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Adrian walked through your apartment, rifling through your things. Technically, he hadn’t broken in. All he did was unlock the door with the key you kept under the plant outside your apartment, and since you told him the key was there, it was basically an invitation to come in. He was being as polite as possible. He’d even taken his shoes off at the front door, knowing you always did the same to avoid tracking dirt around.
Your apartment was the mirror image of his, which was to be expected, because he was across the hall from you, your door only four feet away from his. Despite the layouts being the same, he preferred your place to his. The complex was built in the 1940s, and the apartments inside reflected it. The front door opened up into a small living room, with two windows looking out at the street, one of which had a radiator under it that was clearly broken judging by how cold it was. A brown leather three seater couch fit between the two windows, and faced an old brick fireplace that jutted out of the wall. A vintage record player sat on top of it, along with a bunch of your clutter, including books, candles, plants, and chotskies. The whole room was cluttered with stuff, like a painting easel with a half finished work that had been untouched for weeks, an untuned guitar, cat toys, and a wicker basket filled with blankets.
A motif rug covered the worn out dark floorboards, which transitioned into black and white tiles to the left of the room where a doorway with no door opened up into the small kitchen. It had white cabinets and counters, with one window letting light in, and a small table with two chairs under the window. The fridge was full of leftover food you’d cooked, including pasta fagioli, which Adrian opened the container of and smelled. He drank some of the broth, enjoying the taste of your cooking. He would’ve taken a bowl full, but he didn’t want to take it away from you if you were planning on finishing it later. He put the soup back in the fridge. A collection of herbs you were growing sat on the small table. Your cat was curled up on the cushion of the wooden chair, basking in the sunlight. She perked up when Adrian came up to her. She was pretty used to him by then, and allowed him to pet her. The cat was a domestic longhair with a tortoiseshell coat. Adrian didn’t actually know her name, but he liked to call her ‘Fluffy’ whenever he saw her because of how fluffy she was.
To the right of the living room was the bathroom, and your bedroom next to that. The bathroom was relatively small, with no windows and ugly tiling. You’d removed the cupboard door under the sink to put in a litter box, which Adrian cleaned before going through your medicine cabinets. He washed his hands first, and noticed the sink had a leaky faucet. He’d have to fix that later. He counted the pills in your medication and vitamin bottles to make sure you’d been taking them. You’d skipped a day with one of your vitamins, since there should’ve been only eighteen pills left since the last time he counted, but there were nineteen instead.
Your bedroom was Adrian’s favorite room in the apartment. It had your closet full of clothes that he liked to smell. Sometimes he’d try on your oversized sweaters just to feel what you felt. The soft knit wool was warm and comfortable on his skin, especially in your cold apartment. He changed back into his own shirt and searched through your laundry hamper, pulling out a pair of used underwear. They had a period stain on the crotch. He brought it up to his nose and breathed in the smell, determining that the stain was fresh. He’d be extra nice to you when running into you in the hallway, and probably stop by with something chocolatey for you with some excuse as to why he was giving it to you.
He pocketed your panties and laid down on your bed. You slept on the right side, closer to the window, so he laid down on the left side. Fluffy’s fur was on the olive green pillow, the pillowcase matching the comforter on the bed. The room smelled like the cedar mahogany candle on your bedside table. Adrian bought that same candle for his own room so it would smell like yours. And then he bought body wash in the same scent so you’d like the way he smelled.
He left your bedroom and Fluffy meowed at him, then rolled onto her back with her belly up. He gave her belly a rub and she purred. She bunny kicked his hand and bit his thumb playfully, then abruptly ran away. She looked back at him and meowed. He followed her to a box next to the fireplace. She nudged the box and he opened it for her, finding a container of catnip and a couple bags of cat treats.
