A Chaotic but Perfect World: In the Epping Forest

Too much romance

-That's...a lot to bear...
Oliver looked at her with sorrow in his eyes.
-Do you...get that type of thoughts now? I mean...do you feel suicidal, worthless or something still?
Serly squinted.
-Well, no...i don't think so. Not that much. I mean, I sometimes wish...I was...never born, never existed...but I don't want to die. I exist, so I have to keep existing. It's fine. It's more of a "the world is on fire" reason, than my inner problems and all.
They glared at each other after finding out each other's deepest stories.
-And...do you...trust me?
He asked carefully.
Her deep breath set an uneasy tone.
-You? Well...I really like how you're honest, open and...authentic. I appreciate these traits, I like knowing what is it you exactly want, expect, not...just a guessing game. I...in all honesty, have always appreciated your brashness. Your insults were compliments to me, because they meant you saw me as just a human, not some always perfect, never mistaken...being. Sure, you didn't mean these insults, but...
A light laugh flew out from his laughs.
-Ah, that's why you liked them, then...so how exactly should I express compliments, when you don't like them? Should I talk in reverse? Say "I hate you and I loathe your company" instead?
After freezing for several seconds, she slowly nodded.
-I actually like that idea... I'm not really comfortable with compliments, so...why not insults? Or better, criticism?
They laughed.
-Yeah, "You're too lovable, Serly, change your behavior a bit, I don't want others stealing you from me!".
-No, no, no, no, no, how about "You're still single? Go find a boyfriend for yourself already!", that's a more classic critique. Maybe constructive in this case, I might just follow the orders.
Faces steered closer, as they soundlessly stared.
Serly broke the silence and chuckled.
-Usually I'm more energized after sleeping for a short time, but I still am tired now.
Oliver smiled.
-I'm all yours, I mean...you can sleep on me, if you want. Everything I say sounds... romantic... I'm all yours?
She laughed and began untying her high ponytail, side-eying him.
-Won't you get bored on your own?
-No.
She skeptically looked at him.
-I won't get bored, don't worry... I'll probably fall asleep...
She smirked at him.
-Fine... but I'm going to sleep on your shoulder, not your lap. Laps are for sitting.
She carefully rested her head on his shoulder. Her cold fingers were interlocked with his.
He looked down at her and held her waist tightly. Her breathing calmed him down. Her warm body was close to his. Her eyes were calmly shut.
He smiled down at her. That warm feeling inside helped him treasure her. He deeply cared about her. He had a soft spot for her. After holding her hand and waist tightly, he shut his eyes.
---
Serly woke up to find him asleep. His scar was glowing under the sun.
She looked around. No one saw them... at least she hoped so...
-They didn't leave the thinker's room, don't worry.
She turned around. Their faces a few millimeters away.
-You're awake.
-You have good eyesight.
He unemotionally stated.
-Not really. Did you at least sleep? Or nap, more correctly.
-Not easily but yeah.
She smiled at him.
-I mean, how was I supposed to sleep when a beauty was sleeping on me?
Oliver continued, smirking, and causing her to chuckle.
-Are you trying to flirt with me?
-Trying and succeeding.
The smirks grew.
-You mean failing.
-Doesn't look like failure to me.
His squinting dark eyes would make any woman skip a heartbeat.
-Now we both need opticians.
She jokingly said.
His eyes travelled from her eyes to her lips.
Her heartbeat fastened. She awkwardly smiled and looked away.
-Failure, huh?
She didn't move her head. Just her eyes.
-Yes, failure. Am I wrong?
He chuckled.
-No, you're not. You're very wrong.
Bravely , Serly fully turned her head in his direction.
-Prove it.
His smirk widened.
-I would love to.
Eyes stared deep.
-No hesitations?
He whispered.
She shook her head.
-Like you said, I'm all yours. Do whatever you want.
He brought her face closer to his and began examining it. Now he knew every single line on her face.
She seemed like she had held her breath. Here's what was in her mind.
-Lust is a sin, lust is a sin, lust is a sin, but he sure is hot, but no! This is a test and lust is a sin. I'm not giving up eternal life for him! Or am I? No I'm not! What is wrong with me?! I need a therapist! I should've went to a psychologist! Why is my body doing weird stuff?
His fingers went from chin to lips. His mouth wasn't fully closed and it was visible that he was licking his teeth.
