CHAPTER THIRTY #3
“If this isn’t something you want to do we can always go and–”
“Nathaniel,” I interrupted, voice steady despite the nerves gushing through my body, “this is perfect.”
His face lit up, shoulders dropping with relief. I watched as he opened the basket and retrieved two wine glasses, the intense, fruity aroma filtering through my nostrils as he poured us each a glass.
Nathaniel handed me the wine, and I took it gratefully despite my initial trepidation. Alcohol had never appealed to me. The scent alone turned me off. But I raised the glass to my lips anyway, tension locking my body as though I was being held at gunpoint.
Watching me over the rim of his glass, Nathaniel raised both eyebrows and shook his head, the corner of his lips pulling up into an amused smile. “Augustus…don’t drink the wine if you don’t want to.”
“No, no, I want to,” I lied, tipping my head back slightly as the wine trickled down my throat. I coughed, lowering the glass as my eyes watered from the foul taste.
Nathaniel laughed and leaned forward to snatch the glass out of my hands. “We can paint and sip without the wine.”
“But–”
“It’s fine,” Nathaniel waved a dismissive hand at me. “I was only going to have a little bit anyway…since I have to drive back and everything.”
I nodded, a little embarrassed, and turned my attention to the paint and blank canvases. “What should we paint?”
“Hm.” Nathaniel looked around, no doubt searching for inspiration, when his eyes returned to me. “I was thinking of painting you.”
“Me?”
“I’m not very good so you’ll probably look like a weird blob, but it gives me a chance to stare at you without being weird.”
“Oh, and telling me all that definitely makes you sound less weird,” I said sarcastically.
A laugh, soft and delicate, escaped his throat as he reached for two empty yogurt cartons and filled them with water. “What can I say? I’m an honest guy.”
“Too honest,” I mused as I took one of the cartons and selected a paint brush. “I guess I shall paint you, then.”
Playfulness glistened in Nathaniel’s honey-brown eyes as he leaned down, elbow propped up on a cushion as he flashed me a smirk. “Shall I model for you?”
“You look ridiculous,” I said.
With a pout, he sat up and opened the paint tubes, pouring them onto his palette before I did the same with mine. “Well, if you do need me to pose,” he played along, “just let me know.”
I dipped my brush in green paint, using gentle brush strokes to create the green field of grass behind him. To lighten the dark green, I used another brush to dip into the white paint, the blend of colours creating the perfect shade to match the grass.
Nathaniel and I shared glances as we worked on our artwork, my tongue in between my teeth as I outlined the shape of Nathaniel’s seated body. He was all lean angles, though I tried to capture the soft edges of his face beneath his dark hair.
I didn’t know how Nathaniel was doing, but when a string of curses escaped his throat and wet paint splashed onto his trousers, I assumed he wasn’t doing too well.
Biting back a smile, I gently lowered my paint brush and fixed my gaze on him as he tried to clean the paint, smearing it all up his thigh.
“Bloody yellow paint,” he hissed.
“Instead of fighting with the paint,” I mused, “how about we do something you actually enjoy.”
“No, no, I’m having fun,” he tried to assure me despite his clear frustration.
“Nathaniel.”
“I swear I am! I’m just having some issues with cleaning myself up.”
Barely suppressing a chuckle, I crawled towards him and peeled off my jacket, sacrificing the material to try and savour some of his.
This close, I could smell the rich scent of his floral cologne and vanilla shampoo.
I could also make out his attempted artwork—it was human, though it didn’t look like me.
“Your jacket…” Nathaniel frowned.
“A small sacrifice for your dignity,” I teased.
“It’ll stain…”
“Definitely.”
“I’m sorry.”
I gave him a look. “You’re sorry that I chose to help clean you with my jacket?”
He nodded, bottom lip jutted out like a child.
I nudged him playfully, with perhaps a little more force than necessary, sending him lying back on the rug, head landing on the grass.
In an attempt to prevent the fall, his arm snaked around my waist, dragging me down with him.