“Don’t tell your mom,” he said, taking a treat out of one of the bags and holding it in the palm of his hand. Fluffy sniffed his hand until she found the treat, then ate it greedily. She licked the residue off his fingers and let him pet her for another minute before retiring to the couch. Adrian put the treat bag back exactly where he found it, then went to the bookshelf. The box of records on it had a few new additions, including albums of Bobby Darin, Benny Goodman and Nat King Cole Trio. He took a picture of each album so he could buy them on CD and listen to them in his car. Jazz wasn’t Adrian’s personal favorite, but he’d listen to anything you liked.
He still had two hours before you’d be home from work, which gave him enough time to work on the radiator. It was the exact same as the one in his apartment, and he knew that the problem was trapped air. It always was, especially at the beginning of all. Luckily, it was a simple fix. Adrian ran across the hall to grab a rag and a screwdriver. He left your underwear in his apartment for safekeeping before going back to yours.
He sat down next to the radiator and turned it off. You had it on, despite the lack of heat coming out of it. He unscrewed the bleed screw until he heard a hissing noise coming from it. The hissing died down and water started to leak out of it. He screwed the bleed screw back in and wiped up the water, just as the lock of your apartment turned. He had no time to react before the door opened. He jumped up as you appeared in the doorway.
“Oh my God!” you shouted, jumping back and dropping your keys. You held your hand to your chest and started laughing. “Adrian, you scared the hell out of me! What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”
You picked up your keys. As you bent over, Adrian got a clear look down your cream colored sweater, which had a v neck that showed off your chest. His face heated up and he stammered while thinking of an answer to your question while being distracted by your cleavage.
“The um, the radiator in my apartment wasn’t working and, um, Jim said that a lot of people were having that problem, so I thought I’d fix it for you. I used the spare key to get in.”
“I told you where that key was in case of an emergency,” you reminded him as you came into your apartment. You took off your coat and hung it on the door, then slipped out of your boots into your slippers.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Don’t worry about it. It was really sweet of you actually,” you said, shutting and locking the door. “Can I make you dinner to thank you?”
Adrian’s heart skipped a beat. The two of you had never actually hung out together, unless he was counting the chats you’d have in the hallway or laundry room or while getting the mail, but he didn’t. This was different.
“That would be awesome, thanks,” he said.
You pet Fluffy on the head, then got down on your knees to kiss her head. She purred loudly as you started rubbing her belly.
“Who's my good boy?” you cooed in a baby voice. “You are!”
“He’s a boy?” Adrian asked.
“His name is Clarence,” you said.
“Like the angel?”
“No, I just like the name,” you told him. You gave Clarence another kiss on his fluffy head and Adrian felt a twinge of jealousy. It was odd to be jealous of a cat. “Do you like pelmeni? I made some the other day and saved them in the freezer. I was going to make them tonight, but if you’d like someone else I’m more than happy to make whatever you want.”
“Pelmeni sounds great,” Adrian said. He had no idea what pelmeni was, but he would’ve eaten a dirty shoe if you prepared it for him.
“Great!” you said. “Um, I don’t have a TV because I usually just watch stuff on my laptop, which I can grab for you if you want to watch something while I cook. Or you can snoop around if you want, I don’t mind.” You laughed sweetly and your face flushed. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting company, so I’m a bit unprepared. I don’t have people over very often.”
“I can get out of your hair if you want,” he offered, even though he wanted to stay.
“No, stay!” you said rather quickly. “Unless you wanted to leave?”
“No, I don’t,” he said. You smiled deeply. “I can help you cook, if you want.”
“I just have to boil water and put the pelmeni in it, but you can sit with me if you want.”
“That sounds great,” he said.
“Do you mind if I put on music?” you asked.
“It’s your place,” he said. “You can do whatever you want.”
You walked over to your records and flicked through them. “Do you have any requests? It’s mostly jazz in here, but there’s some other stuff too.”
“Do you have any Louis Armstrong?” he asked. You did. He knew that. You had an album of his greatest hits. When you got it a few months ago, it was in mint condition. Over time, the packaging the record was in got worn, like you used it more than the others. Your smile deeped as you grabbed the record and held it up.
