Hello everyone! I'm back again... with yet more Hush Hush, haha! Hope you're all still well and kicking! :)
I got this idea in the middle of one of my End Of Year exams. (Ideas always pop up at the weirdest of times, eh?) I actually started this story in one of the five hour breaks between exams, when I was meant to be meditating or socialising or something else my teachers rambled about, but since then, it's been shelved. Dusty. Until I stumbled onto the lovely word document this afternoon and continued it. I like it, it's fun to write!
This story has the same kinda theme tune as When it comes to kissing, practice makes perfect does. (Still LOVING the support for that story, guys! I love you! xx) It's simply frothy, flirty fun. Patch and Nora (minus any parental supervision, hallelujah!) on a sweet little European island together to celebrate a distant friend's wedding. The wedding isn't the focus of the story, it's just the reason why they're there, and it provides characters and unique scenarios.
This story won't have a complicated, twisty plot. It will be just a funny (hopefully), entertaining and sweet account of the different things they do whilst there. If you've any ideas, by all means shoot me (not literally) with them! I am always more than happy to hear what you guys have to say. :)
Give it a shot, please? :D I'd really appreciate it. And if you could leave a review, I would be over the moon! Please, and thank you!
Thank you very much for reading my work. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it for you! :) xxx
(Credit for the picture goes to . Just found it there!)
To say I was tired would be the understatement of the century.
Hesitantly, I fumbled with the silver key of the door, cursing as it slipped from the keyhole three times before successfully unlocking the bolt. The den was shadowed in complete darkness, eerie and deathly silent. I halted in the doorframe for a moment to gnaw on my bottom lip anxiously. Could there someone be hiding? I shook my head in an adamant manner, slowly unclasping my frozen fingers from a fist and leaving the key fall to the hallway table with a hollow echo. As I shrugged out of my jacket, hung it haphazardly across the back of the closest sofa and untangled my curls from my collars, I assured myself that no, there was most certainly not anyone hiding.
They would've killed me by now if there was.
Meandering my fingertips along the wall as I swept by, I flicked the creamy switches of each of the lights and let the residue of agitation unfurl in my chest when the room filled with illumination. The familiar structure and furniture of the room registered pleasantly with my senses, tickling my mind with memories I had of them. Next came my shoes. I braced my palms against the wall and stood on the heel of either one, tugged my foot free and tossed the used, bitty shoe aside. Sighing with the air that only someone plagued with severe exhaustion possessed, I meekly wrestled the top button of my jeans until it popped, the tight denim fabric melting from my legs like hot butter.
Silky black sheets icily greeted my skin as I peeled back the covers of the welcoming double bed and slid between, laying flat on my back with one knee bent in the air. Chest relaxing, my breathing evened and steadied as I sank into the consuming scent of faint mint. It had dwindled over the period of obvious absence. Every muscle of my body was deliciously lax in a matter of seconds, imagination already preparing to spin and weave a dream where a dark, handsome angel would star. Sleeping in the place the angel most frequented, I hoped to lengthen or enhance the dream in order to dull some of the longing which thrummed through my bloodstream. In the latest frothy fantasies, he'd managed to slip through my fingertips a breath before I could get my greedy hands on him. Tonight, I planned for it to be different. Tonight I'd catch him.
In preparation for the wedding of Caroline, who was Vee's cousin, Vee had hauled me from my makeshift bed on her floor the moment a sprinkle of morning sunlight fought to bleed annoyingly through her curtains. Shop after shop after shop we scrounged through, profuse apologies scorching my lips as Vee left a turmoil in the form of piles and clumps of dresses on the floor in her wake. "But Nora!" she'd incessantly whined, balancing on wobbly tiptoes as she gradually did a full three-sixty in the mirror, regarding her reflection with raw, undisguised horror. "It doesn't look right!" Seven hours we sprouted nails to claw meticulously through the racks of unending clothing (frills, laces, bows, hems, cuts, lines, oh my!),when something ridiculously important surfaced in the fog that was her mind. "Oh boy," she had muttered, sinking into the closest available seat, which in fact was not a seat but an ice cream cart. "I forgot."
"Forgot what?" I'd groaned in response, dragging an aching hand down my face. Vee struggled to hide the ghost of a smile as it brushed her amused expression. I cocked a suspicious eyebrow at the remaining sparkle which lingered her eyes. "Did you leave your bag in a shop? Again?"
"No, babe," she answered, the grin returning and tweaking her lips in the corners. She drew to a stand and planted her hands lightly onto my shoulders, rooting me to the spot as if her next words would cause me to shoot away. "I'm one of Caroline's bridesmaids," she said, an entertained glint fleetingly lighting up her eyes before being skewered by my glare.
"And?" I prompted, narrowing my eyes.
"I don't need to buy a dress because she has one for me! Bridesmaids wear the same!"
Frosty-eyed with irritation, I chose this moment to bid an inaudible goodbye and trudge to the one place that I knew would soothe the ache in my chest. Temporarily I might sadly add, because the lonely spot in my heart could only be fully knitted together by one person and not a place. Vee dared to make a tentative phone call to me seconds before I arrived, inquiring about my whereabouts, but I told her the bare minimum and snapped the phone shut.
