I WANT YOU

For several minutes, Flora Amor searched for Dixal until at last she spotted him helping himself to food from the long buffet table.

She quickly stood, balancing a plate already piled high with food.

“Hoy, Beshie! You greedy thing. You’ve still got plenty there!” Mariel teased from behind her.

Trying to act casual, she strolled over to her boyfriend, pretending to get more food.

He reached for some salad.

She picked up some too, and their eyes met.

“Meet me outside the gate,” he whispered, before quickly walking away.

She blushed. Had she heard that right? Did he really want her to meet him outside the gate? A sudden thrill rushed through her. She couldn’t stop grinning as she walked back to where her friends sat.

“Beshie, the food here is so good, especially this salad,” she said, still giddy.

“Really? Is this your first time eating stuff like that, Beshie?” Mariel asked, eyes wide.

She nodded eagerly and dug into her food, but her thoughts were far from the meal. They were with him.

“Ouch, Beshie. My stomach hurts. I think I ate too much too fast,” she muttered after a while, pressing a hand to her stomach.

Anton stood up immediately.

“Wait, I’ll grab the medicine for your stomach from my room,” he said, hurrying off.

“I’ll go to the restroom, Beshie. I might take a while, okay? Just tell Anton to wait for me here. My stomach really hurts.” She pulled a pained face, clutching her stomach as she excused herself.

“Alright, Beshie. Take your time,” Mariel replied, still busy with her food.

Flora Amor slipped away quickly, pretending to head for the restroom, but instead she sneaked outside, unnoticed. She went straight out the gate.

The moment Dixal saw her, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward his car.

Her smile reached her ears as she gazed at him, but it quickly faded when she caught the hungry way he was staring at her.

“Damn! Why are you so beautiful?” he cursed under his breath.

“Huh?” was all she could manage.

She felt a jolt of nervous energy as his eyes lingered on her shoulders, then traveled slowly down her body.

“Amor…” he breathed, looking back into her face, as if asking permission.

He gently cupped the back of her neck and pressed a kiss against her ear.

She flinched, tickled by the touch.

“Amor…” he murmured again, his lips brushing the back of her ear.

“I can’t help it, sweetie,” he whispered, his breathing quickening.

She didn’t know what to do, didn’t even know what she was feeling in that moment.

“I want you, Amor,” he confessed in a strained voice, pulling back just enough to search her face.

The sound of his voice, the way he spoke her name, sent currents of electricity coursing through her, just like the first time he kissed her. She closed her eyes, silently giving her consent.

Dixal tilted her chin and kissed her lips—slowly, reverently. She moaned softly, her hands instinctively finding his neck and pulling him closer.

He groaned in response.

“Amor…” he said between kisses.

His tongue teased against her lips, seeking entry. She parted her mouth with a soft moan, surrendering.

She was lost to reason, swept into another world where only the two of them existed.

“I want you, sweetie… I really want you,” he murmured with raw desire.

He left her lips, trailing kisses down her neck, his hands cupping her breasts.

She arched into him, shuddering with pleasure.

Not content with merely sitting side by side, she climbed onto his lap, guiding his hand beneath her bra. He groaned loudly, pulling down her top and kissing her bare skin.

“Ohh Amor… I love you. I’m crazy in love with you…” he whispered again and again as he suckled her.

His words set her ablaze. She no longer knew what she was doing—only that she wanted to please him, to give him what he longed for.

She felt his hardness beneath her.

“Amor… Amor…”

She took his hand and guided it between her thighs.

“Ohh… damn it!” he groaned hoarsely, then suddenly stopped, burying his face against her chest.

She froze, stunned. What were they doing?

“How can I stay away from you when I’m madly in love with you?” he whispered, voice breaking.

She swallowed hard, unable to speak, her own body trembling with want.

“Amor, stay away from me before it’s too late,” he pleaded again.

But his shoulders were trembling now. His face remained buried against her chest, while one of her arms circled his neck and the other still held his hand between her thighs.

“I love you. I want to be your wife.” She had no idea where the words came from—they simply slipped out.

His shoulders shook harder. Was he… crying?

“Dixal, why are you crying?” she asked gently.

Moments ago, they were both lost in moans. Now, tears?

She lifted his face and kissed him softly.

“I’ll marry you. I’ll be your wife. Why would I ever leave you?” she whispered tenderly.

“Why are you so innocent?” was all he managed before pulling her into a tight embrace, then setting her back down beside him.

Hand in hand, they stared into nothingness.

“Will you still accept me even if there are many things I haven’t told you?” he asked after a heavy silence.

“Yes. I love you. I need to understand you. Just promise me I’ll be the only one you’ll marry,” she replied, her eyes fixed on the distance.

He turned to her.

“You’re the only one I’ll ever love and marry. I’ll only ever be like this with you. Nobody else can touch me but you.”

