there was a time in lennon’s life where she would’ve exploded into a fit of laughter had anyone mentioned that out of lust, desperation, or even love, their legs had turned to gelatine. the more she attempts to picture the sensation, the less she’s able to believe that anyone has actually ever felt something comparable. in between laboured breaths, she once again tries to picture herself dealing with that sensation, her thought process resulting in an important realisation: the only two times she’s felt which she considers to be similar, is any morning following field hockey training back in school in england, and today, of all days. she eventually manages to regain enough muscle control to slowly make her way over from the bed to the shower, the idea of running warm water over her legs and arms — both of which are sore beyond belief, which she oddly fully welcomes — particularly appealing. when she first enters the shower, she finds herself pressing the pads of her fingers firmly onto the tiled wall to her side, desperately needing a source of stability. a few moments later, as elliot moves away, she steps under the water, her eyes shutting as she lets the water fall onto her face. it’s warm and deliciously welcome. it engulfs her face for a few seconds, and drowns out the sound of her surroundings, letting her mind trail off slightly. when she finally resurfaces, elliot’s question registers in the back of her head, and for a second, she’s almost unsure of what to do, and how to answer. a part of her’s definitely tempted to stay; he’s most likely just as attractive when he wakes up, and god, it’d be nice not to have to drive home as early as she did last time. but, another part knows just what staying over means. staying over means tenderly waking up next to the other, and it means breakfast. and breakfast then means lunch, which leads to dinner, because somehow no one can ever stop sharing meals once they’ve started.
after a few minutes spent letting herself drown her features — and intrusive thoughts — under the water, she turns her head back to face him, her chin resting atop her shoulder, throwing him one of her infamous simpering sidelong glances, “ i’m not too sure if i’ll stay or go yet. i think i’ll let this one be a ‘ spur of the moment ’ decision. — either way, you shouldn’t think about it too hard. from what i remember, you don’t mind whether i stay or go, right? ” the final syllables of her sentence are accompanied with a full body turn, and a small step forward, which closes the already small distance between the two of them. she can’t quite tell if it’s the endorphins coursing through her blood, or the steam of the shower, but she suddenly feels an overwhelming need to bring the ball back to her side of the court. for years now, she’s taken great pleasure in bringing a variety of people to their knees at her whim, purely for the sake of doing so, and purely because she’s able to do so. she’s coaxed pleas from the lips of lovers both out of pleasure and desperation, and suddenly, she finds herself wanting to do it again. she wants to watch every possible reaction elliot will have to her words, and to her actions. “ and if you’ve told me you don’t mind, i shouldn’t question it. because you, elliot, would never lie to me, right? ” she purrs, her head tilting as her arms slide around his neck. she stays there for a few seconds, plastering the most innocent grin she can across her features, knowing all too well that this, this display of innocence, is her most polished act to date. eventually, she lets her façade break with a short laugh, her fingers untangling themselves from his hair and her arms falling back to her sides, “ i’m only kidding — you’re totally free to not mind about whether i stay or go. just like you’re totally free to lie to me, or twist the truth. it’s all your prerogative. ” her fingers reach for the shampoo bottle, playing with the cap of it mindlessly for a few seconds, before pouring a small amount of it into her palm. “ oh, and not to inflate your ego harder than a helium balloon at a party city shop, but the sex was yet again pretty mind-blowing. ten out of ten, i’d do it — and you — again, ” she adds, with a casual shrug, biting down on her tongue just as she’s about to mention the kiss he placed on her forehead just minutes before, and how she — oddly — quite liked it.
elliot is starting to realize that one of the things that makes lennon so irresistible to him is her spontaneity. the way she keeps him guessing, wondering if when he wakes up that next morning if she’ll be there beside him. he really doesn’t mind, which is why he’s said this to her, knowing that respecting lennon and her boundaries was something elliot was always looking out for. she suddenly steps closer to him in the shower, elliot’s arm reaching around to the small of her back, rubbing circles on her warm, silky skin. there’s this look in her eyes that makes it obvious she’s planning something, the sweet, soft touch of her fingertips sending shockwaves down his spine as her hands loop behind his neck. it’s like he’s staring into the eyes of the cheshire cat, or the snake from the jungle book, big blue eyes giving him a hypnotizing glance. wow, she’s really got a hold on him. she’s not even the only person he’s sleeping with, but only she can make him feel electrified just by the way she looks at him. he’s ready to beg her to spend the night, insist that an evening spent by his side is one worth making a memory. the words are caught in his throat, knowing that if he utters the words he could scare her away, or worse, cause himself to think deeper into his feelings for lennon, which would just end in something bad, he’s sure. luckily, it’s like she’s broken the spell she’s cast over him when she lets go of his thick, black hair, the previous mysterious tone in her voice disappearing as she starts to shampoo her hair. a little confused, he makes sure to not show just how disoriented she’d made him, chewing nonchalantly on his bottom lip as she goes on to say he’s free to lie to her at his leisure. it’s not like he wants to lie (unless the subject has to do with his family, in that case, elliot will lie to his hearts content), knowing that his relationship with lennon, while purely physical, was something he wanted to continue for as long as possible, and he figured throwing in something misleading would definitely send her away. was it wrong then, for him to deceive her about his own feelings? he wanted to tell himself, no, of course not, though he was unsure if this was true or not. the biggest lie he’d been telling though, had been to himself. ensuring that their relationship didn’t blossom anything remotely real was becoming difficult for him, knowing that being around her caused his heart rate to skip several beats every time she whispered his name. it didn’t matter, though. he had lennon’s dislike of relationships to protect his secret, to make sure she would never find out of his real, true fear about someone falling in love with him.
giving a quick -- smack !! to her bare backside, the sound being far louder than usual given the splashing of the water against her skin and the echo off the tile walls, elliot pulls her a little closer. “oh you would, would you? you always know how to flatter me...” he chuckles, raising his left hand to caress her cheek. “i think that can be arranged....” his grip tightens on both her face and her ass as he leans in to kiss her lips, stopping just a breath away -- his eyes open and staring her down. his blue hues dip just momentarily to stare at her perfect, glossy lips, desire burning in him as he longed to close the gap and give her the kiss he was so desperately craving. he’s close to just pursing his lips, spitting into her mouth and pushing her head down, ready to continue their evening of sexual exploits once again. stopping himself, though, he lets out a breath, letting go of her entirely and pulling his head back. “not now, though. you’ve got soap in your hair.” he points out casually, leaning against the shower wall beside him. his thoughts drift back to lennon’s comment on his freedom to lie to her, and an uncomfortable twist forms in the pit of his stomach for just a moment. “i really wouldn’t lie to you, just so you know.” he says, watching as she rinses the suds from her hair. “and i hope you’d never lie to me, either. not because i’d be hurt, but because i’m really.. not the kind of person you’d need to lie to? i mean, i can’t think of anything you could need to lie to me about -- i respect your truths. i respect the things you do outside of our physical relationship. i respect you enough that i’d rather you just withhold things from me than lie to me.” he goes on to say, wondering if maybe he’s taking things too serious from their usual playful and flirty attitudes. shrugging his shoulders, elliot leans his entire back against the wall, the cold tiles causing him to shiver slightly. “lying could only create chaos for us. and i think one of the things that makes you and i so appealing is that sense of freedom -- the realization that we don’t have to go through those dramatic points of relationships.” a sigh slips from his lips as he reaches beside him for a bottle of shower gel, squeezing a small portion into his palm. “i don’t know, lennon. what i’m trying to say is i don’t want to end this fun between us. i just want to be a piece of furniture in your life. and while i may just be the vibrator in your nightstand, that’s good enough for me.”
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