Pulling into Luka's street, she parked her car behind his truck and just sat there. The lights in his apartment were dull in the windows and she could see colours moving across the ceiling in the lounge room meaning that he was watching television. Gone straight home hours before but after leaving John at nine-thirty, she had driven around downtown Chicago for two hours watching the various people meandering about the streets, living their lives, wondering whether or not she should heed John's advice and talk to Luka.
Talking wasn't something they were good at: wasn't something she was good at. Talking around things, making love, making dinner: that they were good at. But then, maybe, if they talked, it wouldn't be like this.
Eventually, she climbed out of the car and trudged up the steps. She opened the front door quietly with the key that Luka had refused to take back off her. She didn't know if Luka would be asleep or not, as according to John, he'd had a pretty rough day at work. She stepped down the stairs, deposited her coat and bag in the kitchen area before moving to the lounge. She couldn't help the gentle smile that escaped her lips as she saw him, curled up on the sofa that was far too small for his large frame, his head tucked into the corner of the sofa, hit butt hanging over the edge.
She walked up to his head and ran her fingers through his hair and he shifted but didn't waken. She watched him for a few seconds as he licked his lips and shuffled about more on the sofa. She sighed and closed her eyes, retracting her hand and moving to sit on the coffee table in front of him. She loved watching him like this. She loved the way he was so… human. Sighing, she closed her eyes and wondered how she could ever tire of him. But that wasn't the problem, it was the possibility ofhim tiring her that was.
"Hey," she heard his voice croak into the dim room as he picked up the remote and flicked off the television.
She hadn't even realised he had woken up.
"Hey," she smiled slightly and watched him again, feeling her lips begin to tremble.
"What are you doing here?" He grumbled as he sat up and pulled a hand through his hair. "Have you been eating garlic?" he asked with a frown on his face as he tried to see through his sleep-glazed eyes.
She cleared her throat and stood up, smiling.
"Yeah, John and I were out for dinner," she replied and hovered in front of his seated form and saw him purse his lips.
She waited until he opened his arms to her before sliding onto his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him tightly to her chest. She inhaled his scent and breathed out deeply into his neck as his arms slid around her waist coaxing her further into him.
"You and John get on really well, don't you?" She heard him mumble into her chest and she pulled back slightly, looking down her nose to his upturned eyes.
"He's my friend," she retaliated, more harshly than she had intended.
She saw him purse his lips again and look away to the side as he shrugged.
"I'm just saying, I wasn't implying anything."
"Yeah," she almost scoffed and he looked back up at her again with a grimace on his face.
"What is wrong with you lately?" He asked as he pushed her off him and stood up, marching around to the other side of the coffee table. "You've been acting like this for weeks now!"
Sam said nothing as she pulled her legs up to her chest and glared at him from beneath her eyelashes.
"If you want to end this, then end it! There is the door, Sam, walk out of it if you want!" He yelled mutedly and raised his arm in the direction of the door.
She didn't move.
"If that's what you really want, then I'll go," she muttered icily into her forearms.
He exhaled deeply and dropped his arm, scrubbing his hand across his face. He couldn't do this for much longer. He missed the days when they were happy, when she wasn't acting as if she didn't want to be with him. He missed her.
"You know that's not what I want, Sam," he muttered and looked back to her, sinking down to his haunches, leaning his arms against the table in front of him. "I just feel like you've been waiting for me to say that for weeks now."
She looked up at him then. John was right. She had been pushing him away, and he was hurting because of it. She was hurting because of it. Seeing him like this, so desperate, so desolate made her feel like an island with no bridges. She was isolated and it was all her own making.
"C'mere," she muttered and indicated with her head the space that he had recently vacated.
She watched him as he debated with himself. In those few seconds, Sam realised that he was a boat, sailing further and further away from her. And she was creating the wind that was caught in his sails, pushing him further and further away from her.
