25 | Deep End
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I can't remember the last time I went to the cinema. I hadn't realised that until now, pulling up in front of the familiar building, swapped somewhere in my teenage memories.
I usually wouldn't take Riley up on her offer but she's still being petty with me, acting like I have to take major steps to make up for crashing on a stupid couch. Maybe I should be more empathetic but everything is blinded at the moment. It's probably better she thinks I'm here for her.
In reality it's been three days since Christmas and not seeing Ava has apparently made me lose my mind.
When I close my eyes I see more of her than I ever have.
Before I was haunted by a pretty face, that fleeting scowl and a dazzle in her blue eyes.
Now that's paired with everything darker.
The lace of her bra, her sucking frosting off her finger, taking my own fingers.
It's fucking hard not to let my imagination run wild with what hasn't happened.
It feels like only a matter of time now. I almost devoured her whole in that hallway, forgot about every consequence, everything keeping us apart. The only reason I was able to prolong this kiss is because I know she'll break eventually.
This messy situation between us won't die. It's getting stronger, wearing down our guards, pushing us closer. If I keep teasing her, making that perfect line of pink bloom across her cheeks, she'll finally let me take care of her. And fuck, do I want to make her feel good.
I push open the glass double doors, the large space a mix of people. That tangled smell of popcorn and other cinema food floods my nose, the scent of a long dead childhood. I scan the space - when I catch Riley and Ava my sister looks like she's about to murder me in cold blood. Shit.
"You're late!" She squeals as I approach, slotting her arm in Ava's.
Ava. Silky hair, half up, half down, falling over her cheeks. Dainty silver jewellery, a necklace draped between her collarbones. Light makeup dusts her face, matching her off-the-shoulder sweater. She looks perfect, as usual.
"Late for the trailers," I murmur, struggling to keep eye contact on her, "The movie doesn't start for another five minutes."
Riley scowls like I'm a bug on the ground she wants to crush with her shoe.
"Why didn't you just wait inside the screen?" I add, a muttered comment. It's not helping but I can't be bothered with niceties.
"The others are...I just thought I'd wait here," She gives me a once over before sharply turning her head, "I wish I hadn't."
Ava's pulled away almost immediately as Riley stampedes towards the screen. I catch her eye for a second though, a silent moment passing before being cut short. She didn't say anything. She looked like she didn't know what to say.
I reluctantly trail behind, wondering if it was even worth coming.
My brain is swamped with things that make it hard to care about repairing my bond with my family.
I do care, somewhere, but I have to save that for the new year at this point.
I've clearly lost whatever stupid determination I had when I moved back here.
Just before slipping in the screen I stop, quickly muttering that I need the bathroom. The heavy doors are practically shut in my face by Riley. Nice.
When I get back and slip through the dark corridor a familiar film studio intro starts to play, signalling the beginning of the movie. I've forgotten what we're even watching.
I seem to forgeteverything when I see who's in the seat beside me. I'm right in the aisle, Ava to my right, glancing up at me expectantly. It's hard to tell what she's thinking, partly because it's pretty dark but also because her face is still.
She's not frowning, not smiling, not upset. It's like she's looking through me, like I'm a new person she's only just met. A poker face to hide the things she's not supposed to be thinking.
"Sit down, asshole!" A voice calls from two rows up, snapping me out of my spell.
I slide in next to Ava, our thighs briefly touching in the small space. I hear her breath hitch, feel her body stiffen. She's nervous. I would watch the screen if it had anything interesting on it. Ava is the only thing captivating my attention.
Time stretches and I relax a bit. I even drift my eyes over to the movie enough to keep track of a vague plot. There is something though, an undercurrent of tension. It's softly burning, waiting to pounce.
"Stop," Ava whispers about twenty minutes in, quiet as a mouse.
I slowly whip my head towards her, careful to not attract Riley's attention on her other side. I wonder if I imagined it, watching the projected light across her cheek.
But then her eyes flash back, her face tilted ever-so-slightly. My gaze drops to her lips like a reflex and I have to drag them back up. She decimates my self-control.
