13 Just To "Know"

Lacy

The Next Day

I held my breathe. My eyes lingered unto a house with chiseled walls of a light brown and an average design of a grey rooftop. The blacken double doors unsettled me, though, I knew I was bound to cross the threshold into Freya's home. I hadn't caught the time to inform O'Conner yet I knew he would be thrilled. After all, his half snatched plan had done its job. Here I was.

I recalled my eyes drifting to my cellphone that day. The lit up screen with a message sent by her. Her invitation to drop by on a Saturday afternoon. My finger graze the cold metal door bell, which I applied press towards.

Without a moment to space, the door gilded to an opening to...no other than, Freya Scott. My attention gazed over her stunning appearance. Her tone, sun-kissed legs were exposed underneath torn up shorts. Following up, a tight pink tank top clung form fitting to her inner stomach curve. I never realized how much pink suited her. Just how could this girl not be aware of how beautiful she was?

"What..." Freya's voice hit my eardrums in a low tone. The clearing of her throat caught my focus though. "What is it?" her volume rose to normal, her eyes glided downward in a self-conscious manner.

Shit, I was staring. "Oh nothing," a laugh caught into my throat awkwardly as I made an attempt at recovering, "Those shorts really suit you. I--I wish I had a pair." I cringed inwardly. That was the worst recovery to date. I swear I'm getting worse at this every time I slip up with Freya.

Freya's smile made its appearance widely, "Oh thanks!"

"Going to invite me in..?"

Her glistening nude colored lips separated in realization, and her eyes shuffled near to the door's frame in embarrassment. Neither of us spoke a word for a good few moments. What is with me today?

"Yeah, come in," her voice spoke in a meekly tone.

The living room was littered with a southwestern vibe. Slipping off my shoes, my socks planted themselves on a rug with arrows littered through it. My eyes sought out the paintings that laid on various walls of Indians on houseback, which were framed in a dark tone wood. Freya's heel slide a spit Splatoon against the door as a improvise to prop it to a wide open. Two leather brown couches which had seen better days were in the entry living room. The two faced a charcoal bricked fireplace that had a flat screen situated above it.

"Yeah...my parents really love southwestern," Freya addressed my wandering eyes, "My room is this way. Oh, and it is just us two today. My mom's out."

I allowed Freya to led the way, following her up along a hidden-like staircase that laid nearby the fireplace's ending. Not glancing behind her, she took a left at the hallway and disappeared into the first door.

My eyes inched wider once crossing the door's frame. Her room defied my expectations.

It spoke levels of raging teenager and individualism with graffiti artwork, she must've done self, hanging on the walls. Those paintings were a splashes of various colors with bold words such as "Life Is What You Make It" or "Freedom". The carpet had been covered over with a large rug that expanded to the size of the room's flooring. The plush blackness comforted my feet just as if it had been the casing of a throw pillow.

A black and white low bed positioned off in the corner. And to finish it off, dozen of books on a bookcase with an easel idling behind it.

There was nothing consistent about this girl...she is just unpredictable.

"So you paint," I spoke as I thumped down roughly unto her black bedding. Though, the issue with today had been I had no mock up idea for her inviting me over. No plan. No preparation. No goal. The whole ordeal threw me for a unforeseen spin.

I witnessed Freya nodded her head, leading her own way towards her easel. She removed the white fabric that had been draped over it. There had been a painting in process displayed unto it. It appeared to be a mocking jay cracking the earth with its lengthy break. The earth was shaped into a leaf, the background was that of a forest setting.

"That's interesting," my vision strained as I attempted to graze over the lighter details.

Freya frowned, "It isn't finished though...I'm not sure if it even makes any sense. I just had the idea one day."

"What is it about?" I tore my focus from the painting unto her. Her blue orbs intently studied the painting with her two fingers positioned under her chin. Her lighten eyebrows were softly furrowed. Her lips laid in a natural position. Though, my attention lingered onto her bottom lip which she sexily drug inward with her single tooth. Observing her, a gulp pressed down into my throat. I could notice the threatening beating against my chest. Damn.

"I really don't know," Freya's laughter filled the air.

Catching a glimpse of her eyes swaying my direction, I panickily redirected my focus to the painting we discussed.

Attempting a reply, my brain strained to recall our conversation. "It's up to interpretation then..."

"I guess so."

The bedding sunk in a dipping near me. My eyes peered over to catch sight of Freya, now, aside me. Her attention still lingered unto her artwork. What if I get caught staring at her like this? My stomach stirred within me, tightening itself at the thought. As if on cue, Freya's eyeline grazed in a connection with my own.

"Um..."

Teasing her always seemed to be my best way out. But how?

I spoke before I could review the words to my own surprise. "What? …Do I make you speechless?" my volume subsided into a low whisper.

Separating our gazes, I caught notice of a bundle of hair, which rebelliously had swayed into her vision. Taking my two fingers, I reached out, removing the strands from in front of her shoulder and circling it behind her ear. Her posture tensed as my finger grazed her ear. Her left hand digging itself into her covers as she tightly latched unto them. The breath in her throat hitched.

My mouth grew dry in her reaction, inhaling a breath of my own softly. Get a grip. Our gazes connected. Seeing the haze within her eyes, my heart pounded in swift beats.

In a simultaneous motion, our lips inched closer to close the gape between them. My focus lingered unto to hers. Without being able to withstand the intention any longer, my hand swept into her hair to tangle itself with in. I pressed her lips into a crashing collision with my own.

Our lips battle another with intensity. Her hands slid up my arms in a soft motion, flowing down from my shoulder blades until reaching their destination: my stomach. The touch of her skin sent shivers down my spine as her finger tips roamed underneath my shirt.

Aching for more of her, I released her hair and roamed down to her bottom. With force, I pulled her in a straddling position on top of me. Our bodies collided with one another, fighting for dominance in a mimic of our lips.

Our moment felt like an hour. The tension subsided as our bodies withdrew a distance between us. Her eyes flickered to an opening to peer into mine. Her breath rigidly drew inward and outward from her lips. My tooth found my bottom lip, biting down upon the sight I took in: her being breathless on top of me.

Her eyes inched wider, pulling her legs from on top of me as she expanded the distance between us. She idled herself two feet from me.

"You're gay?" she breathed.

I smirked, "So are you."

At my words reaching her ears, Freya's sea blue orb's lifted from the haze that filled them. Her jaw hung loosely in bewilderment.

"No, I'm not!" she defensively spoke out.

"No?"

"I-I mean..." her fingers trailed upwards to trace her lips, "I just wanted to know... you know. What it was like."

I squinted my eyes at her, unsure. Was she serious right now? She was going to cover up our kiss with that?

My eyes went wide as realization dawned on me. I snapped myself back into reality.

Our kiss...shit!