-What's he doing? Is he going to kiss me? Of course not, he's just trying to get me wet...I mean he's not failing, but he mustn't know that. He'll continue his actions if I don't give up...but I will not lose. Not the argument and, if it goes further, not my virginity...he can't go further, can he? He's a Christian and it's a sin before marriage...
He slowly pushed her to the tree behind her. Her breathing was slowly getting heavier. His hand surfed from her leg to thigh and he didn't move on. He leaned in and began licking her neck.
A moan almost jumped out of her mouth. Her eyes almost closed. And she almost held his head closer to her neck.
Oliver began sucking. He picked up her skin, sucked it for a minute or two, and released it, then continued, but on lower parts.
He lowered his kissing, sucking and licking so much they reached her shoulder.
She bit her lips and smirked.
His eyes looked up at her expression.
-May I?
A chuckle flew out of her bitten lips.
-Not only you may, but also you June.
He looked at her with a raised brow.
-A dad joke. Seriously?
She giggled.
-Come on, get on with it.
Oliver smiled as she giggled.
-And go deep.
She winked, causing his face to go red.
Her shoulder got all naked, and he continued kissing it, while his left hand went front and back on her thigh and his right hand held her clothes away from her shoulder and south.
He glimpsed at her breasts and turned to her questioningly.
She kept smirking.
-More?
He asked amazed and slightly nervous.
Serly chuckled and brought his face closer to herself with her fingers, and whispered in his ear.
-First time you saw them you froze. Now's your chance, I allow you. Or you'll fail to prove me wrong.
Oliver looked at her surprised. She rolled her eyes while still having that smirk and lowered his head to her chest.
His lips went lower to the private destination covered with a black bra, but he did not dare touch them with his hands.
Her crooked smile grew. Her body unwillingly went closer to his.
His free hand reached for her bra strap, tongue unexpectedly flew to her jaw, and hands calmly held her arms.
She put her hands on his shoulders.
He suddenly stopped, smirked and whispered in her ear.
-Still not giving up?
She looked at him while heart beat fast.
-No, I don't give up.
He chuckled. His breath swam on her skin.
The young lad began licking her ear.
She bit her lower lip.
-Your face doesn't say that.
He managed to pass a message through her ear.
She turned to face him.
-That doesn't change the fact that you're failing to prove me wrong. Because this isn't flirting, is it?
-No, this is foreplay. Or sensual intimacy. Unless you don't want to engage, then it's seduction, or sexual assault and rape, but you really want to engage, it seems...
He looked at her and smiled.
-I just...want to kiss you. I don't know why, though.
He looked at her lips then back up, voice calm and sensitive.
-I heard you hate it when people beat around the bush.
She chuckled with pink cheeks and an appreciative smile.
-I...don't want to be kissed...yet...
She pushed him away slowly.
But her thoughts spoke different words, see?
-He wants to kiss me, I also want to kiss him, but I'm all wet and we're probably feeling seductive, I don't think that will lead to good stuff, so I'll refuse... we'll kiss sometime else, when we're feeling in love, not lust.
She wanted to be kissed, but she's a follower of her mind, never letting feelings take control and always understanding consequences.
-Alright...I understand...but hypothetically if you were to be kissed by me, how would you like it? When? Where?
Serly smirked.
-Hypothetically, if you were to kiss me, I wouldn't like it, because I have to be the kisser, not you. As in for when and where...anytime we're alone together, and...anytime we're...feeling stuff for each other.
Oliver smiled.
-Hypothetically, if you were to date someone, would it matter to you that that person isn't Armenian? Since, you know, you're all about keeping the Armenian blood going...
She chuckled.
-Well, hypothetically, if I were to date someone, who's not Armenian, I wouldn't mind... because, honestly, I don't like Armenian men. They're, first of all, way too traditional, they treat women as they were treated in the past, sure, not all men, but many are like that. Besides, they usually fly to Moscow, cheat on their wives with Russian women, create a family, leave their wives unknowing of this and several years later divorce. So, in short, they don't keep themselves as christian men should and I don't like that. That's Eastern Armenians. As in for Western Armenians, they're all over the world, so it's hard to find one. And I can't get a full picture of them, it depends on which culture they have mixed themselves up with.
He snickered at her answer.
-Seriously? They actually do that?
She nodded.
