She’s not eating. She’s not drinking. She’s not laughing, giggling or blushing. She’s sitting completely still and lets you hold her. So small. So fragile. So used and discarded.
Bobby’s gone from her life, for good. Gone with another man, and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces. It’s up to you to push aside your urge to taste her tears and just hold her as she cries in to the night, grasping your arms like a lifeline and pulling them tighter around her.
You knew it long before her. Knew it from the way the scent of ice and snow were diminishing day after day, until you couldn’t smell them in her anymore. You were slightly worried, feeling guilty over your trips with her, but unable to stop whisking her away from her husband. And this morning you found out that Bobby couldn’t have cared less if you’d fucked her to the carpet right in front of his icy stare. He was having his own thing going on with a man with fire in his eyes, and you’re actually quite relieved that you didn’t go by your first instinct and kiss the tears from her face when she stood by your door. They would have been bitter. Born from anger and frustration rather than grief.
You let her rant and rave her aggression. You let her curl against your chest, and sit there, watching the night sky outside of your window, holding her because she’ll fall apart if you let her. You’re sucking a lollypop you found from the drawer of your nightstand when you were cleaning up. Slightly stale, taste still reminding you about the day you bought her one. How her face lit up from the sight of it, followed closely by a quick frown.
She surprises you in middle-thought, turning around on your lap and grabbing the lollypop, pulling it out from your mouth, her eyes locked to your lips. She leans closer and when you feel her tongue sweeping over the sugar coating of your lower lip you close your eyes and bring your hands to cup her face, granting her tongue an entry, parting your lips just slightly.
You can feel that slick muscle sliding over your lips, dipping in and greeting yours with the softest of touches before she pulls back from you, her whole body trembling, skin flushed and her eyes glowing.
“I… I’ll see you tomorrow…” She whispers, climbing off from your lap and hurrying out from your room, leaving you sitting in front of the window, your mind still reeling and your head drooping against the backrest of the chair.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Final chapter. Short sequel will follow.