CONFUSION

I walk into the house, still drenched, still pant-less. Do I care? Absolutely not. I'm thankful that no one seems to be home as I walk to my room.  

Andrea?" Christophe barges through my door just as I close it.

So much for an empty house.

"Yeh?" I ask him. 

"I," he begins then stops, "where are your pants?" I look down at my bare legs and shrug my shoulders.

"Doesn't matter," I look up at him to find him starring at me, his nostrils flaring slightly.

"What have you been doing?" He asks me tensely. His normal softness completely gone. 

I don't respond, instead, I shrug my top off and walk towards the bathroom. Completely unaffected how close I am to being naked in front of him. It doesn't falter him though, he follows after me, blocking the door I try shutting in his face with his boot.

"Tell me Andrea," he doesn't let up. I muster up enough energy to glare at him, which has no effect and probably doesn't convey anything.

"Nothing Chris, as I said," I try to turn away, but his fingres curl around my arm.

"Then why do you smel-, I mean look like that?" He stutters. I raise my eyebrows at him, "Smell?"

"I just mean uh chlorine," he says, "that's not the point anyway, where were you?" I start feeling angry, "if we're safe here, why does it matter? Why do you have to keep tabs on me?"

"That's what protection is Andrea."

I give him the most irritated expression I could. He frowns at it.

"You might be safe here, but we can't be too careful," he explains further. Like I haven't heard this a thousand times before. I have no reply. Nothing I want to say. My silence pushes him on though. 

"What is it, Andrea?" He asks. I whirl on him, "What is what Chris? What do you want me to say?" He looks shocked but recovers quickly. "I want to know how long you've been falling. I WANT to know how I can catch you. I NEED you to tell me how to help you."

I stare at him. The anger towards him fizzling slightly. He clenches his jaw, "That anger you had towards me is the first bit of emotion I've seen from you in over a month Andrea." It's like he's in my head. He moves closer to me, so our bodies are almost touching. I do nothing but stare at his chest.

"Andrea." He says. I look up at him. He's breathing heavily through his nostrils. I realize I'm cold. So cold. Even though the heater is on. Even though I had turned the shower on before Chris had barged in behind me. The steam from the hot water now circulating around the room. Around us. Even though the fog, I could see his light blue eyes. Which were starring at me intensely.   

"I'm going to help you," he says, but I barely hear him over the thrumming I now feel in my head. The whole world has become muted to me. My vision zeroes in on those blue eyes, which sparkle to where they seem to glow at me. 

"I'm going to help you," he repeats, slowly this time. His hands gripping my arms gently. With each word, I feel lighter and lighter. My head is swimming in light blue hues and fog. My hands itch at the sight, eager to draw what's in front of them but I don't move. Christophe leans forward brushing his lips against my cheek, nibbling along my jaw. I barely feel it. 

His mouth moves to my neck. He leaves a trail of kisses down my neck, then along my shoulder.  

In a fluid motion, he cups my butt with his hands, lifting me up so we are face to face. He presses his lips to mine softly. I react to him. My mouth moving in-sync with his. He moves us into the shower, the hot water scalding through my hair and down my back.

He pushes me into the marble wall, using it to hold me up whilst his hand peels the wet hoodie over my head. He barely breaks our lips apart. His tongue caressing mine, his hands moving to unclasp my black bra. He finally puts me down, still kissing me as he unbuckles his drenched pants, kicking them to the side. I help him remove his shirt, pressing my chest into his. 

He is solid against me. His strength not matching his lean figure, his long muscular torso. I run my hands up and down it. Feeling the curvature under my fingers. He groans as I pass my palm over his jocks, rubbing him slightly. He bites my shoulder as I continue to rub him, his body shuddering with each movement. 

He hastily removes my bra, pressing his solid chest against mine. He kisses me again, tracing my torso with elegant fingers. He gently moves then down, pushing past the string of my underwear. I gasps as he pushes them inside of me, and pulls them out again. He does it repeatedly, and slowly. 

Too slowly. 

"Your soaking," he grunts in my ear, "and tight." I moan in response. My legs struggling to keep my upright. He pulls his fingers away, using them to push my underwear down. I win from the lack of contact.

"Andrea?" John calls from outside my bedroom. Christophe is away from me from and across the bathroom within seconds. Literal seconds. So fast the force of it causes me to stumble sideways. 

He's wrapped a towel around him when I recover. Stiffly walking out the bathroom and into my bedroom without another glance at me. I hear the muffled voices of him and John, too low for me to make out what they're saying. I turn the water off, grabbing the white towel and wrapping it tightly around my body.

I peek through the bathroom door. John and Christophe are squared to each other. The former pointing a finger at the latter. John stops immediately, his eyes adverting towards me. He looks between me and Christophe before shaking his head, turning, and walking out of my room. Christophe turns to look at me, his eyes holding no emotion, before following. 

It takes me a minute to register. A minute longer to move from the bathroom. A minute more to realize what I'd just done. I drop the towel, grabbing the nearest, driest hoodie I can find, and sink into my queen bed. I lie there, staring at the ceiling before darkness consumes me.