Closing her eyes, she sighed deeply and when she opened them again, he was hovering over the seat next to her, looking uncertain and fragile. Shifting herself so there was enough room for the both of them; Sam held her breath as he sat down.
All you gotta do is talk to him…
The problem was - they didn't talk. It wasn't their forte.
An awkward silence fell between them. It's ridiculous – they shouldn't be acting like this. This wasthem.
"I just… I don't know what you want me to do anymore."
She turned to him then, biting her bottom lip, her eyes raking in his disquieted face.
"I'm not even sure I know anymore," she mumbled and looked away from his face as he winced painfully.
Her gaze fell out of the window, to the late disappearing twilight. It was a beautiful night out, the hazy stars brightening every second with the disappearance of the flaming orange ball of light, slipping slowly behind the Chicago skyline. Breathtaking she had once described it as.
"I just… I need to know one thing," he murmured and Sam turned to him and nodded evanescently. "Do you… I mean are you still… I feel ridiculous asking you this."
Sam smiled, quietly amused by his mumblings.
"Come on, it's just me," she told him and let out an airy laugh.
"That's just it… I don't know how to talk to you, anymore." Sam gulped. Hearing him say that had hurt much more than she had thought it would. She felt as though someone had just punched her in the gut, leaving her winded and breathless. "I just… are you still in love – with me."
Sam turned sharply to him, and gawked. "Ofcourse I am!" She exclaimed and plunged her hand into his thick black hair. "So much."
He nodded and bit the corner of his lip. "Good, that's… good." He turned to her and her hand slid down across his ear and he smiled tiredly at her. "I was afraid that… well, you know."
Sam leaned forward and he pulled her across his lap. Resuming her earlier position astride him, Sam stroked his hair as she fought back tears. God, she was such a chicken heart when it came to this man. An ounce of pain from him and she felt it like a tonne of bricks.
"Hey… are you okay?" He asked as he felt her arms begin to tremble.
She smiled slowly and shook her head, leaning her forehead against his, holding his gaze.
"I just… I love you, I love you so much."
He smiled as she wrapped herself around him again, her legs tightening around his waist so much so that he feared she would cut the circulation off to his legs. He pulled her just as tightly to him and brushed his fingers up and down her spine in a comforting gesture as he felt his shoulder begin to dampen under her tears.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked quietly into her hair as she took in a trembling breath.
"Yeah."
The word was mumbled against his neck and he nodded, stroking her hair now, his other hand resting on the top of her thigh at his waist and he stroked his thumb over the denim material of her trousers.
He didn't know what to say so he said nothing, letting his actions be the comfort. He felt her breathing even out after a while and he turned his head into her hair and kissed her jaw.
Picking himself up off the sofa, he held Sam's thighs in place with his arms, carried her up the stairs to their bedroom and laid her down on the bed before climbing in beside her. Her beauty still awed him and he couldn't resist stroking her face with his finger. Her skin was always so soft, her lips always so full and he wondered how he could ever survive without her.
She opened her eyes under his touch and watched him as he gazed at her with such adoration that it shook her to her core.
"Make love to me, Luka," she whispered to him and saw his eyes dart to her lips.
He leaned over her and pressed his mouth to hers, his hands stroking lovingly over her body. His hands caressed her with such adoration, such gentleness; his lips and tongue kissed and teased her until she was sure she could handle it no more. His gentleness still surprised her – he treated her as though she were porcelain sometimes but other times they were so frenzied and hurried that she was unsure how neither of them were injured. As much as she loved their more passionate trysts, she had to admit she preferred the more sensual, tender moments where she was left knowing how deeply he loved her.
When she felt that she could take no more of his teasing, she hooked her hands under his shoulders and pulled him up to her, delving her lips onto his neck, nibbling and tasting his skin there, her hands stroking up and down his back, across his chest until i he /i was the one begging for her to stop, to let him take her.
