“So youdidknow what we got?”
“No, I checked it before I told Loreen to choose because I have a lot of decision anxiety.”
He doesn’t question me, instead he takes a bite of the wrap, his eyes rolling back, “Mmmh, this is good.” He says, his head nodding in agreement.
“Can I taste it?” I want to experience the taste too.
“No.” He says ironically as he hands me the wrap.
It’s some kind of bread filled with melted cheese, different vegetables and a yellow sauce.
As I take a bite, teeth sinking through the soft bread, I react in the exact same way as Ector just did. This tastes incredible!
“Give it back.”
“No, I’m going to keep it all to myself and eat every last bite.” I joke with him. A very bad joke.
He tries to grab my arm, but I scramble off the bed before he gets the chance and start running away from him. He lets out a sudden laugh and starts to run after me.
“I’m getting it back, sweetheart.”
“No!” I laugh out loud.
He gets a hold of my waist and holds me tight, close to his body. I stop laughing as I’m being pressed to him and feeling his warmth. Feeling his arousal against my lower back.
My body is pressed to his.
He turns me around and we lock eyes. His eyes could compel me in the same way as a magical spell could.
I tear the wrap into two pieces and give him the bigger one.
“Do you want to share with me?” I ask him, while looking into his deep eyes.
“Yes, sweetheart. Thank you.”
Sitting on the bed together, we continue looking through the basket. We got so much more food than I thought we would. Some small chocolate chip cookies, two more wraps but with different ingredients, and a toast.
Trying my best to focus on the food, my mind refuses to stop thinking about how Ector held me around my waist. How our bodies were so close, the touch feeling like hot flames of an old dragon.
My whole body goes warm just from the thought of it. From the thought of him, holding me.
Chapter 12
Ector
She went to get us breakfast? Not only for herself but for both of us. She makes me feel things that I didn't know I was capable of feeling. It’s terrifying.
“I sent the letter to my mother earlier, so we don’t have to think about that.” She tells me.
“What letter?”
“A letter that will explain to her where I am and what I’m doing- or kind of doing- so she doesn’t worry too much about me.” She explains.
She did everything by herself this morning without telling me? While I was asleep? In a town she doesn’t even know? She’s brave for doing so, but I would’ve preferred to have gone with her. She needs to be more careful.
“That’s good.” I say, not knowing what else to tell her, what more to say. I can’t sayI’m proud of you, even though that’s exactly what I want to do.
I want her to feel strong and powerful, to believe that she can do anything she puts her mind to. I want her to grow so secure in herself, that she no longer recognizes the person she once was.
