The space between us is getting smaller
531 Words
I didn’t see him all morning.
And I hated how much I noticed.
The house felt quieter without his presence.
Less tense.
Less dangerous.
Less alive.
Daniel found me in the kitchen while I was trying to pretend I was interested in making tea.
“You look like you didn’t sleep,” he said.
“I didn’t,” I replied.
He leaned casually against the counter.
“You spend a lot of time thinking about him, don’t you?” Daniel said.
My grip tightened slightly on the teacup.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your father’s friend,” he said. “Alex.”
My stomach twisted.
“What makes you think that?”
Daniel smiled slightly.
“Because every time he walks into a room, you stop pretending to be bored.”
I didn’t answer.
Because he was right.
And I hated that he noticed.
I found Alex later outside in the garden.
He was standing alone.
Smoking.
Something he didn’t usually do around my father.
He turned slightly when he heard me approach.
“You shouldn’t be out here without shoes,” he said immediately.
Control.
Always control.
“You’re avoiding me,” I said.
He didn’t deny it.
“That’s because I almost did something stupid last night,” he said.
My heart skipped.
“What kind of stupid?”
He looked at me.
Long.
Dark.
Hungry in a way he was trying very hard to hide.
“The kind where I forget whose house I’m standing in,” he said quietly.
My pulse quickened.
“Do you regret it?” I asked.
He exhaled slowly.
“No.”
Honesty again.
Dangerous honesty.
“But I am trying to behave like a man your father would trust,” he continued.
“Why?” I asked softly.
He laughed quietly.
Not amused.
Tired.
“Because if I stop trying to be good,” he said, “I will start wanting things I cannot take back.”
He stepped closer.
Not touching me.
But close enough that I could feel his warmth even in the cold air.
“You should be careful around Daniel,” he said suddenly.
“Why?”
“Because he is starting to notice how I look at you.”
My stomach dropped slightly.
“And that’s bad?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said immediately.
Then he surprised me.
He reached out.
Not to touch my waist like before.
This time he brushed snow from my hair slowly.
Gentle.
Almost intimate.
Too intimate.
“You make me reckless,” he said quietly.
“You make me feel wanted,” I replied.
That made him go very still.
Like I had said something dangerous.
“You have no idea what that does to a man like me,” he said.
“Then show me,” I said.
Reckless.
Always reckless.
He inhaled sharply.
Then stepped back.
“Not here,” he said roughly.
“Why not?”
“Because if I start touching you the way I want to,” he said, voice low and rough, “I will not stop.”
And then he walked away again.
Leaving me standing in the snow.
- Writer