“Ta-da!” you said. You put the record on and La Vie En Rose played out. Adrian knew the whole album by heart, since it was one of your favorites. You turned to volume to a level that was easy to talk over, but the music could still be clearly made out. “I should probably start cooking.”
He followed you into the kitchen, where you grabbed a pot from one of the cabinets. You filled it up with water while he sat down on the seat Clarence was in when he arrived at your apartment. The spot was warm from the sun hitting it. The view was decent. It showed the street outside and the buildings across from it, but the nice part was the woods in the distance, where the sun was illuminating the trees. Adrian ignored the view and watched you.
You hummed along to the tune as you took a bag of what looked like dumplings out of the freezer. You put the pot on the stove, turned it on, and salted the water. He picked at a basil leaf on one of your herb plants. He pulled it off and took a bite. It was a hundred times better than regular basil, because you grew it.
“Don’t give Clarence any ideas,” you chided Adrian. “I had to train him not to eat my herbs.”
“He seems like a very well behaved cat,” he said.
“He’s the best,” you said fondly. “Do you have any pets?”
“No,” he said. “I’ve always wanted one, though, but my brother said I’d be a terrible pet owner.”
Clarence came running into the room. He rubbed up against Adrian’s legs, demanding his attention. You laughed. “I think Clarence would disagree.”
“Hey Fluffy,” Adrian said out of habit.
“What kind of pet would you want?” you asked as you opened the fridge and pulled out lettuce, cucumbers, carrots, and a few other vegetables. You placed the washable ones in a strainer and found the peeler for the carrots.
“An Eagle,” he said. He got up from his seat and went over to you while Clarence darted out of the room to zoom around the living room. Adrian took the peeler out of your hands. “I’ve got the carrots.”
“Thank you,” you said. “But wash your hands first.”
“Right,” he said, and went to wash his hands before he peeled and chopped carrots.
You started washing the vegetables in the sink, glancing over at Adrian occasionally. He was pretty good at cooking, at least he thought so. He was good at cutting, at least. Usually, not talking was unnerving to him, but with you it felt natural to simply be together without speaking. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board, water running, and Dream A Little Dream of Me took over the room.
The water started to boil and you poured in the pelmeni. You had to stand next to Adrian to do so. Your arm brushed against his, sending goosebumps over his body. The steam of the water filled the air and fogged his glasses.
“Here, let me,” you said as you took them off his face, your fingers ever so lightly touching his skin. You wiped the fog off his glasses with your shirt, then put them back on him.
“Thanks,” he said.
“No problem.”
You brought the clean vegetables over to Adrian. He started chopping the cucumbers while you stirred the pot a few times. You set a timer on the stove and rested the wooden spoon on the top of the pot.
“Can I steal one?” you asked.
“Steal one what?”
“A cucumber.”
“It’s not stealing. You bought it,” he said.
“So you don’t mind if I take one?” you asked, sneaking your hand to the cutting board as he continued chopping the cucumber. He rested the knife on the board.
“You shouldn’t put your fingers near sharp objects,” Adrian warned you. “You don’t want anything to happen to your phalanges, trust me .”
“Phalanges?” you asked with a giggle. You picked up a cucumber and tossed it in your mouth, which Adrian thought was adorable. He thought everything you did was adorable.
“Fingers and toes,” he said, wiggling his fingers and toes, not that you could see his toes with his socks on.
“Did something happen to one of your phalanges?” you asked.
“Yes,” he said, before he remembered he couldn’t actually tell you what happened to his toe. “No! I mean no. Nothing happened to any of my phalanges.”
You cocked your head to the side. “Alright.”
You walked away from him, and for a moment he was afraid he’d fucked up and you didn’t want to be around him anymore, but then you dragged a chair over to the counters. You climbed up on it to open one of the cabinets and pulled out a large wooden bowl. The seat wobbled and Adrian almost dashed over to you, but you grabbed onto the fridge to steady yourself before hopping down.