"Staring," She whispers again, "Stop staring."
Oh. It should make me avert my eyes completely, instead it plants a smile on my face. It wasn't as if I was trying to be subtle but knowing she felt that does something to me. My gut swirls, chest tightening.
I bring my head down as slowly as I can, focusing my eyes forward. I know what Riley's like, that a second of extra movement will have her spinning my direction like a hawk. My breath dusts the top of Ava's ear.
"No."
The only indication that that rattled her is the slightly sharper exhale that leaves her lips.
But that's the only confirmation I need.
Her gaze is gone, completely, face locked to the screen.
She's avoiding me. I'm getting through to her because as much as she wants to deny it, she loves to be bad.
Doing things she's not supposed to gives her the same spike of adrenaline it gives me. Once upon a time that was a burden, an outlet for me to be a shitty person. Now, Ava is me breaking the rules, she's my high. A drug I hadn't even realised I was addicted to a month ago.
I wait a while longer, music and words a muffled blur in my ears. I'm not sure how many minutes go by but I do know I couldn't care less about this fucking movie.
When Ava seems the most distracted I bring my hand up in the darkness, very gently hovering it above her lower thigh. Electricity burns through my hands, a need to touch her consuming me.
She's wearing tights, because it's cold, but I selfishly wish she wasn't. I have the feel of her warm, bare skin still lingering in my head. It's intoxicating.
The second she notices my hand I place it down, fingers spreading across her skin. She blinks towards me, eyes widened andwarning. I just tilt my head.
"Stop," She mouths, though there's a lot less conviction than before. She's conflicted, caught between wanting this and fear of the consequences.
"Really?" I whisper, reaching down to her ear again.
Ava scowls and hits me in the arm as subtly as she can. It doesn't hurt but it's cute that she tried. I stifle a laugh, my smile wide and lit up as a brighter scene comes on screen.
Ava doesn't remove my arm, though. She looks down at it, cheeks blooming, lips parted. But she doesn't move.
Two minutes later I slide my hand higher, fingers pressing into her sculpted flesh.
My fingertips threaten to slide underneath the denim.
My other hand balls into a fist involuntarily, restraint biting at me.
There's something about touching her that undoes me completely.
When she's mine, fully mine, touching every part of her body and soul just might kill me.
Ava shuffles in her seat, not enough that my firm grip is disturbed. She's only moving because she's flustered. Her hands are fidgety, moving from her lap to the arm rests to fiddling with her hair. She's not looking at me again.
Maybe I should be concerned that I get such a power trip from this. Maybe I should be concerned that it fucking turns me on.
I ignore that, leaning subtly towards her ears again, watching goosebumps trickle down the side of her neck.
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"You look so perfect today, pretty girl," Nolan hums, quiet but still making sure I hear every damn word.
My stomach is jelly. I'm forcing the urge to squeeze my thighs together because he'll notice, immediately, and that'll be one more thing to tease me about. I'm so aware of my breath, making sure it doesn't come out all shaky and pathetic.
I should tell him to stop again. He won't though, because he knows some twisted part of me likes this. The sinful, selfish nature of it all. Pure desire spiralled out of control. I don't even know how we got here.
A month ago he was Riley's older brother who smirked and brimmed with secrets I wanted far, far away from me.
Now he's Nolan, the person I can't stop thinking about, the person with his hand sliding further and further up my skirt.
The contact feels good, the warmth, the strength of his grip. Like he never wants to let go.
I do manage to side eye him again, flashing the best non-audible stop I can. It probably makes me look desperate. I don't know if I'm not talking in case Riley hears me or because I don't want him to stop at all.
He keeps his deep, gravelly voice planted right next to my ear, consuming me with every word. He knows that's a weakness. He's a smug idiot who's weaponising it because I'm somehow wrapped around his finger.
"Should I keep going?" He whispers, squeezing my thigh, "Do you want me to see what's between those pretty legs?"
