Sinfully Imperfect

57. Confrontations & Moments

----------------------------AYLWIN'S POV------------------------

The crispness of the winter dawn was purely magical. Or perhaps it had to do something with the brunette that laid on my chest wrapped in comforters. I didn't know the exact time. Though the darkness of the curtained room was enough for a wild guess. Somewhere before five or so. My erratic sleeping habits were usual and true to their routine. Punctual shit!

I sighed, increasing the temperature of the room heater. It was snowing outside. Heavily snowing. I wouldn't doubt if the windows got the hoarfrost. The muskiness of hibernal times had a special place in my heart. I never understood why, though. It must be due to the fact that we were quite similar in so many ways. Cold. Dark. Mysterious. Like the brume.

Alright, enough narcissism for the day.

I turned my attention back to the messy hair sprawled over me. I laid my head on my hand while the other one caressed her hair. We were tangled. Limbs to limbs. Flesh to flesh. The exuding heat was heartwarming. Her soft breath every now and then tickled my flesh. Weird but funny.

I closed my eyes, savoring and appreciating the amorousness. The inclination towards this predominant predilection was spurting inside me. Filling the worn-out winter-tide edges with cloying condiments.

I felt her stir. Her body shifting slightly. She craned her head, moving away. Then, ever so slowly, she stilled. Her movements were stiff, silent, and soulful. At a snail's pace, she placed her chin on my chest. Reclining her head so that I could feel the fiery intensity of her gaze.

The air around us seemed to cackle. The muted popping was discreetly a mere distraction as I waited with bated breath for her voice.

"Aylwin." 

Jesus Christ, the way she calls my name! Ah!

It was like the sweetest of all alluring calls. A flute of beckoning knocking the doors of my heart. The sensuous tinge it withheld had my insides somersaulting in the most bizarre way. Crap, when did I turn so pathetic?

Oh, wait, we all knew that.

"Hmm." I hummed lowly, feeling her eyes on me. Her gaze tickled my body as the scrutinizing continued.

"Will you ever hurt me?" The question had my eyes snapping open at breakneck speed. The weight of the words and wailing syllables broke a dam of emotions inside me.

Gazing at her keenly, I tried to pinpoint exactly what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. The way her eyes held me hostage was always beyond my imagination. The wildest of wild dreams about her couldn't even comprehend the extent of my addiction to this beguiling brunette.

Hurt her? What made her think this? The thoughts that pirated me from then on had a foreign nuance to them. The questions that plagued my mind were calamitous yet zooming on the needle of uncertainty.

Who hurt her? Did she know about Ian? Did he do something? I swore to God that if her question had anything to do with that bastard, then he was in deep shit.

I gazed into her eyes for as long as I could. Just a look at her, and I had already crossed all lines of fantasies. Sometimes it made me wonder if she really was so oblivious to the abysmal extent of power she had over me.

I let out a shaky exhale as I let all my guards down. I let the emotions resurface in my eyes. The dullness vanishing in the languid plays. I poured out the words only to soothe her fears.

"I've always loved risk. But with you, my dear Fresher, each step I take with delicacy I didn't know even existed in me." My knuckles tenderly stroked her cheeks.