After placing the bowl next to him, you went back to stirring the pot.
“That’s a nice bowl,” Adrian said.
“It’s for the salad,” you said. “Would you like anything else with dinner? We could have wine, unless you have to drive home.”
“I live across the hall,” Adrian said, confused as to how you forgot that.
“I know. I was making a joke,” you told him.
“Oh. It was very funny!” He forced out a laugh and you bit your lower lip. He couldn’t tell what that gesture meant, so he stopped laughing, in case you thought he was being weird. “Wine would be great.”
“I’ll grab the glasses,” you said, going back to the chair. Adrian kept a close eye on you as you climbed onto the precarious chair again. It didn’t wobble the second time around, and you got the glasses with no issues. You took an open bottle of red wine out of the fridge and poured it into them. The timer on the oven beeped and you strained the pelmeni, then got two plates, requiring you to stand on the chair again.
“You should get a step stool so you don’t fall,” Adrian said. “That chair isn’t safe.”
“I’ve been alright so far,” you said.
“You’ve been lucky so far.”
“If I fall, I’ll send Clarence to get me help,” you said. Adrian realized you were just as bad as Chris when it came to overestimating your pet’s abilities.
“You’re just like my best friend,” he blurted out. He had a hard time not saying exactly what he was thinking.
“I am?”
“He has a pet that he overestimates too.”
“Is his pet an eagle?” you asked as you started assembling the salad with everything he cut up.
Adrian’s face fell. How could you have guessed that?
“I’m making another joke,” you said. “Earlier you said that you want a pet eagle, so I thought it would be funny to ask if your best friend has an eagle, when obviously he doesn’t because that’s illegal. It wasn’t funny, though. I’ll stop making jokes.”
“Having a pet eagle isn’t illegal if you're an American hero. You can get a special license. My best friend told me that,” he said.
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” you said. “Does he really have a pet eagle?”
“Yes!” Adrian said proudly.
“What’s the eagle’s name?”
“Eag-” he almost said Eagly, but if you knew anything about Peacemaker you’d know that he had an eagle named Eagly, and he couldn’t exactly reveal that his best friend was the Christopher Smith. “Eaglebert.”
“Eaglebert?” you asked with a smile. “That’s a wonderful name. Do you call him Bert for short?”
“We do,” Adrian lied, then tried to get off of the topic of eagles. “Do you call Clarence anything other than his name?”
“Sometimes I call him Mr. Constipated because he doesn’t use the bathroom as much as most cats,” you said. “Sorry, is that an overshare?”
Clarence did use the bathroom as much as most cats, but Adrian often cleaned the box for you. He didn’t even think about how that would affect your perception of your cat’s bowel movements.
“Not at all,” Adrian said.
You finished making the salad and brought it to the kitchen table. You took the two plates of pelmeni and put them there as well, and Adrian grabbed the two glasses of wine. You grabbed a mason jar of homemade dressing from the fridge, then dragged the chair over to sit across from him.
“Sorry that we’re having dinner so early,” you said as you put salad on your plate. “Usually I eat right when I get home after work, but I got home earlier than usual today.”
“I don’t mind an early dinner,” he said. “Why’d you get out early?”
“I had the day off, actually,” you told him. You handed him the tongs for the salad. Adrian wanted to take your hand and hold it, but he took the tongs without touching you. “One of my coworkers and I switched shifts so now I have to work a double tomorrow, but at least I had today to relax.”
“Did you do anything fun?” he asked.
“I went out for brunch with a friend, then spent the day with him,” you said. Adrian knew all about your friends. He hadn’t met them officially, but he’d spent time following them around and going through their homes to determine if they were good for you. He determined that you had excellent taste in friends, since none of them had a criminal record and they seemed like decent people. “What did you do today, Adrian?”
