“That I’m not enough for you. I want to be, but I’m just not and I don’t think I ever will be. You’re being so…perfect, Ares, and you deserve to be with someone who’s not broken. Not that I think that’s what we are. I mean, we’re not together or anything.”
“Zara, stop.” My voice comes out harsher than I intended, and she flinches. “First, we are as together as together gets. You and me are anus. Second, you are enough. You are beautiful, kind, smart, funny sometimes, and you are strong.” Bringing my hand up to her face, I wipe her wet cheeks with my thumb. “When I look at you, P, I don’t see anything broken.”
Zara buries her head into the crook of my neck. Her fingers cling to the fabric of my shirt as she cries.
“You can cry as much as you need to. I’ve got you,” I tell her, swallowing the lump in my throat. I hate seeing her like this. I want to be able to help her, and I can’t.
It takes almost an hour before she stops, lifts her head, and stares at me. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry. I’m glad you can cry with me.”
“More like cryon you.”
“I want to be that person for you, Zara. Whenever you need anyone to cry on, I’ll be there,” I tell her.
“Why?”
“Because you’re my person.”
“I should go home,” she says. “My parents are probably losing their minds.”
“Your mum thinks you slept over with Cara,” I explain.
Zara’s eyebrows draw down. “Why?”
“My dad told her you were.”
“Why would he do that?”
“He saw me leave with you, knew I came here, and asked if you were with me. I told him you fell asleep and I wasn’t going to wake you up.”
“Your dad just lies for you so that you can have sleepovers with girls?” Zara smirks.
“You’re the first girl I’ve ever had a sleepover with.” I smirk back at her.
“Mhmm.” The look on Zara’s face tells me she doesn’t believe me. When she tries to move off my lap, I hold her tighter. I don’t say anything. “What are you thinking about?” she asks.
“I want you to kiss me.”
“What?”
“I want you to kiss me. I want you to want to kiss me,” I tell her.
“You’ve never kissed me,” she points out.
“Because I’m waiting for you to admit you want this. That you want me.”
Zara frowns. “Wanting you isn’t the problem, Ares. I want this more than anything. But I’m only going to end up hurting you.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I assure her. “Kiss me, P.”
Zara presses her lips against mine, so softly. My hands cup each side of her face, and I take everything from her. My tongue pushes through her closed lips. Seeking, learning. I make a mental note of what she tastes like, what she feels like.
She shifts until the blanket is gone from around her shoulders, and she’s straddling me. Fuck, I really didn’t think this through. I want her, more than I’ve wanted anyone, but I’m not going to be that guy. The one that takes advantage of a sad girl just to get his dick wet.
My hands move to her hips, stopping her when she grinds down on me. My dick is hard. I groan as I deepen the kiss, my fingers digging into the flesh of her ass as I pull her against me as hard as I can. Zara lets out a little moan. I sigh. I want to hear more of that. I want to make her feel good.
“We should stop,” I tell her.