The softest clicking noise of a door being pressed shut fluttered through my dreamless snooze after what felt like only five minutes of having my eyes closed. Fatigue was sticky in my bloodstream, thrumming rhythmically in my temples. I found it difficult to lift a finger, but after a brief battle, brought my hand up to my face and rubbed my eyes. Quiet footsteps clapped nimbly against the wooden floor, approaching confidently and coming to a stop by my side. Dim light sparkled on my closed lids, intensifying as I peeled back my eyes and blinked. The lamp beside the bed shone blindingly bright in the otherwise impenetrable blackness, and out of instinct, my eyes snapped shut once more to block out the painful illumination. Manipulative sleepy hooks snared me almost instantly, and I felt myself drifting back down into the mint-laced black.
But there was a slight problem. Or maybe problem wasn't the best word choice. Concern might've been more fitting.
There was someone kissing me. And the heady sensations were far more realistic than my slumbering mind could usually conjure.
Completely stilling, my eyelids flew back again. An inky figure, hovering over the bed, cast me into a shadow. In acute shock, my breathing tangled in the depths of my throat. My heart leapt in my chest as cold shock registered clearly across my expression. Flattening my now painfully-alert fingers into the satin sheets of the bed, I shot up into a sitting position.
Lips met mine instantly. Warm, damp and strikingly familiar. Though my eyes had drooped partially closed once again, overwhelmed with a flush of energy which rolled down my legs, I felt the bed and sheets shift as the tall, lean figure sank into the mattress. Hot fingers looped around my wrist, tugging my arm up around muscled shoulders. Automatically, my other followed and knotted at the nape of his neck, feeling glossy curls sift through my fingertips. I tilted closer into his radiating warmth as a fiery palm brushed my lower back and sent tingles sparking across my skin.
"Evening, Angel," Patch whispered softly in greeting.
His voice was like warm honey, dripping from a spoon. At the gentle timbre of it, a sleepy smile captured my face and spread across my cheeks.
"I thought you weren't coming home for another three weeks?" I questioned, but my fingers were already smoothing over his cheeks to pull him back to my lips. Succumbing to my requests without protest, he tipped forward and brought his mouth down over mine enticingly. "I don't care," he murmured without pulling away, seizing the opportunity to trail his tongue along my bottom lip. I repressed a throaty moan. "I've better things at home.." he stated, mouth curving up into a smile that I easily felt.
"Oh yeah?" I cringed at the breathlessness of my tone. "Like what?"
Though I couldn't see it, the flash of his alluring smirk was tangible in the room. It set free a jar of feverish butterflies in the pit of my belly, filling me with liquid heat. He chuckled secretively. "Like.." Hands abruptly gripped my shoulders, velvety lips lighting mine on fire as he climbed over me and coaxed my body into a lying position. His knees pressed into the bed between my legs, arms supporting his weight beside my ears. "Like my couch?" he whispered, leaning down and scorching the skin of my throat with an open-mouthed kiss.
"Your couch is pretty amazing," I agreed enthusiastically, arching my neck and inviting him to kiss it some more.
"Mm," he hummed, blowing warm breath against a spot he'd just kissed and freezing it. "And my fridge."
Desire poisoned my bloodstream, bringing every fibre of my body to life. My fingertips slipped along his shoulders, skittered down his arms and wrapped around his back. As his lips drifted down to graze against the indent of my collarbone, my nails dug into the material of his shirt. "And you," he breathed huskily against my skin, sweeping his gaze to meet mine from beneath fluttery, black eyelashes. An amused smirk toyed with his expression as he took in the flush of blood in my cheeks, the heave of my breathing. His stare sent ripples of lust rolling along my skin, drawing every hair to a stand. It caused the muscles of my stomach to tense in anticipation.
"I missed you so much," I blurted, feeling the hole in my chest swell with warmth and entirely heal. It allowed me to breathe easier. The emotion in Patch's charcoal eyes softened greatly, and he tilted closer to place a sweeter, gentler kiss on my lips. "I'm back now. For good," he declared ardently, drawing a fully-bloomed smile from my heart and eyes. For a few moments, he simply stared at me. Between us, the air crackled with electricity. I struggled to inhale without swooning over his scent. Shakily tugging him into me, I kissed him, effortlessly injecting all of the pent-up wistful longing that had gathered over the past eight weeks.
Ten minutes in, his grey t-shirt was in a messy bundle on the floor. I was pleased with how quickly I'd managed to pull it over his head. He'd managed to wriggle me out of my checked shirt, sheepishly without much notice on my part, very quickly too. As a pair, we worked efficiently. Wolfish, his grin was instantaneous. But crimson blush crawled up my neck and coloured my cheeks and ears as I was now painfully aware of our lack of clothes. The only strips of fabric between us now were my thin tank top, knickers and his dark jeans. When his gentle, luring fingertips brushed the top of my blue underwear, it was like a bucket of cold water was tossed over my head. I hastily grappled for his hand at the wrist and pushed it away, scooting up into a sitting position.
