"Take care of yourself Duncan." He whispers against the shell of my ear.
"Yeah, you too Charming."
I slink back onto the arm of the sofa, my hands pressing into the fabric as my arms work to keep me upright. Rhys gathers his things and heads towards the elevator.
I’m underwater, drowning. Sounds are muffled, my limbs feeling a pressure around them as they struggle to move against the air. My eyes stare into space, unseeing, unfocused.
The ding of the elevator snaps me out of it.
"Wait!" I whisper as I stand up. He has to wait.
There isn’t enough air in my lungs as I move towards him. I don’t know what to say to him, I don’t know how to make this better.
All I know is it hurts and he’s both the cause and the cure.
"Rhys." I say as my hand jumps between the closing elevator doors. His head lifts, our eyes connect, and I shoulder my way into the elevator.
"Duncan?" His words are hopeful, but the lingering sadness hangs between us.
My hands bracket his jaw and I dive in. Pressing my lips to his and demanding he open his mouth to me. When he does, my body lights. Sunbeams shoot out of every pore.
"Do you feel it too?" I ask breathlessly as I press my forehead to his.
"Yes, you’re not wearing pants."
I glance down between us and, yeah, my dick is pointing straight at what it wants.
Huffing a laugh, "yes, but also, the, I don’t know Rhys. The connection between us. You feel that too right?"
We’re descending to the lobby.
Time is running out.
"Yes, but sex was never our problem."
"We didn’t haveanyproblems until you labeled it." I say as my fingers play with the collar of his denim shirt.
Rhys is pressed up against the wall of the elevator but he still manages to pull back. Putting more space between us.
"This isn’t my fault." He defends.
"Well it isn’t mine either." I crack back.
His eyes close, he looks tired.
"Duncan, c’mon."
"C’mon what?" I ask as the elevator slows.
Time’s up.
Rhys’s green eyes focus on me for a heartbeat before he slides to the side. My gaze unfocuses and the mirrored wall of the elevator blurs in front of me.
He places a hand on my bare shoulder.
It burns.
But I don’t flinch away, I lean into it, wanting.