I'm frozen, the movie a blur in front of me. Riley is so still, part of me very conscious of her right next to me. My brain is drowning in every sensation, heat is thumping through my blood. My cheeks are red with the answer to Nolan's question. He would find me embarrassingly soaked.
"You gotta let me know if you want me to keep going, pretty girl."
His voice is a soothing hum yet it dishevels me completely. I always think I know what I'm doing, that I can put a line between us, then I'm caught up in his words, his voice, his devilishly handsome face and all composure melts away.
I'm nodding. Why am I nodding?
I can feel Nolan's pride gleaming beside me. He loves me like this, quiet and caught in his trap. He always has, though I guess now it comes with the satisfaction of running his hands over my skin. My chest tightens as he finally moves again.
The tights are nothing like bare contact but it's enough. His fingers are under my skirt, grazing the very top of my thigh. Desire shoots through my body, straight to my core. It's weirdly possessive, laced with his usual care. I don't even know he manages to do it.
There's touch at the creases of my skin, intimate places I haven't felt anyone get this close to in a long time.
Never this controlled, with so much intention.
Again, it feels like he cares. Then it moves higher, fingers gently gripping the waistband of my panties through the thin fabric.
My thighs clench instinctively. My breath spikes, too noticeable.
Riley glances towards me.
Nolan's hand retreats immediately.
Sensation falls away. My mind fogs over.
"You okay?" Riley asks, leaning in. She crunches popcorn too loud in my ear, making it even harder to discern thoughts.
"I..." I try to speak. Nothing comes out. Why is my mouth not working?
Rileyturns to look at me properly now, concern flooding her eyes. I can make it out easily, even in the low-lighting. My heart is thudding against my chest - I can't hear anything but it echoing in my eardrums. What did I just do?
"Ava?" She whispers.
"I need to...I need..."
It's no use, the words aren't there.
Without warning I spring up from my seat, sliding past Nolan and trailing down the stairs. The heavy doors feel like weights as I push them open, the liminal hallways of the cinema making everything more of a blur.
I find the bathroom, opening a stall and locking myself inside. I don't know why I'm reacting like this, why something that felt so euphoric a minute ago has made my mind collapse in on itself.
I need to breathe.
It takes me a second to find the rhythm again, for the room to seem clear again, but I do. I breathe. My head levels itself, I start to gain back my rational thinking. I push strands of hair behind my ears, the action calming me.
What happened? The question circles my brain as I stare at the tiled floor.
Guilt. Stacked, heavy guilt.
I've never felt so good. I can't ever remember a guy having this effect on me. It's overwhelming, too much for my heart, my brain, my senses. To go from that to remembering exactly why I can'tfeel it, can't feel the best I've felt in my life, is like emotional whiplash.
When I was a young kid I was told I felt things too much. I was sensitive, cried a lot, cared too much about everything around me. By the age of seven I'd become quiet, branded shy by teachers and bottled up every sensitivebone in my body.
But the parts of me that feel a lot are still there, absorbing everything. I can try and give in to Nolan but the guilt will tug at me. I can try and be loyal to Riley but burning desire will tug back.
I still haven't decided what I want and that means I'm teetering off the edge of a cliff ready to fall either way. That's what broke me for a moment, stole my words.
It dawns on me that I haven't felt unable to breathe since my dad left.
My phone buzzes in my pocket suddenly, a distraction from my thoughts. I glance at it, a text message appearing in a new chat.
Unknown: I'll be home soon, Ava. Don't forget that I love you.
Unknown: Every girl needs her dad, let me remind you of that. I'll make it up to you, Ipromise.
I thought of him and he appeared. Like a leech, a flash from my past. It makes me feel physically sick, stomach churning at the sight of messages. It's the cherry on top of my already borderline panic attack.
That painful feel pokes into my stomach, every bad feeling tangled together in my gut. I can hear his words from that phone call a few weeks ago, the grime in his voice. He's a liar, he's always been a liar.
He doesn't love me.
I don't want him to make it up to me or fix his mistakes.
I don't want to see him.
