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I bend my knees and fall to the ground, sitting alone in the darkness that has engulfed both my room and my body.
My mother was dead. My mother was dead and I had no chance of possibly saving her despite my numerous efforts, despite all of the times I had told my father he was a coward. I had told my father he was a coward for letting go of her, but what was I, if not the most coward of all when I kept on reassuring myself she would live.
I had the stupid hope within me just like how my father said I did, the same hope he tried to rip out of me every single day of my life.
I decided not to turn the lights on, embracing the failure that I was, embracing the fact that the darkness would at least hide me, my thoughts and my feelings, when no one else would.
Mid way through my thoughts I heard the elevator ping, someone stepping out of the bright box on my left, I did not try to turn my head, did not try to figure out who had wanted to visit me now of all times.
But, the figure was slowly moving forward and from the corner of my left eye I saw an angel, white light from the elevator creating a bright hue of some sort, making them look like the most beautiful angel there ever was.
“Aaron?” I hear them- her whisper.
It was Juliette. Juliette- who shot me when I first kissed her. Juliette- who was there for me when my mother passed away. Juliette- who did not want me. Juliette- who decided to stay with me despite her hating me. Juliette- the only constant there has ever been in my life.
I slowly lift my head, the action requiring much more effort than it should and look at her right in the eyes. Her, oh so beautiful, orbs staring right back into mine. And at that moment I heard something inside of her break, or rather, shatter, as she tries to decipher how I feel.
She is an angel herself and I am no one but a poor human soul. She is heaven sent and I am a demon, spawning from the deepest ends of hell, so undeserving of her and her beautiful smile, so undeserving of the pain she feels as it slowly cracks through her face, tears forming in her beautiful eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking through the apology she should not be giving; the apology my father ought to have given when he killed my mother. I can not fathom how she could possibly be sorry for something she did not even cause. Pure-hearted Juliette was apologizing for something she was not even a part of because of how many times she had been used and experimented with.
So, I do the one thing that I could think of, I nod and carefully get to my feet, my knees wavering with every muscle I forced to work.
“Thank you,” I reply, walking my way towards my office, ignoring her figure as it gets closer.
I get in and hear her call out my name, “Aaron.”
I stop. Completely and utterly confused as to why she would say Aaron and not Warner, not my family name but rather my name, mine. I grip the edge of the boardroom table in front of me, unable to fathom what she could possibly want so I say, “Please, Juliette, not tonight, I can’t-“
But I’m interrupted before I can speak any further as she says, “You’re right. You’ve always been right.”
And now I am even more confused than before, perhaps more confused with her than I have ever been. Because what exactly was I right about? What could she possibly be talking about that I was right about when I was always proved to be wrong over and over and over again.
I turn my body ever so slowly and look into her eyes. Her blue-green orbs shaking in fear? Or is that nervousness? She looks like she wants to leave this instant, get out of the room and recollect herself for some other day but I can’t let her go again, “right about what?” My eyes are now widened in fear, unprepared for what she could possibly be telling me.
She brings her callused fingers to her lips, cracked due to the intense training, as she figures out what she would be saying next. But I see the fear in her trembling fingers, in her shaking eye lids, in her moving legs.
She parts her lips and I immediately squint my eyes, preparing myself for whatever blow she was planning on landing on me today. “I do want you,” her voice finally reaches out to me, shaking with even more fear now, “I want you so much it scares me.”
And at those words I shut down. I shut down mentally and physically as I try to process what she had just told me. I try to speak, move my throat, open my lips, create a sound, but every effort is wasted in vain as I stand there, terrified of her words.
“I lied to you,” she continues, “That night. When I said I didn’t want to be with you. I lied. Because you were right. I was a coward. I didn’t want to admit the truth to myself, and I felt so guilty for preferring you, for wanting to spend all my time with you, even when everything was falling apart. I was confused about Adam, I was confused about who I was supposed to be and I didn’t know what I was doing and I was stupid,I was stupid and inconsiderate and I tried to blame it on you and I hurt you, so badly.” I try to breathe. “And I’m so, so sorry.”
“What—” I’m blinking fast now, my voice uneven, my thoughts so scrambled I can’t even form a coherent thought properly. “What are you saying?” I finally whisper, my voice so fragile, so sensitive that another word out of her pretty lips would absolutely shatter my being.
“I love you.” She whispers. “I love you exactly as you are.”
And I can not breathe anymore. Every one of my organs has now shut down to hear those seven words being uttered out of her shaking lips.
This must be a dream. A cruel dream my brain has orchestrated yet again, a dream where Juliette has feelings for me, the same feelings I have for her. Another one of those dreams I’ve tried so hard to stop but my heart was stupid and sensitive, begging for even an inch of her love.
