Chapter Text
Chapter one
Rosabelle
My back hits the wall of James’ room with a little too much force. I whimper when I make contact with the wall.
“I'm so sorry—” says James, panicked.
I pull him toward me again, my hands combing through his hair.
His lips are soft against mine.
His hair is smooth against my fingers.
His body is hard and warm against mine.
I want to feel his weight around me, on top of me.
I'm going insane.
I kiss him harder.
His tongue traces the line of my lower lip. I've known hunger before. I know what it's like to starve.
But this—
I can't describe it. All of those times that I've suffered on Ark don't even come close to this.
This is like a black hole that was born the second I slit his throat and has been growing bigger by the second; feeding on celestial bodies, the gravitational pull being stronger and stronger, more irresistible.
His fingers slide under the hem of my sweater, his lips never leaving mine.
His hands travel further upwards, tracing patterns on my back. I help him take off the piece of clothing, letting it fall to the floor.
I only realize he's trying to say something after he starts kissing me a little less than usual.
“Hmm?” I murmur, not paying attention.
“You're so beautiful,” he leans away, still within my reach but far enough away to hold eye contact.
“But, you've already said—”
“I know I did,” he rushes to say, “But I just can't help myself; every time I say that, you get all shy and look anywhere else but my eyes,” says James.
“And then, when you finally look at me —the way you look at me—” he takes a shaky breath.
“It breaks my heart and puts it back together, piece by piece. And I…” he trails off.
“I fucking love it”
I have no idea what to say to this. My body works faster than my mind, my hands going to his chest, pushing him backwards. His legs hit the frame of his bed making him fall down into a seating position.
I follow close after, straddling his lap.
I move slowly, tilting his head back by pulling his hair. My lips graze his pulse.
His heart is racing.
My heart is racing.
I kiss him there, tasting him. His head falls back, his hands move to grip my hips, fingers digging into flesh. I somehow manage to tug off his shirt. I'm breathing hard— we both are— when I sit up a little, shifting my weight to my knees so I can kiss him better.
I'm inexperienced in the arts of love, I barely know what I'm doing. But being with James doesn't make me feel embarrassed.
My only goal was to protect my sister. I never had the chance to think about anything else, never had the chance to have these feelings.
From the moment I met James these messy emotions have been bottling up, and now—
The glass shatters.
He's faster than I am, stronger. He switches our positions so I'm the one laying down on the bed.
He notices me freeze for a second and says:
“I'm sorry— We don't have to— I, I shouldn't have—”
I kiss him again, slower this time.
I reach up and slide my hands down, down, his chest.
He's had one of his hands in my hair, leaning on the other for balance. But now, he grabs my wrists with his hand and carefully moves my arms so that they are pinned above my head.
“Is this okay?” He asks, kissing my neck.
I nod.
“I need you to give me a verbal response, Rosabelle,” he says softly, his lips grazing my throat.
“Yes,” I'm unable to breathe. “It's more than okay– James,”
He traces kisses down my collarbone and I suppress a shiver. My back arches and I somehow stifle a moan.
When I manage to recover, I turn back to see James watching me with intensity so strong, it almost looks like he's in pain.