I see Becky enter my apartment with her copy of the the door keys, taking off her shoes and socks from my peripheral vision. My eyes remain on the show that I’m watching as I hear her footsteps come closer to my couch. I grab a stuffed toy resting on top of the back rest of the couch, holding it close to my chest. With goosebumps appearing all over my chest, I swallow hard as Becky sits next to me. I gnaw on my lower lip as she removes her jumper, throwing it over the arm rest, leaving her in a black sleeveless top—too revealing for my liking.
Flushing, I pass her the bunny stuffed toy on my chest. She holds it close to her front, chuckling. I turn my head to squint at her.
Bashfully, I take another stuffed toy from the myriad of stuffies behind me, holding it close once again.
“Aren’t you cold?” I ask, even if I am starting to feel kind of hot. I realize that it was a dumb question when she started huffing. Despite the pitter-patter of the rain on my windows, I feel myself going hotter by the second.
She shakes her head, resting her back against the arm rest as she pulls her legs up on the couch, resting her calves on my thighs. I unconsciously start caressing the front of her legs, eliciting a small hum from her. “No, I feel kind of hot actually. Is your air-conditioning on?”
“No.” I answer, eyes trained towards her, never leaving her figure. “Should I turn it on?”
My words stay unanswered as Becky just stares at me, blinking slowly but surely. She has an easy smile on her lips as she pushes the stuffed toy aside, placing it back on its original place on my couch. She removes her legs from my thighs, eliciting a small whine from me at the lost of contact.
“No need.” she turns her body around, putting her head over my thighs; this is much better than her legs. “I can always just remove another article of clothing if I feel too hot, right?” she says unabashedly, casual and acting like she doesn’t know she just switched something in me. She rolls over, now facing my exposed stomach. She blows, hot air hitting my navel. I shiver. Maybe wearing a crop-top was such a bad idea. Or maybe it isn’t.
She laughs, doing it once again. I look down at her and click my tongue against my cheek, “Beck.” I warn.
She hums, wrapping an arm around my waist as she scoots even closer. I can feel her breath against my skin even more, and I gasp a little.
“Beck.”
“Yes, P’Freen?” she asks, voice laced with something strange but not unfamiliar to my ear. Her voices is muffled as she starts drawing circles on my back.
“Don’t do this.”
“We’re alone.” she reminds. She latches her mouth on my exposed skin, making me jolt. She sucks, pulling my upper body closer to her head as she presses on my back.
“Beck,” I say in between gasps, “What are you doing?”
She just hums, continuing her ministrations. I feel her grin against my skin, and I roll my eyes at her smugness.
She nips on my skin one last time before sitting up, lips slick with spit as she faces me face-to-face.
“Can I kiss you?”
“I—“
Before I could even finish my sentence, she puts a stray hair strand behind my ear. “Becky.” I call out once again.
My eyes flicker between her eyes and her lips, which she seems to notice as a small grin appears on her lips. “Can I?”
Clearly out of my rational thoughts, I nod.
Without missing a beat, she latches her lips onto mine. I take a deep breath, shuddering at the touch. Her lips are really soft, as usual, kissable and perfect against mine. After one last lick on my bottom lip, she removes her lips, and before I could even complain, she starts nipping on my jaw. I automatically lift my head up to give more access; I feel her smile. She then switches to my neck, her other hand slightly pulling on my hair as the other is pushing me to lay on the couch.
“B-Beck…” I groan as she finds my pulse point, eliciting a whimper out of me. “God.” I exclaim, pulling her closer to me if that’s even possible.
“I won’t leave a mark,” she pecks the spot, “Don’t worry.”
I frantically nod, pulling her head off my neck to try and kiss her again. As I see her eyes, I take a deep breath; it’s half-lidded, pupils dilated. “Becky.” I comb my hand through her hair. She hums, a giddy smile on her lips. I comfortably lay down underneath her, her body propped up on her hands. “Yes?” I caress her cheek, pulling her closer to me once again when I heard the doorbell ring.
With a groan, she gets off of me and grabs her jumper, covering herself with it. She doesn’t put it on, rather, places it on front of her body. Reluctantly, I get off the couch. I give her an apologizing look, and she just smiles, albeit a little annoyed.
“Cockblocker.” she huffs. I laugh, tilting my body down to press a kiss on the top of her head.
“I ordered food.” with that, her eyes widen in excitement as she goes on her feet. “Oh!” she exclaims, “I’ll get it. Sit down and wait like a princess.” she hastily puts her jumper back on and waddles to the door without even hearing my protests. I sit down.
Soon, she comes back with two paper bags. She places it on the coffee table and pulls the food out. I see her eyes twinkle at the sight of milktea, and I chuckle. She doesn’t let me do anything: she opens the packages of the food with the covers taped, opens the utensils packet for me, punctures the milktea with the straw provided, and sets them down in front of me. I look at her in admiration, thankful for everything she had done. Without even me asking, she just does it because she wants to.
As she sits back down next to me, the Pad-Thai on her lap, chopsticks on hand, she feels my gaze on her as she looks at me with a curious look. “What is it, phi?” she asks, a tilt on her head. My smile grows wider—she’s really adorable—as I mutter a small “thank you.”
She smiles then, “No problem,” she picks up a bunch of noodles and eats, “I’ll do anything for you in a heartbeat.” she says, nonchalant and casual. She then takes a sip of her milktea, “Because I love you.”
My breath wavers as I eat as well, letting her words loom inside of me, making my insides do flips. I feel a fluttering feeling settle on my stomach as her words linger. No matter how many times she has professed her love for me, it doesn’t make it any less impactful, not when all she does everyday is show affection and care for me—it’s all I could ever ask for: that someone treats me with utmost love, care, and adoration, that they make me feel like I’m enough and I deserve to be loved, without making me feel like I’m demanding anything from them.
Without even saying anything, she knows what I want and need. She knows when I’m tired and she’ll give me a small kiss and a reassuring hug, tight and long as I melt in her touch. She knows when I’m happy and she’ll also give me a kiss and a proud hug, lingering as we stay in that position until the need to pull away is evident. Sometimes, I feel like she knows me better than I know myself.
I knew from the moment my eyes fell on her, this beautiful girl would make me feel alive.
Because she makes me feel like this world cannot do any harm on me.
And that everything will stay perfect the way it is.
“I love you too.” she lifts her head to smile at me, “So much.”