-Yeah, it's even in their serials and films. Women cheat on their husbands with their husbands' best friend or something, who's married, and they have a baby, the baby grows up with someone else, being told they're their child, and dirty secrets open up and all... anyways, it's an Indian drama, same thing, if not worse.
They laughed.
-Well, alright then...so...what's your type? What's the partner of your dreams like? You know, the looks, personality...?
She bit her lips and smirked.
-Partner of my dreams? Well...first of all, a man, a real one, that is. I hate effeminate men, I mean, I just can't be attracted to them...no, never. Let alone transgender men. Never. And by effeminate, I don't mean clean, one who cares about hygiene and calm or reserved, like Armenians mean, but I mean the manners, clothing and all that. I mean the social construct. A biological man with socially constructed masculine traits. Traditional masculine traits. I mean, they also come from biology, from the brain and chemicals, but also from the culture, so I'm calling it a social construct. If a man likes makeup and dresses...no. If he walks and talks in a girly way, you know...there's a noticable difference between the two...then it's a no, again. That being said, about the looks...I prefer darker tones, not blonde or blue eyed...dark, like black hair, dark eyes. The height doesn't matter. Of course, I like muscular and strong men much more than their counterparts, but not too muscular. Average is good. Umm...he has to be a real christian. I don't mean going to church or knowing the Bible by heart, but one who holds and actually follows christian values and beliefs. To me, Christianity isn't my religion, it's my faith. And the best part, the personality... being smart, imaginative, therefore creative is a must. I find confidence, loyalty and protectiveness highly attractive. I find leadership and dominance attractive too, also humor, fun and charisma, and...I also like a little bit of naughtiness, when necessary...not stuck in a mud or one who really worries about consent and is too clingy. That doesn't clash with Christian values, does it?
She wide eyed looked down and right, thinking, whilst he smiled widely.
-No...look, naughtiness isn't evilness or something, right? It's just playfulness...sometimes it gets too serious people angry, sometimes it gets them loosened up and giggly. Depends on who's doing it to who and what kind of a dynamic they have. -Okay...good, then my standards aren't too high.
Oliver raised his eyebrows.
-How would these standards even be too high, when the man of your dreams is sitting right next to you?
He pointed to himself and smiled teasingly.
-Tell me if I'm wrong, I'm open to disagreements...
She giggled.
-You? I can't quite see these traits in you because of my bad eyesight, could you, maybe, come closer?
Coming closer, she pecked his cheek with rosy ones for herself.
Oliver touched the part and smiled at her.
-Really though, do you know how cute you are? I'm not even going to say something like "when you smile", because you manage to fasten my heartbeat even when you're angry.
The fact that she blushed was clear as a newly cleaned mirror. Her hazel brown irises looked down and an upwards bridge was built on her face.
-I-I told you about the man of my dreams, now it's your turn. What's the woman of your dreams like?
Oliver leaned on the tree, looking at the strangely bright and blue sky.
-The woman of my dreams?
He let out a soft chuckle.
-I actually never had a type. Nor an experience of...falling in love or a crush. But...if I were to describe someone I do love...
Fingers ran through his hair.
-Long and dark hair, the most beautiful and expressive brown eyes, rigid strong eyebrows, delicate round nose, pink lips that speak rarely, yet when they do...my attention's all hers, the softest cheeks...the sweetest smile...a ladylike walk...a breezy confidence and bravery, a sharp mind and intellect, that paradoxically contradicts and coexists with the warmest heart, that comes to rescue the exact moment of need and at the same time jerks tears when freezing up and shutting down, with willpower and ambition following her hardworking nature and getting her closer to her big dreams and highly valuable goals...
His face swung her way. Serly was frozen in place.
-I-I would've done mine poetic too, if that was the way that was meant to be said...
She murmured and broke her expression into a shy smile. He looked away once more and bloomed a faded smile.
-Words came on their own...I was just the messenger.
They chuckled and locked eyes, gliding towards lips and surroundings dying, slowly. Lips parted, hearts locked...
She cut the contact and nervously smiled.
-I'm sorry...I'm not ready yet.
He shook his head, eyes shut lightly.
-No need to apologize. I'll wait, even if it's ten years later you'll be ready.
Serly awkwardly looked away, back at him and slowly stood up and walked away.
He watched her legs go forward fast and hips swing one after the other. Her long dark hair flew freely and she disappeared behind the door of the thinker's room.