CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
All That Matters
It happens when you least expect it. When there isn't any planning nor any indication. At least, that's what Janice told me one day when we were watching one of those terrible romantic comedies. She laughed at me as I tried to tell her that it should be planned meticulously, everything perfectly in place. That there should be a date, a time, some kind of warning before it happened.
I mean, there should be, shouldn't there?
But as we knelt on the kitchen floor, our bodies touching, all that was running through my mind was the thought that I loved him, that I loved him more than I possibly thought. That all I wanted was to press myself to him, to feel his warmth upon my skin. I wanted us to be one, now more than ever.
All that had happened, the fighting, the lying, the heartache, all I could think about was him. How much, how very very much, I wanted to be with him.
"Emma?" He murmurs, his eyes focused upon my lips.
He doesn't say anything further. He simply places his lips upon mine, wrapping his arms tightly around me. My mind goes blank, it simply processes the touches. My lips against his, his tongue in sync with mine, his hands slowly tracing my skin.
It's only mere moments before he breaks contact, lifting me up off the floor and picking me up into his arms in one motion. I hang onto him, my lips hungrily searching for skin, tracing his neck, his collarbone, as he walked us up the stairs.
He remained silent as he placed me upon his bed, looking at me as I laid there, peering back.
Slowly he lowered himself upon me, brushing a strand of hair off my face, "I love you."
The sun had set, the darkness of the room making him less visible to me. I could barely make out the profile of his face.
I grasp his shoulders, forcing him to lower himself further, close enough for me to kiss him. "I love you too."
He kisses me then, perhaps more passionately than he ever had. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, a knot of desire heating up my body. He was so warm, his kisses so deep, everything was wonderfully vivid.
"I'm sorry for everything I've done, Emma."
"I just..." He looks pensively away at the wall. I could feel my anxiety growing. "I'm so-"
"Niall." I say grabbing his face in my hands and turning it toward me. "For the love of God, just shut up and kiss me."
And he does.
He kisses me without any restraints this time. He is above me, his body barely touching mine, as if he is afraid of losing control. Yet, his tongue plunged between my lips, allowing me to taste him. My own tongue twined around his. His hands dove into my hair, grabbing handfuls of it and pulling me up towards him, crushing my mouth to his as my own fingers slid into his hair to pull him onto me.
My body seemed to melt against his. I could feel him, the fullness of him, the warmth he radiated.
The need to touch, be touched, to take and give, nearly overwhelmed me.
I unzip his hoodie, finding soft skin underneath. He does not break contact as I had expected. Instead he continues as I trace every crevice, every dimple, every beautiful piece that made him who he was. He smiles as I kiss him back, deepening each kiss, making each one last longer than the last. I could feel myself reeling from the mere contact, from his lips gently biting mine, from his hands being tangled in my hair.
I take off the hoodie, leaving his torso completely bare.
As he reaches to lift my light cotton dress, my hand instinctively stops his. He looks up at me, kissing me gently once more. There was the question in his eyes, but he dared not ask it. He attempted to stop, to get off of me, to leave this as it was and not push it any further.
But I didn't let him.
I pull him back onto me, looking straight into his eyes, reassuring him that I was ready. That I wanted nothing more than to be with him. I nod and silently watch as he rids me of the rest of my clothing, I could feel my heart about to burst has he looked at me.
He simply looked at me.
Astounded, amazed, I am not quite sure how to gauge his reaction. I can feel myself flushing and am silently thankful for the cover of darkness.
His crystal eyes were illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the window. I watch him as he traces the curves of my body. He took his time, all the imperfection suddenly drifting away, seeming to be utter perfection in his large, able hands and dreamy eyes.
He was able to make me feel beautiful without uttering a single word.
He gently raises the covers over us, ridding himself of the rest of his own clothing. I blush as I feel the warmth of his body upon mine. As I feel the jut of his hip bones dig into my hands. He looks at me once more, just once more before he allows himself to go past the point of never going back.
And I did not know whether it was the moonlit sparkles in his eyes, or the intimacy of this long awaited moment, or if it was even my imagination running away with my once more.
But I could honestly say that I had never felt more loved in the entirety of my life.
He didn't have to say a word to prove to me that he was reciprocation my thought. And he didn't.
If I were to plan this, to have marked a day in my calendar and said "This is going to be the day. It will happen this way, at this time, at this place." I would have been heavily dissapointed. It would never have compare to this.
And even if it was a midst such tension, a midst a day where I wasn't sure that things would ever fall together again. It didn't matter.
All that matters is him.
That he is now, and forever will be, the person I will without a doubt love for the entirety of my existence.
It took today to prove that this statement will ring true, no matter the time or distance or situation. It will always be him.
And that's all that matters.