"We can't," I gasped, raking in chunks of air as I ran a hand through my dishevelled curls. Pensively, he sat up beside me but opted to rest back against the leather headboard. "We can't- I don't.. I-"
"Hey," he quietly soothed, brushing his hand to my neck to smooth frazzled locks away from my face. Sighing, I shifted around on my bottom to meet his gaze, scooting closer as he looped an arm around my shoulders. "It's alright, we don't have to do anything at all if you don't want to."
I felt bad for leading him on. Hell, I even felt bad for leading myself on, then stamping and rubbing my heel in it last minute. But, simply put, I wasn't ready. Whether my wavering unwillingness stemmed from insecurity, the fact that I was exhausted or that we had no protection whatsoever, I wasn't sure. Inwardly, I groaned and cursed myself. On the outside, my cheeks bloomed scarlet and I moved onto my side, curling into the crook of his neck. "I don't. I just.. Sorry," I stammered, tripping over my words. My lips touched his burning skin as I spoke, unhelpful to the situation.
Patch's hand combed through the ends of my hair comfortingly, lessening my chagrin slightly. The fingers of his other hand caught a hold of my chin, gently tipping my head back to look into his face. I tried to pull them away, knowing he'd see the embarrassment obvious in my expression, but he was stronger. "Angel," he said firmly. He bent forward a fraction and pressed his lips to mine. "You don't need to explain yourself. Don't apologise." As he released me, I gave him a strained smile and settled back into his side, my head on his chest.
Nothing more was said for a pocket of comfortable time, the darkness of the room and warmth of his arms lulling me back to sleep as my humiliation ebbed away to tiredness. But a second before I floated away cloudily, Patch's chest twittered with a yawn and I was snapped back to reality, idly wondering about the time.
An idea fizzled in my mind. "Patch," I abruptly said, pulling away so that I could look him in the eye. Curious, he followed my movements drowsily, one eyebrow cocked in question. "Will you do something for me?"
"No," he hastily responded. I narrowed my eyes playfully at him and he breathed a mirthful chuckle. Grasping my upper arms, he lithely flipped me over onto my back and hovered above me on the bed. Silken black strands of his hair tickled my forehead and I pressed my shoulders into the plush mattress, battling to meet his eyes.
"What're you asking me to do?" he wondered, a lazy, teasing smirk filling his cheeks.
"Come on holiday with me."
Caught off guard, confusion flashed across his features shortly. He opened and closed his mouth once, twice, three times before shaking his head lightly in amusement. "What?" he chuckled.
"Holiday," I reiterated, fighting the beginnings of an amused smile at his bewilderment. Unconsciously, my hands snaked along his shoulders and I hooked my arms around the back of his neck. The prospect of this weeklong wedding celebration had dramatically brightened now that Patch was slotting into the puzzle perfectly. I indulged in a sneaky image of him wearing a charcoal suit and tie, bringing a wholesome, pleased grin to my face. He questioned it warily with his eyes, silently encouraging me to continue and elaborate on the subject. "Vee's cousin is getting married abroad this week and I promised I'd go. She has to room with one of her relatives, so you could fit in with me.."
A beat of silence tailed my words before he spoke.
"Hm, holidaying for a week in a foreign country and sharing a room with you?" Frowning, Patch mulled over the situation. He puffed a thoughtful, drawn out sigh from his lungs, averting his gaze from mine to bite mindfully on his lip. Swallowing a laugh, I stole the moment and wrapped my legs around his waist. "Sounds awful, doesn't it?" I joked. His grimace shattered into a chocolate smirk. One which caused my stomach to flutter.
"When do we leave, Angel?"
"Five hours," I clarified.
"That's more than enough time."
My forehead wrinkled. "For what?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.
"This." Slipping his talented hand along my thigh, he crooked his long fingers around the back of my knee and drew my leg higher up on his waist. The temperature of my skin spiked, doing funny things to my breathing. I pulled him down to me and he didn't resist, meeting my requests with equal ferocity. Enough that I wondered if we'd accidentally kindle a fire. He kissed me until my head spun and heart spluttered, spinning me closer and closer to him in a sticky, unrelenting web. Caution was very startlingly tumbling out of the window, and I was losing sight on everything that didn't include his eyes, hands, taste and scent, but ever-controlled Patch flicked the switch. Albeit reluctantly, he pulled away far too soon, brushing a sweet kiss to my feverish forehead before melting away into the kitchen.
But I was happy. Swaddled in the blankets, crumpled up on my side and hugging a pillow, I made no attempt to stifle my smiles.
I had a fuzzy feeling that this was going to be one of the best holidays yet.
Man, I just love Patch. So much. If only I could find a model perfect enough to fit him, so that I could add him to my wall with all of the other hot men posters..
Anyways! What'd you think? :D
Do you think Patch is sweet? Would your reactions have been like Nora's? ;) What're your expectations of the island?
Tell me, tell me, tell me! :D I'd really appreciate if you could leave a review! They're seriously what give me the most motivation to write, when I'm stuck. That minute or two it takes to write one for me is extremely appreciated! :D
I'll update soon. I'm good with updates on these stories, 'cause they're fun and easy-flowing. Stay safe, guys, and have a great day! xx :)