So, our date does not end as either of us planned.We get some fried chicken from a fast-food joint near the late and invite Laurent the driver to join us, but he graciously refuses. Instead, he takes us back to the little park near the lake and watches over us from afar, giving us our space and keeping an eye on us because there’s still an unsavory character capable of murder prowling about, and we have no idea if he will strike us or not.Coraline and I have something of a good time, I think, eating out from a bucket while being sprawled over either end of a bench, listening to each other’s voices mingled with the soft lapping of waves on the shore, talking about anything and everything. Her feet are on my lap, and I gently massage the soles of her feet with the hand that’s not holding my food.It feels so nice to be able to be open with someone like this. I’ve not been a fan of reading much, but from the few stories that I have read, I’ve learned that the best kind of person to fal
The kiss starts leisurely, a flutter of lips against mine. We don’t close our eyes at once, rather, we stare into each other’s windows to the soul for a moment before our lips connect, and I wonder how I must seem in those darling eyes before her lips are on mine. I belatedly realize that she had been the one to initiate most of our kisses so far, and that’s something I wish to rectify. I want to start kissing her, but so far, it’s felt like I didn’t quite have the right yet. But not now.Now I feel like I do. And it’s an exhilarating feeling quite unlike any other.My arms slip under her frame, tall and voluptuous, and she gasps when I tug her close to me. Her front presses against mine and her hands come to cradle my face, fingertips feather-soft against the growing stubble of my cheeks. Our noses brush together as I align my face better to kiss her, and her lips open in invitation to plunge my tongue into her mouth.And I take to accept that invitation, tangling my own tongue with
The pale sun rays of the morning filter into the bedroom through the slivers of the heavy curtains hung over the windows and illuminate the warm presence that is pressed next to me.I can only stare at her, lost in admiration as I take her in.Coraline. The covers have been pulled up to her chest, and her head is pillowed by my shoulder. Her hair is in a disarray, resting all over the bedspread, luminously blonde against white. Her mouth is open slightly, and her cheek is mushed against my arm. There must just be a bit of drool dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Her makeup is smudged, a good amount smeared on the bed cover and pillowcase we seem to be sharing. It makes her look like she’d attended a Halloween party dressed up.It might not be the perfect image. But to me, she looks as beautiful as ever.I hope I’m not being too much of a creep watching her while she’s sleeping, but I can’t seem to help myself. She just looks so perfect, here by my side, and the very feel of her s
We go on more dates after that. Successful ones. And they’re slotted in each empty space of our busy schedules wherever we could find them. They’re just little dates, evenings spent in a café where we would drink coffee and talk, in the library of Clandestine city because Coraline wants to check out some new books that had arrived at the venue, or having dinner somewhere lush and extravagant because I’m coming to realize now that I might be my father’s son in this one aspect as well because I find myself wanting to treat Coraline in the most expensive way, and enjoy the experience with her. I don’t know if my father had done it with my mother, but he’d certainly done so with his wife if the old journal articles I read about them are true.Speaking of these articles, I know that my father’s wealth earned him a near-celebrity status. What I did not know was how he became the center of attention for many gossip rags in the past, when both his mistress and his wife were alive. Because it
I do not have experience with letters.In the digital age where it’s so much freakin easy just to send someone a message through some app or social media or even an email, people do not tend to send each other letters unless they’re trying to adopt some sort of quirky aesthetic to their life, be old-school or are some old companies that still believes in sending clients their bills by paper.No one really sends letters these days, in fact, I can’t remember the last time I got a letter in the mail, with stamps and an envelope and all.So, imagine my surprise when one of the members of my father’s security team comes to me as I’m walking to the door hurriedly slinging my school bag over my shoulder, knowing that I’m bound to be late for my first class if I get stalled. The blame for this tardiness lies squarely on my shoulders, of course, it does, because I’m the idiot who forgot I had class today because I was too busy with my girlfriend. The only reason I even remembered I had class w
“So,” Coraline stands next to me after dropping a couple of files in front of me on my desk in the office at Zelt Tech, careful to keep a good distance between us. We have come to a mutual agreement to not make our relationship public within Zelt Tech premises because neither of us wanted to provide fuel for the already burning rumors surrounding us. While the truth was far from those rumors, it didn’t look like it, and I didn’t want to punch someone for making a crude remark about Coraline.Or scratch that. I very much wanted to punch anyone who would say anything vulgar about Coraline, but I wouldn’t want the consequences that come after the punch. Such as lawsuits. Something tells me that “I was defending my girlfriend’s honor,” would not fly right in any court on the planet. I think.So yeah, we kept our distance in the office, although it was hard. It had only been a week and a few odd days since we started our romantic relationship, yet we’d grown awfully touchy-feely with one a
“Jace, my parents did not suddenly turn into flesh-eating monsters since the last time you saw them, “Coraline insists as the car parks right in front of her parent’s property, a fairly large area of land complete with a beautiful garden and a sophisticated looking brownstone. Mr. Granger’s vintage automobile is parked near the garage, which must be sheltering Mrs. Granger’s much more modern car for the night. The couple takes turns parking their car in their one-car capacity garage and I can’t help but think that’s the cutest compromise ever. The older couple has a nice relationship between them as well, a very loving partnership that had endured through the decades. Coraline is their only child, and they had her quite late in their lives, in their late thirties. So, by now they’re in their sixties, and her mother suffers from hypertension while her father is a diabetic, so Coraline is sometimes worried about them. Which is why she’s not too invested in moving out of her parents’ hou
The dinner spread for the night looks and smells fantastic. There were juicy steaks cooked to perfection according to everyone’s wishes, a fancy salad made of exotic vegetables, a corn-cheese bake that looked positively melty, and silky mashed potatoes with gravy. The wine was top-notch as well, and I forewent my normal tendency and indulged in two glasses throughout dinner.The conversation flows, in the same way, it would have this been a normal dinner with the Granger family. Mr. Granger talks about his car and asks about my work; Mrs. Granger asks about business as well as school. Sneakily, they also try to get information from us about our future plans regarding our relationship and whatnot, and Coraline and I indulge them. Of course, when the stealth questions about marriage and kids make their presence known, very subtly, of course, we do a great job of deflecting them. It’s far too early to entertain such thoughts. It hasn’t even been a month yet.And eventually, the atmosphe