She smiled, studying his face.

“You won’t betray me?” she asked softly.

He shook his head.

“Good boy,” she teased, leaning against his shoulder.

If only they could stay like this forever.

“Why did you stop earlier?” she finally asked, embarrassed.

“Because I want to bring you to the altar pure. That part is for after we’re married.”

She giggled. She had chosen the right man to love.

“You won’t cross the line?”

“No.”

“Even if I stripped in front of you?” she teased again.

He kissed her forehead.

“Even if you did, until we’re married,” he said firmly.

“Why?”

“Because that’s how much I love you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, closing her eyes and savoring the moment.

Minutes passed before he spoke again.

“Fix yourself up now. You should go back inside before they start looking for you.”

She obeyed like a child, adjusting her clothes, then leaned close for one last kiss.

“You’re sure you won’t take it from me until we’re married?” she teased once more.

“Oh, stop teasing me, Amor,” he chuckled, tapping her forehead lightly and pushing her face away.

She opened the door but turned back, planting a quick kiss on his lips.

“I love you, Dixal Amorillo,” she said before stepping out.

He was left smiling, then broke into laughter, biting his lip.

“I love you, Flora Amor. I love you… I love you… I damn love you…” he kept repeating, as if wishing the wind would carry his words to her.

Flora Amor giggled as she entered the gate, feeling as if she were floating on air. She could still hear his voice, still feel his kisses. She pressed a shy finger against her lips, giggling to herself, barely noticing the two people she passed.

It still felt like his tongue was inside her mouth.

She giggled again, overcome with delight—then quickly scolded herself.

“If I’d known you’d do this to me, I wouldn’t have come with you.”

“Huh?”

She halted. That voice—was that her father?

She turned to look back at the gate, just as a man and woman stepped out, clearly a couple in the middle of a quarrel.

But she knew she’d heard her father’s voice.

What was he doing here? Had Anton’s father invited him?

She shook her head. Maybe she was imagining things. And besides, that couple was clearly married and arguing. Her parents had never once argued, not even raised their voices.

Still… she knew it was her father’s voice.

“Beshie!” Mariel’s voice cut through her thoughts as she ran toward her.

“Beshie, where have you been? We’ve been looking all over the house for you!” her friend demanded, worried.

Guilt washed over her.

“I just stepped out for some air after going to the restroom. It was too noisy inside,” she lied, avoiding Mariel’s eyes.

Her friend tugged her back inside.

“Bakla, Beshie’s here!” she called to Anton, who immediately rushed over.

“Where did you go? Are you okay? Does your stomach still hurt?” Anton asked, one question after another.

She couldn’t look either of them in the eye. Guilt gnawed at her.

“I’m thirsty, Beshie. And where’s my food?” she said, changing the subject.

“What do you want? I’ll get it for you,” Anton offered.

“Eggplant,” she replied, sitting down at the table.

“Eggplant?!” both Anton and Mariel exclaimed.

“Beshie, there’s no eggplant here,” Mariel added quickly.

“Beshie, can you take me home? I’m really not feeling well,” she said to Anton, sneaking him a quick glance.

“I’ll head home too,” Mariel chimed in.

After saying goodbye to Anton’s parents, they headed out the door. Just as they stepped outside, they ran into Dixal.

“Let’s go home, Beshie,” Flora Amor said loudly to Mariel, though the words were meant for him.

She didn’t look back, and neither did he, as they left.

...........….........

It was nearly eleven-thirty in the evening when Flora Amor finally got home. Everyone was asleep except her mother, who sat waiting in the living room.

She hadn’t let Anton escort her inside, though he’d wanted to.

“Ma, why are you still awake?”

Her mother jumped, startled at the sound of her voice.

“You’re home, anak,” she said weakly.

“Ma, where’s Papa?”

“At the market. He’s watching over the goods we didn’t sell yesterday,” her mother replied faintly.

Flora Amor sat beside her and hugged her tightly.

“Ma, once I finish school and get a job, I don’t want you and Papa working anymore. You’ll just stay home and take care of my siblings,” she promised, resting her chin on her mother’s shoulder.

Her mother suddenly burst into tears.

“Oh, Ma. Why so dramatic? Is something wrong?” she asked, worried, studying her mother’s face.

It was clear she had been crying even before Flora Amor came home.

“Nothing. I’m just happy, because even though school is hard for you, you’re content with what little you have,” her mother explained, caressing her face.

“Of course, Ma. I don’t want you and Papa to suffer,” she whispered, hugging her again.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” she said gently.

“I already told your Papa I wouldn’t go to the market tomorrow because I’m not feeling well,” her mother added while fixing their bedding.

“Get some rest, Ma. Harold and I will do the laundry tomorrow,” Flora Amor said, changing clothes before lying down beside her.