My hand fumbles for the lock. I need air. The stall is suddenly suffocating, brain spinning with everything else that had managed to quiet down recently. Nolan's creepy fucking friend, the red car stalking me, my dad contacting me.
Suddenly Riley and Nolan don't seem like the most important problem in the world.
When I rush out the bathroom I smash straight into someone, my head against their chest. I hear the familiar voice before I can even comprehend what's happened.
"Are you okay?"
Nolan's eyes scan me, seriously, like he's taking in every single part of my face to work out an emotion. It's intense, intimidating whilst my head is already spinning with thoughts. I need fresh air.
"You shouldn't have followed me," I mumble, not looking at him, "Riley might suspect something."
"It doesn't matter, not when..." His voice trails off as he steps closer.
I can feel his warm hand on my cheek, wiping away a few loose tears.I'm crying. When did I start crying?
"Hey, hey, I didn't mean to upset you. If I overstepped a boundary, I'm sorry. Shit, Ava, I'm sorry."
I shake my head as much as I can but let him wipe the tears, surrendering to the comfort of skin-to-skin contact. He's moved even closer, body thrumming with warmth beside me. It makes the world stop spinning.
"It's not you," I manage to say, even if he is part of the accumulation of things that led to this stupid fucking emotional outburst.
He goes to open his mouth but pauses when seeing the phone clutched in my hand. His eyes flicker between that and my face, eyebrow arching eventually.
"Your dad?"
He says it so quietly, like the word itself might make me flinch.
I hate that he knows, even without knowing nothing at all. His eyes bear into mine, raw and searching for approval from me. It's just like outside that hospital, a rush of emotion hidden underneath a cracked surface, a silent promise to understand what I'm feeling.
The tears have stopped and yet his hand is still stroking the side of my cheek, an invisible comfort. It keeps me grounded, stops the collapse in my chest, steadies my breathing again. I like to think that the sexual tension is what makes me the weakest but in reality, it's this.
The care. The comforting touches. The warmth in his eyes.
Like this, he consumes me more than ever.
"Can I hug you?" He asks, gaze attached to mine.
God, I would love to hug him.
"You can't..." I say, swallowing my shaky breath. When he goes to contest, something predictable like stop living your life according to Riley, I add more words, "Thank you, though. I appreciate it... I appreciate you being here."
I worry that if I hug him I'll never let go.
His eyes soften but he's still not satisfied, removing his hand from my cheek like it physically hurts him to do so. I give him the softest smile I can, a move to convince him I'm okay. He's made me feel ten times better.
"You should go and tell the others I'm fine, they'll be worried if you're out here too long," I say, clearing my throat, "I'm going to get some air."
"But are you fine?" He asks, still searching me like a fragile object about to break.
I nod, "You made me feel better."
I catch his face brighten at that but he hides it, clearly more prioritised with me. It makes my stomach churn, my own smile blooming brighter. Nolan can really be an asshole but with me, he's the opposite. He's actually almost soppy.
"I'll go," He asserts eventually but lowers his voice to add one more thing, "I am sorry, though, about what happened back there. I didn't mean to freak you out."
I shake my head but he keeps speaking.
"Ava...I know you want this, but we don't have to. Don't ever feel like you have to do anything you're not comfortable with. I'll back off if you really want that, you don't owe me anything."
"No, no," I mutter, something serious fluttering through my voice, "Don't back off, please... I do want this. I want you."
Because, as stupid and reckless as it is, I've made my decision.
This person, whatever they've done with old Nolan, has made me feel safer than I've done in years. And I want that, his comfort, his smiles, every flawed part of him.
I thought I'd already figured that out. I've realised that I had to process the consequences of choosing him too. What it means for Riley.
I still don't know what this is, what we are. However this pans out, it could really hurt my best friend, but I need to accept that as a fact. I need to get used to it.
Being between them is worse than admitting I want to give in to my feelings. I just need to hope that she doesn't hate me forever. I have to be prepared for it, if she does find out. But it's a consequence I'm willing to risk. For us.
I watch as Nolan's eyes light up a little.
It's like he knows I've made a choice too.
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