❛ show me how much you missed me. ❜
𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞. amélie says sit and leon obeys. amélie says crawl and leon's on the ground, making his way to her. amélie says jump and leon asks how high?
the instances in which he gets to order her around — knowing her limits well — are played behind bedroom doors ; office doors ; bathroom doors... wherever they can blow the steam off.
the sleepy smile and groggy tone in the morning before he gets up and makes breakfast — the effort he puts for her and their kid — the only decent cook in their house, always learning &&. expanding his knowledge. the smell — clean, vanilla and tobacco, something now resembling stability and peace. stupid jokes, terrible one - liners to which she can only roll her eyes — but smiles involuntarily, trying her best to keep the poker face, to not give him the satisfaction of knowing he made her laugh.
the usual gentleness and, if needed, lack of thereof. the way his hand absentmindedly reaches for hers — and if their fingers not interlace, he opts for the touch — resting his palm on her waist, thigh, arm, back...
a sense of belonging. a reason to come back home — a way of building her own happy family.
she could go on for hours about his silliness — but also his intelligence, attention to detail, perceptiveness ; how loyal and trustworthy he is ( they did rob a grave together — literal partners in crime and crime - solving ) ; about his handsomeness and goofiness and, god, she is obsessed. the moment her eyes laid on him, she knew that's the one.
a week long trip of his and she's been told she's sulking. how could she not without her private sunshine? a whole ass long week of takeout, tons of stupid tv shows and missing him like a literal child, all pouty and moody. even azor decided to keep her company one night, letting her face rest in the soft fur. it's probably michalina's doing as well ; the dog would never voluntarily leave the teen's side.
a week without leon feels like eternity.
michasia's at school. or rather, she's supposed to be — rarely attends and it's something to be fixed rather sooner than later as to not lose custody ; today though the teen can be excused, as amélie obediently approaches her sun. before she met leon, it's like she lived in the dark — independently &&. freely, but once she had a taste of the purest rays of gold and light, she didn't want to come back to the shadows. ever.
impatient, both of them, two kisses in and she's already doffing her clothes — dress shirt she wore to work, the pencil skirt leon usually just hikes up ; there's the fiddle with his belt &&. zipper &&. tie she pulls him by closer and closer and never close enough ; her thighs pressing against his sides, her desperate grind against the seam of his pants, her needy whines between open mouthed kisses.
hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!
she's hungry, famished — for his presence, touch, scent, voice, and when she's oh so close to feel the bliss, have leon exactly when she wants &&. needs him most, there's the sound of door shutting — loudly, a statement to accentuate someone's presence.
❝ ew! get a room! ❞ michalina yells, shuffling off her boots as azor shakes the rain off his coat.
for asking if she skipped classes there will be time. later. maybe tomorrow, or even the day after. right now, with smeared lipstick, amelie turns to the girl.
in a hurry, she picks up the pieces of her wardrobe off the floor.
❝ noise cancelling headphones! ❞ the woman adds, already getting ahold of leon's tie once again. she's answered with a thumbs up, and so she smiles — mischievously, a plan coming together in the clever head of hers.
❝ how about that — we head upstairs and you show me how much you missed me. ❞
absolutely no way to negotiate with the future wife of his — dressed in nothing but lace lingerie, leading with hips swaying &&. half lidded gaze of lustful eyes to the king size bed in the bedroom.