His mouth met hers as their bodies joined, their tongues tangling, teasing, stroking with such tender passion as their lower bodies joined in a timeless melody. She cried out his name as she was awash with emotions and sensations and dizzy from her bodies yearning for release. He stilled within her and stared down at her and she almost cried at the torturous pleasure of having him staring at her with eyes heavy with passion.
"Please…" she panted and she didn't have to ask twice.
When it was over and he was collapsed on top of her, she cradled his head to her chest and stroked his hair with her fingers as he traced his hands up and down her rib cage. She tingled from where he touched her and she rolled her head back on the pillows.
This was their language.
--
He reached out to find her body but was met with cold, empty air and he opened his eyes. The clock read 0221 and he closed his eyes before rolling onto his back. Opening them again, he scanned the room for her presence and saw her stretched along the length of the wide windowsill, looking out across the slumbering city with a sheet draped around her body.
He stood up from the bed, pulled on his boxers and moved towards her quietly. He stood beside her, observing the horizon lightening as the sun began to peak her weary head over the darkness and he sighed. She pressed her shoulder into his abdomen and he slid his arms around her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
"What are you doing up?" he asked quietly, the darkness making him want to whisper so as not to break the gentleness of the moment.
"Just thinking," she whispered back, her head pressing into his chest as her cool hand moved up to rest on his wrist.
He sighed under her touch, revelling in the tingling sensation that still wormed its way around his body.
"What about?"
She shook her head and her hand on his wrist tightened.
"Nothing in particular." She was silent again and he leaned more into her, pulling her body tighter to him. "I forget sometimes how much I love you," she muttered and Luka felt a lone tear drop onto his joined hands and he frowned slightly.
"Hey…" he admonished quietly, pulling body around so her legs swung off the sill and her back pressed against the glass. He watched her face as she stared at the ground and he used the pads of his thumb to wipe away the tear track that marked her cheek. "What's brought all this on?" he asked as he smiled slightly.
She said nothing but sobbed slightly and pushed her head into his abdomen, throwing her arms around his waist and clutching at his back. He felt her tears moisten the skin on his abdomen and track down to his waistband. He cradled her head for a moment before bending down to her seated height and held her face in his hands.
"Sam, what's wrong? Let me help you," he stressed, his heart clenching at seeing her in such an emotional state and not being able to help her.
She simply shook her head again and wiped at her face.
"I should go," she stood up quickly and brushed past him slowly.
He reached his arm up and caught onto her wrist, holding her back. "Let me help you, Sam. Talk to me. Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."
She slumped back down onto the window sill, the sheet slipping down her body a little more, revealing more skin than Luka thought he could handle.
"I don't know," she mumbled and he poked at her petted bottom lip causing her to laugh. "I just… I've never felt like this before and it scares me, Luka. I'm scared that we'll lose the whole… sparkage thing – and I'm scared. I'm scared that you'll wake up one day and not want to be with me because you're bored of me."
And suddenly he realised why she had been pulling away from him. All the time he had thought she was bored of him but she was scared that he would get bored of her.
"That's not going to happen, Sam," he told her confidently but she shook her head.
"How do you know that?" She asked uncertainly, her fingers fiddling with his as they rested now in her lap.
"Because you're beautiful," he stroked her cheeks and tilted her head up. "You're beautiful and I love you," he told her, holding her eyes as he did so, speaking the words that he so rarely said in English but uttered to her in Croatian all the time.
She smiled brightly despite herself and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, her tongue seeking entrance to his mouth. Helpless to do anything else, Luka granted it and pulled her body with him back towards the bed.
As they fell back onto the mattress, Sam groaned and pulled her lips away from his.
"I should go," she muttered and began to sit up but Luka held her in place.
"It's already three in the morning. Can't you just stay here? For tonight?" He pleaded with her, his fingers stroking across her shoulder blades, slowly inching down her back, taking the sheet with him.
She didn't answer him verbally, but her lips on his, her hands stroking his face were answer enough for him.
TBC