“No,” I gasp. One word I could barely even voice out. I shake my head and look away from her, my hand now tangled into my blond locks and my body facing the table I had been gripping less than two minutes ago, “No. No, no—”
“Aaron—” she says, but I interrupt her before she can further shatter my heart and soul, “No,” I say, backing away, taking a deep breath in. “No, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
But she continues even after I’ve stopped her, “I love you.” She tells me again. “I love you and I want you and I wanted you then,” she breathes in, “I wanted you so much and I still want you, I want you right now—”
And she stops. She stops herself from continuing what she wanted to say, what I’ve been begging to hear for the past several months.
Her eyes are covered in so much shadow now, in so much fear and desperation so I do the one thing I’ve been wanting to do for so long, I kiss Juliette.
I kiss her deeply and desperately. My hands searching for her waist, gripping it as I breathe so hard, my lungs possibly seconds away from collapsing. I quickly lift her up into my arms as she loops her beautiful legs around my hips. I slowly slide down my lips, leaving kisses at her neck like how I’ve always wanted to, kissing her throat like the desperate fuck I was for her. I set her down on the edge of the boardroom table I had been gripping and slide my hand under her shirt, feeling every single beautiful curve of hers, feeling her soft skin as she shivers and groans under my touch.
I run my fingers up her spine, feeling every vertebra there is to feel as her body itches closer to mine, her head now resting in between my collarbone and shoulder. I can’t control myself any longer and push my thigh between her legs, my hand slipping behind her knee, thigh, and now her ass, pulling her body even closer to mine. I finally break the kiss and look at her: her now pink tinted cheeks, her now plump lips, her now hungry eyes. And I wonder how someone so beautiful and utterly perfect could ever love me. I did not deserve Juliette for she was what man kind wishes so desperately it could be: beautiful and so sympathetic.
She breathes as hard as possible now and I feel a small light forming inside of me at this sight.
“Up,” I say, breathing just as desperately as her, “lift your arms up.”
And she does. She lift both of her arms up and I quickly make my way through her shirt, tugging the fabric over her head as gently as I could and throwing it across my office.
“Lie back,” I say to her, still trying my best to breathe, from restraining my lungs from collapsing as I look at her, at her desperate eyes. I guide her onto the table as my hands now slide down her spine, her body moving towards mine again, but I carefully pull her body towards the table again, unbuttoning her jeans and unzipping them.
I rasp out, “lift your hips for me, love.” And I stop breathing again, her body was made by the greek gods and no one else. She lifts her hips for me and I hook my fingers around the waist of both her jeans and her underwear at the same time and tug them down as strong as possible.
She gasps at the sudden cold air hitting her skin and she is left in nothing but her bra now but I take that off as quickly as possible too.
I look at her for a moment and still can not fathom the fact that Juliette is lying down right in front of me now. She is everything I have ever wished for and more.
My hands can’t control themselves and I move them up her legs and the inside of her thighs. My lips now have a brain of their own, guiding themselves down her beautiful chest as she writhes under me, her lips uttering the sounds her throat was now forming.
Her head is now backed up against table while her hands are grabbing so desperately onto my shoulders. Her back arches against the table as her chest inches slowly towards mine. I move my fingers towards her core and she lets out a string of curses, a moan escaping her lips as she rasps out my name, “Aaron.” She cries out and clings onto me with the one string of sanity she has left.
I bend my knees and sit right in front of her core, her legs spread wide by my hands as she bites her lips to suppress another moan from escaping them. I slide my hand under her knees and stand up, sliding the other under her neck before walking away from the office, putting her right on my bed and now I’m on top of her again.
I can’t help myself anymore. She is the one thing that has left me sane in this moment.
I carefully touch her shoulder and run my fingers down her body, down her chest, down her waist, down her hips, down her thighs, down her calves, before finally going back to her soft cheeks and moving my face towards hers. Kissing her softly before I back away for a second and then go back for a second time, this one desperate and messy, my teeth biting onto her bottom lip for a milli-second before she wraps her her arms around my neck, clinging onto my body even more than before.
She runs her soft hands through my hair and fists a few locks only to further push her lips into mine. We were a lock and key, our lips perfectly molding for one another.
She quickly untangles her hands out of my hair and pushes me off of her, her fingers undoing the buttons of my shirt, or trying to do so as her entire body shakes and trembles in want and desire. So, she gets frustrated and just rips my shirt open and I sit there gaping at her beautiful power, at her.
I am hers for the rest of time and I am so incredibly desperate that I do not even let her take my shirt off. I pull her onto my lap and wrap her legs around my hips, grabbing the back of her head and dipping her body backwards until her back has hit the soft mattress. I cup her face for the hundredth time today and kiss her again, never having enough of her delicious taste, never having enough of Juliette herself.
I kiss her and hope my desperation and want can be seen through my actions. My lungs beg for air but I can’t stop myself, I can’t stop myself from tasting her, I don’t think I ever can. I finally pull back only to look at her eyes as my chest rises and falls faster than it ever has, “I think,” I whisper, “my heart is going to explode.”
She looks at me like I am her entire world but she doesn’t know that she is my entire universe.
This.
This is everything.