‘You’re worth it. I would hide in a thousand cupboards, walk hundreds of red carpets and see millions of terrible photos of myself online if it meant spending time with you.’
‘Luc…’ I croak. I lift my head from his chest and look at him. He’s millimetres away from my face and I’m fairly certain this type of contact breaks every rule we made in that restaurant.
I’m trying to dig up all those reasons we wouldn’t work, but the only thing coming back to me is:What if we did?What if the reason Luc has come back to me now is because I’m supposed to do it differently this time? That Luc is my opportunity to live a little, to go out and do things which aren’t part of my job. So that I can have fun again, pottery painting and doing things like this.
To give up control and be surprised a little.
I’m gazing at his lips, the small crack in the centre of his bottom lip slightly more pronounced. I don’t stop myself like I did last night – I let my gaze linger. Like his is on my lips. I hope that someone will and someone won’t interrupt us at the same time. I know if he doesn’t pull away, neither will I.
There’s a flutter deep in my bones that I want to ignore, but it’s like I’ve been starving for years. Since the Richmond Park walk, hours before I ran from him and the relationship.
‘Sie,’ Luc rasps. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, and I think he’s going to pull away like he did on the sofa after I asked whether we’re friends. That he is going to break this trance between us. But then he opens his eyes again and, if anything, he’s closer.
His breath grazes my lips. The chattering noise from the auditorium falls away, replaced only by the thumping of hearts, of soft, sharp breaths. Luc sighs before he leans in, his nose brushing past mine. And then our lips collide.
His touch is tentative at first, like anything else is dependent on my reaction, my permission. I lean further into him, more pressure between us, and I feel him smile against my lips.
Luc pulls back and looks at me, his chocolate eyes darkening as the lights in the auditorium dim, breaking the light through the circular window at the top of the door. Neither of us move. Luc’s weight against the door keeps us there.
I lean in this time, my lips connecting with his, and he groans quietly, his body melting against the door. The sound reignites a fire I thought was long lost inside of me, a heat pooling in the base of my stomach. A soft opening, our lips part. The mere moments feel like a lifetime. His hand lands on my neck, his thumb stroking my jaw. The kiss deepens for a few seconds, not nearly long enough. He pulls back, just far enough that he can speak. ‘Come on,’ he whispers as the noise from the stage starts filtering through the door and the actors are singing again.
‘And Sienna?’ Luc starts. I look at him, the shadows on his face carving out his cheekbones. ‘Don’t make me sleep downstairs tonight.’
The door is opening before I can reply, and we sneak back into our seats on the edge of the row. I’m silently thankful the lights aren’t going to be on me, that my flushed cheeks won’t be pictured in the papers tomorrow. As soon as I’m sat, Luc’s leg finds mine, maintaining a point of contact between us.
I’m surprised the conductor doesn’t ask me to come to the front so the beating of my heart can keep the actors in time with their music. A human metronome. It seems to hover at the height of its beat swelling in my chest before retreating to its rightful position. I briefly wonder what that would look like on a heart monitor, what my prognosis would be.
I feel kinda sorry for her, she was just trying to go on a date with her man
If stuff like this didn’t happen, she would literally be unemployed because no one would care about her music lol
It’s so refreshing seeing her do this stuff
Did anyone else notice how flushed she looked in that photo after the interval? When they came back in?
CHAPTER 15
I’LL GIVE YOU MY MORNINGS
TRACK 8 | SWEETHEARTS INSIDE AT NIGHT
Mornings are one of the most important times of the day to me. It’s the only time of the day I have to myself, when the world around me is sleeping. The idea of inviting someone else into those sacred mornings has always scared me but, with Luc, I don’t know… it was different. I wanted him there. He’s never seemed to have any effect on my social battery.
I unlock my front door,expecting something to happen the minute I close it behind us. It doesn’t. We stand in the darkness, clambering out of our shoes.
Luc breathes heavily as he bends over to untie his shoelaces, while I forcibly squeeze my feet out of my heels without loosening the buckles, kicking them to the side once they’re off.
‘Can I get you a drink of anything? A snack?’ I ask, sounding like the mother inMean Girls.
‘Uh, actually water would be great.’ The gravelly tone of his voice is gruff against the darkness, lit only by one of the street lights outside the gate through thefrosted window to the side of the door. I leave him in the corridor, turning the light above the hob on and distracting myself with the tap.
I don’t hear Luc come in behind me until I feel his warm breath against my cheek. I take a gulp and then hand him the glass.
‘Oh, we’re sharing, are we?’ he asks.
I open the cupboard and grab my own glass, but he takes it out of my hands and puts it back.
‘I don’t mind sharing,’ he whispers.
