Troubles (Kissing The Devil)

“What is this even about!” I yell as I slam the bedroom door behind me.
He music downstairs sounded loud and I just came running upstairs after Niall practically begun a fight in the middle of a group of people neither of us knew. Jesse was under the care of Eleanor and Sophia as Niall insisted we had a chat. This was aggravating me.
I was feeling grumpy and tight in my clothes and my arm hurt. Niall acting grumpy wasn’t helping me out the slightest bit.
“I thought you forgot that after I saved you!” I pause “From being shot!” I exclaim and press my lips together as I grumble
“Well, I guess I didn’t!” He said, his muscular back turned at me as he ran his hands through his hair “And you left!” He exclaimed, turning around “Just like that. After I did everything to keep you safe!”
“He is my brother! I couldn’t leave him!” I whine “And Harry, what did you do to poor Harry?!”
“Seriously!” He’s angry now, his expressions contort with anger and rage, ire even as I mention Harry “The same Harry that got you drunk and let you leave without my orders. He could have got you killed!” He yelled, and for a second I thought he was even louder than the booming music downstairs “He could have gotten you killed!” He repeated, like a mantra as he sat on the bed, as if it was the only thing keeping him sane.
“I’m alive.” I nonchalantly say “I’m fine!” I say “you didn’t need to punch the poor guy. He was doing what he thought was best!”
“So, this is it, hu?!” He raised his eyebrow “You’re defending the guy who could be responsible for your death?”
I sigh, crossing my arms and think. And suddenly it hits me and I light up like a Christmas tree. I even giggle, and how he managed to listen to that through the music is over my understandment.
“You’re jealous!” I whisper
He frowns, getting up from the bed and pacing around the bedroom.
“No!” He carefully says
“Gosh, you totally are!” I tease
“No I’m not!” He growls “I punched my best friend because he disobeyed me, and he could have gotten you killed, and I’m not jealous!” I laugh “I’m serious!” He exclaims, like he’s trying to believe what he’s saying
I’m holding my stomach from laughing and when I can suck in a breath and open my eyes, Niall’s in front of me. So ridiculously close I start to feel claustrophobic. I take a step back, only to feel my back against the hardwood door, and Niall steps closer again.
Nothing about this is funny anymore.
I press myself as hard as I can against the door, like I want to make part of it, but even when my cheek is pressed against the cold surface, I blurt out.
“He told me you were starting to care for me!” my eyes are closed, and even if I want to open them, his lips connect with mine before I can do anything against it
It’s sweet, and passionate, and nothing says ‘I care’ more than this
I don’t know how to react, I don’t know what to do but wrap my arms around his neck and kiss back. I take a deep breath as he presses, and he takes and takes and gives back the same amount that he takes. Like’s he’s done this a million times, like he’s a pro, or even like he’s been waiting for this.
I have no idea. I only know I end up running my good arm down his torso and pull his black shirt up, carefully running my cold hands through his abs as I felt his muscles move under my hand, probably from thermic shock, but I didn’t stop, I ran my hand up, and up until I felt the bristle of his chest hair.
I opened my eyes slightly, to see him with his eyes closed, eyelashes brushing against his pale cheeks as his eyebrows are scrunched and he looks … vulnerable.
And it hits me again. It wasn’t jealousy. I was worry, stamped in his actions, and maybe he lost his cool when Harry confessed he was the one who let me out.
It wasn’t jealousy, but even if it wasn’t worry, if it was jealousy, the both translate care. And care, to someone who didn’t mind anyone, who didn’t worry about anyone else, was something that I so dearly possessed.
The care of this young male, whose arms surround my waist and pull me closer and whose hands caress my skin as he pulls my shirt up too. His fingertips tracing the scar that I got on my back when I was three.
And there’s so much affection here and I have no idea on how to respond to it. It’s not like I have ever been the only one girl that received someone’s affections. Previous boyfriends have liked someone before me, even if they were eight and had no idea what love is.
But this man, right here. He didn’t care about anyone before me, our first kiss wasn’t of care and love, it was of despise, to humiliate me, but now… I don’t know now! I know this is hard and different and I never felt so attached to something or someone in my life.
He’s adrenaline, and I’m the junkie. And I don’t think I could take a step back now, even if he asked me to. He’s mine, he’s in need of this, of care, and probably it’s the first time he gets it from someone that isn’t family.
True care and affection, not the type of care and affection you have for a one night stand, the type of affection that fades away after you ‘did the dirty’. True affection, that comes after you know a person, you know their defaults and how freaking stubborn they are. How they prefer black and white, and tattoos that I don’t know the meaning of.
I pull back from the tender kiss only to pull off his shirt. And this isn’t like the first time, when we were both drunk and too excited to even remember properly what happened. This time I’ll remember, because the alcohol effect from earlier was almost entirely faded away and I could see.
I could see the perfect outline of his lips, and the strong curve of his jaw, and how his eyes were closed, enjoying the close mouthed kisses I’m laying on his skin, like love letters that are still unopened after they reached their destination.
His lean body rests against mine, hipbones brushing against my slightly protuberant ones as my shirt is the one that’s on the ground now.
Hard breathing from both ends as bare skin slides upon the others, I whine as he takes my hair band off and promptly runs a hand through the mess of curls. I swallow as I open my eyes again an immediately regret after seeing the beautiful sight that is him, vulnerable, submissive and needing affection.
I broke thought the diamond like exterior without even doing that much other than scratch, and scratch and scratch until it broke. And now I have him, the true him.
His hands run through the rest of my body like an x-ray as his hands happen to slip down my skirt. I find his belt, undo it, and push down his pants too.
I push him back until we’re on the bed and his calloused hands run through my soft skin like a ghost. They’re here, and the next second they’re there. And the feeling heightens my senses so much I get a dizzy feeling.
“You okay?” He asks, his voice thick with sentiment
“Yeah.” I answer and it’s the truth
The bed is unmade, wich makes it a hell of a lot easier to slip inside the covers as we both get rid of the remaining pieces of clothing we own. He searches through one of the drawers of the bedside table and takes out a platinum square, that you probably know what is already. He opens it with his teeth and rolls it on.
“Alright?” He asks
“Alright!”I nod and pull him over me, my hands caressing the skin of his back as he kissed my nose and then he pushes inside of me and my back arch from the bed with a whine.
I can’t explain.
Even if I wanted, I couldn’t. And I don’t want to explain.
I wanna feel, and be happy, and not feel like something is missing. He kisses around the bandage of my injury and I freeze, but a hand is on my hair, caressing and telling me he won’t hurt me. Everything is alright and it’ll keep being fine after this.
And then he leans down and kisses me while he keeps moving. Nails scratching, back arching, skin crawling kisses and hair bristling, hands adoring skin and whispers of words I never thought I would hear from his mouth.
I arch my back one last time as a breathy moan leaves my full lips and I come undone as his two arms shiver by the sides of my head and my head presses against the pillow harder, exposing my neck as he seeks his own liberation while kissing and biting and scratching the sensitive skin of my throat as I laid there, and felt him, memorized how blue his eyes were, how strong his jaw line turned out to be, how and how his muscles tensed and clenched and how much strength he was applying by the sides of my face to keep himself lowered, but not laying on me.
I sigh and pull him into a hug after he reached his climax. Now he let himself fall flat on top of me as he wraps his arms around me. I caress his blond hair and close my eyes, and hug him closer.
“I care!” He whispers and I smile and sigh accordingly as I drift into a dreamless sleep.

Notes