“I worked the lunch shift today,” he said, which was true. He left out the part about going through your stuff after getting home and changing. “And I fixed your radiator.”
“Thanks again for that,” you said.
“It was no problem. Plus, I got a great meal out of it!” He took a bite for the first time, and he failed to hold back a moan. “Fuck, this is incredible.”
Your cheeks flushed again. “Thanks.”
“You should be a chef,” Adrian said. “I’d eat at your restaurant all the time. Actually, I’d quit my job and be a busboy at your restaurant just so I could get a discount.”
“If you want, I could cook for you more often,” you offered. “I always make too much food anyways. I might as well share.”
“I’d love that!” Adrian said, excited to eat more of your cooking and spend more time with you. “I bet you make a bomb beef stew. It’s my favorite comfort food.”
“I can make beef stew on Saturday, if you want to come over for dinner again.”
His heart nearly jumped out of his chest with how happy he was that you were inviting him over again. “That would be awesome! I can fix your bathroom faucet while I’m over.”
“How did you know it needs fixing?” you asked. You took a sip of wine and looked at him over the glass.
“Um… I had to pee,” he said. “Before I fixed the radiator.”
“Sorry you had to pee in such a messy bathroom,” you said. “I would’ve tidied up if I knew you were coming over.”
“Mine’s way messier.” His had blood stains permanently ruining the tile work, but it was ugly anyways so he didn’t care. He’d tried everything to get the blood out, but he ended up getting blood everywhere again anyway, so it became null and void.
“You don’t actually have to fix my faucet, you know,” you said. “It’s a really nice offer, but I don’t want to put you out.”
“I don’t mind at all. We both know Jim isn’t going to get around to it.”
You laughed. “He’s a pretty shit landlord.”
“He really is,” Adrian agreed.
“To be honest, I can’t stand him.”
“Why?” he asked, wondering if Jim had wronged you and if Vigilante needed to pay him a visit.
“He’s such a misogynist! Whenever he sees me, he tells me I need to smile more,” you said with a scowl. Adrian did really like your smile, and wanted to see it as often as possible, but judging by your tone he should never ask you to smile. “The other day, he said it again and I asked him to stop and he said I was ‘being too emotional’!” You sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to rant. I just really hate Jim.”
Vigilante was definitely paying Jim a visit. “He has a heart condition. Maybe he’ll have a heart attack.”
You laughed, your pretty smile returning to your face. “Let’s hope so. Maybe the next landlord will actually be competent, and the tenants won’t have to fix each other's radiators. Did you fix anyone else’s or just mine?”
“Just yours,” he said.
“Why?”
Adrian almost blurted out Because I’m in love with you, but realized that would probably weird you out. “I… um…” He didn’t have an answer, and making quick excuses wasn’t his strong suit, so he went with part of the truth. “I know you’re really bad at handiwork.”
You bursted out laughing harder than you had all afternoon. You leaned forward with your elbows on the table and put your face in your hands. Adrian’s face went pale as yours went into a deep shade of red and your eyes watered.
“Please don’t cry!” he said. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“I’m not crying, I’m laughing,” you said. “You’re right, I’m terrible at handiwork. I just didn’t realize I was so bad that other people noticed.”
Clarence ran back into the room before Adrian could accidentally blurt out that he noticed everything about you. He went straight to you this time and hopped on your lap. His little black nose sniffed around your plate, trying to steal one of your pelmeni. You pushed your plate away from him and he brought his paw up to try and take one anyway.
“You can’t eat that!” you scolded him. “Garlic is bad for cats. You know this.”
Clarence meowed indignantly at you and you put him on the floor. He went over to Adrian and pawed at his leg, meowing even more.
“He’s usually so shy around strangers,” you said. “But he really likes you.”
Clarence didn’t like Adrian the first time he came over. He hid under the bed, and when Adrian tried to pet him, he got scratched. But over time, Clarence grew accustomed to him, and once he learned that he could get treats out of Adrian, they became buddies.