I barely had time to cushion my fall, hands braced on either side of his head.
Grass tangled in between black strands of hair, white teeth glistening as his lips spread into a dimpled smile, he looked at me as though I was exactly where he wanted me to be.
Heat simmered in the pit of my stomach, rising to inflame my cheeks as I struggled to breathe at the sight of Nathaniel underneath me.
This is wrong, the Devil said in a singsong tone.
If the Devil thought it wrong, then it must have been right.
Nathaniel’s gaze danced between my eyes and my lips, my heart skipping a beat at the realisation that he wanted to kiss me.
Did I want him to kiss me? Did I want to kiss him?
These questions soared through my brain, one after the other, and before I had the chance to process a single one, his hand was cupping my neck, the tips of his fingers tangled in my brown curls.
“Augustus,” he whispered my name like he was down on his knees, worshipping me like one would a God. “I really want to kiss you.”
I swallowed, my heart pounding so loud that it thundered in my ears. My tongue moved to wet my lip, an involuntary expression of my desire. I had never wanted to kiss anyone before. And yet here I was, mouth-watering at the mere thought of Nathaniel’s lips against mine.
“I think I want you to kiss me too,” I whispered.
Nathaniel smiled, hand tightening in my hair as he brought me closer to the curve of his perfect mouth.
My eyelids fluttered shut the moment our lips connected.
It was a gentle press of lips, both asking the other for permission.
His lips were soft, inviting, and warm. I had no desire to pull away, not even as Nathaniel’s other hand slid up to my chest. Could he feel my wildly beating heart?
Unable to hold myself atop him without crushing his body, I rolled to the side, Nathaniel following me, his tongue sliding along my bottom lip as my lips parted to grant him entry. It felt good. Intoxicating.
A quiet, whisper of a moan escaped Nathaniel’s throat, and he deepened the kiss. His hands grew more adventurous, sliding underneath my shirt, his hands burning my cool skin.
It was then I pulled away, panting as I fought to catch my breath and create as much distance between us as possible.
Nathaniel sat up, his lips red and swollen, eyes dark beneath his long, slow blinking lashes. He adjusted his trousers discreetly, his gaze apologetic as it settled on my trembling hands.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, “I…didn’t mean to…make you uncomfortable.”
I shook my head, embarrassed, scared and guilty.
I wanted him to kiss me. I loved the feeling of his lips against mine, but the idea of more sent violent shockwaves through my body.
I didn’t want that. And I knew Nathaniel would not have pressured me to do so, but knowing he wanted to was a wake up call.
I could not give him what he wanted. I could not string him along.
“You…you didn’t do anything wrong,” I said, scrambling to my feet. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think we should…”
“Should what?”
“Do that again.”
Nathaniel frowned as he climbed to his feet. “Was I that bad of a kisser?” He asked it jokingly, but I could tell by his wounded expression that there was some genuine insecurity there.
“No, of course not.” I wanted to bury myself in a hole and lay there until death enveloped me into its arms.
“What is it then?” he asked, voice gentle.
“I don’t want to have sex.”
“We don’t have to have sex."
“But you want to.”
Nathaniel infiltrated the space between us, hand raised toward my cheek, his expression softening as he looked deep into my eyes. “I want to be with you. I want to be with you in any way you want to be with me.”
I must have had doubt written all over my face for he added, “I am not here to change you, Augustus. I am not here to wait until you are ready. If you one day decide you want to take that step, then great, I’ll be with you. And if you decide you never want to go beyond kissing, that’s great too!”
“I just don’t want you to miss out on anything,” I whispered.
Nathaniel tilted my head up to look at him. “All I want is what we have now. Art galleries and flowery fields and late-night study sessions locked in a library."
My vision blurred. “Really?”
“Really,” he confirmed, pressing a feather-light kiss to the top of my head. “Now, let’s finish up your painting, hm?” He pulled away and lowered himself back down onto a cushion. “I can’t wait to see what masterpiece you've created."