We've been being bitingly honest, not to mention sentimental with each other all night and I don't want to break the trend just yet.
"What do you want us to be, Lilly?"
"What do you want us to be?"
She bites her lip. "I know I want you to be mine and only mine. And I want to be yours. For as long as I can make it so. So if you want that too…"
I lean down and press my lips to her forehead. "I do."
"How does this work? Should I ask you to be my girlfriend?"
I pause. "Jeez… girlfriend… never would I have guessed I'd want a girlfriend."
"Yeah, same here. It's funny how we're in the same boat with that," she says, and I nod. She's never liked a girl before me but was beginning to question things when all of her previous relationships weren't doing anything for her.
"Do we even need to put a label on this, Miley?"
"No, but… when I go back t' school, and someone asks me if I have a boyfriend, what do I say?"
"I'm taken. That's all you say. Would you feel weird telling them if it's by another girl?"
"…No," she says after a long pause in which I'm pressed for air. I inhale and sigh with relief. "Because the girl is you."
It makes me smile because it comes from Miley. And also because I feel the exact same way.
"So, we're both taken. I like that."
"Me too. It's gonna be hard, Lilly…"
"It is, but… winter and spring break, we can spend together. And random weekends I can save up to fly out."
"Yeah, me too."
"Then maybe we can go to a school near each other after high school, and eventually move in together."
"You really thought 'bout this…" Miley says, staring seriously into my eyes.
"I've only been thinkin' about the rest of this summer and everything but sayin' goodbye."
"It's not really goodbye, Miley… it's definitely a see you later. Remember that."
It's 4:49 AM and I'm all wrapped up in Miley's voice and thoughts. Our voices are far past worn out and croaky. I especially like how hers sounds.
We lay tangled in each other liked aged vines. Legs between legs, arms encasing each other like an oxygen supply at the floor of the sea.
"…And that's when I learned that you need to love yourself before you can love anything else."
Miley has… countless good morals. Countless childhood memories she's passed on to me. Frightful ones, nauseating ones, heart-warming ones. So many ideas and thoughts that make her as beautiful inside as she is outside. And to think, there's so much I still don't know.
"I feel like I know you now. Not that I didn't before, but you know what I mean. I love how you trust me with all of this."
"Of course I do," she rasps. Then lowly, almost cautiously, she adds, "I love you, Lilly."
My eyes open wide, even though they sting slightly only since it's far past midnight. Its silent, finally, no voices that sound so loud in the small hours of morning bounce off the walls. Instead, the room is stiff and tense despite neither of our bodies have the energy to be.
"You don't have to say it back." Miley is completely calm. She means it.
"I love you, too. I kind of just realized today, but… I guess I shouldn't wait to tell you anything anymore. Especially after… well, tonight."
"What, after this talk? T' be honest," what ever comes out of Miley's mouth after the words 'T' be honest' makes me feel like a shaken up bottle of soda, my skin the plastic. Only good follows after those words, even before tonight. "I always felt so close to you. Since the moment I saw you."
"Yeah, I felt it too. This definitely happened for a reason. I think we were destined to be together." It's a large statement but it's been swimming around in my head for a while, if not right at this moment.
"Agreed. So… today?"
"Yeah. When we were sitting in that tree in your backyard."
"Your heaven?" she teases lightly around a lazy chuckle, quoting what I told her about an hour ago. Usually at this hour, I'd snap at that chuckle, but as I said, I'm just not horny for her physically right now; only mentally… if that makes sense.
"Yep. I was beginning to get angry with you, but then you kissed me and, as pathetic as this is, I couldn't stay angry."
"Well, I am a figure of higher being. The bearer and controller of your emotions," She's practically delusional and it's adorable and quite amusing. Her arms drawing my bare hips and lower back disappear and I find them over her head as she yawns. I must admit, as her body tenses and arches up, in which I take my weight off of her momentarily, I do feel an aching, yearning throb in my stomach. But I let it subside.
"I just wanna fall asleep with you," she says around a grin I hear. "This is so crazy… I guess it's kind of weird, but all I've wanted for the past two months was to fall asleep in your scent, sharing warmth with you."
I'm quiet for a moment, then I begin snickering. To be honest myself, I still can't get over she feels the same. "Oh Miley, just go write another song about me or something. Get things off your chest, already." Earlier she confessed that she's done so multiple times, and she plans to sing them for me soon.
She laughs. "I love you… and I love saying 'I love you'."
My mouth shapes into an even higher grin, the muscles in the bottom half of my face are practically numb by now since I've just been smiling incessantly for the past few hours.
"I love you too, Miley."
Miley sighs heavily and lets out a "hm..". I nuzzle my head into the crook of her neck; her skin is hot and slightly clammy because I've been breathing on it.
I rest my jaw on her collar bone so I can breathe. Her t-shirt I can scarcely see the wine red hue of in the moonlight shining in from above our heads is ridden up slightly, and half of the underside of my arm is on the hem of it, and half is on her warm skin. I lift it and place my fingers on her hip bone, and slide across into the dip of her v-cut (Jesus Christ…) then above where her bladder is, then to the symmetric half of her frankly sexy as hell pelvic muscle, to her other hip bone.
I hope I'm not working her up, I hope I'm only calming her, and I hope she's comfortable as I swallow quietly and slip my fingers beneath her shirt. I feel the canyon of muscles and learn the four sections of her abdomen. I press a kiss to her neck and skim over her belly button. I reach to her opposite side and run my hand up and down her curve. I don't use my nails, just my palm and fingertips.
Is she awake? I lift my head to find her eyes closed and face impossibly peaceful. It seriously makes my heart melt.
Once I'm positive she's asleep, I reach over to my night table and grab my phone. I don't have any pictures of Miley since I deleted that other one. I snap a picture of her face and it's engraved into the memory of my phone as well as my mind.
I place the phone back on the night table and shift back down and press my ear close to her neck and jugular, the top of my head nestled under her chin. Her breathing is slow and deep.
"I love you, Miley Ray Stewart," I state for the third time in eight minutes.
She doesn't say it back but she doesn't have to.
Boring but meaningful.
I think the chapter after this, or possibly the one after that will be the last. I don't have any ideas, really, for a new story so far, but I'm starting something after this anyway. Or maybe a collaboration could be in order if anyone's interested? Haha idk. Thank you so much for reading and responding, all that do. You all make me feel proud and happy to write. See ya:)