“Sorry Fluffy, I can’t give you any treats,” he said, patting his head. “Your mom said no.”
He jumped up onto Adrian’s lap and curled up into a ball.
“Be careful,” you warned. “He’s a sneaky little bastard. He’ll fool you into thinking he’s sleeping, and then he’ll steal your food when your guard is down. I told him that if he keeps being a thief, Vigilante will come and stop him, but Clarence clearly has a death wish.”
“Vigilante would never kill an animal!” Adrian said, offended by even the notion that he was capable of such a feat. “Unless it was an alien gorilla, in which case, he probably would kill it with a chainsaw unless his friend stole his idea and did it first.”
“That’s oddly specific,” you said. “Are you a big Vigilante fan?”
“The biggest,” Adrian said. “Peacemaker’s still cooler, though, but only by, like, one percent. Do you like Vigilante?”
He really, really wanted you to say yes.
“He’s the coolest!” you said. Adrian had to hold back a celebratory dance. “Personally, I think he’s cooler than Peacemaker, but they’re both pretty great. So much better than Batman.”
“So much better!”
“Like, what kind of pussy ass hero doesn’t kill bad guys? If I was a superhero, I’d make sure that when I stopped a criminal, I stopped them for good.”
Adrian fell in love with you all over again. He was practically vibrating in his chair, but that might’ve just been Clarence’s purring.
“Does that make me sound like a crazy person?” you asked.
“Not at all! I totally agree,” Adrian said.
Clarence took the opportunity to try and steal Adrian’s last pelmeni. He stopped him by gently grabbing his outstretched paw. You giggled.
“I told you he’d try that.”
Adrian popped the pelmeni in his mouth and ate it in a taunting way. Clarence was unamused, but you seemed to enjoy it. You laughed harder, which he thought was a beautiful sound. Clarence sniffed Adrian’s face, then tried to get the pelmeni out of his mouth. Adrian leaned back, went too far, and tipped the chair over. Clarence leaped away from him and scuttled out of the room and you darted out of your chair to Adrian’s side.
“Are you okay?” you asked. You sat beside him as he laid on the floor, rubbing his sore head.
“Trust me, I’ve had worse,” he said. You put your hand on his back and helped him sit up, which he thought was unnecessary, but he liked being touched by you so he didn’t mention it. Your hand lingered on him and you placed the other one on his thigh.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Can I get you anything? Did you hit your head? Do you have a concussion? Quick, what’s the first amendment?”
“ Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”
You gawked at Adrian. “Do you have all the amendments memorized word for word?”
“Yeah, don’t you?” he asked. He got to his feet and picked up the chair. One of the wooden legs had broken in the fall.
“No, I don’t.”
“I can fix that, too,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it,” you said. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Adrian had half a mind to think you were trying to make him fall in love with you. You’d cooked for him, liked Vigilante, cared about his safety, and you didn’t laugh at him for falling out of his chair and making a fool of himself. He was also very worried, because your chairs were unstable, and you liked to climb on them.
“I’m glad you’re okay, too. What if you were the one that fell, and you cracked your head on the floor, and you died? I told you your chairs were unstable. I’m getting you a step stool so you can reach your cabinets safely.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No!” he said quickly. He hadn’t even realized he sounded angry. “I’m worried.”
“I promise, I’ll stop climbing on my chairs,” you said.
“Good. I’ll hold you to that promise.”
“And I’ll make sure I have a new chair by Saturday for our dinner date.”
“Date?” Adrian asked.
“Not a date date! Like, a date as in a specific thing. A date, in the non-romantic sense,” you said very quickly. He was more than a little disappointed that you weren’t asking him on an actual date.
“Oh. Yeah, totally, not a date,” he said.
“I’ll see you Saturday, then!” you said, and he wasn’t sure if that was you telling him to leave or not, so he played it safe and assumed you were.
“I should get going,” he said, even though he wanted to stay forever.
“Oh, okay. I’ll walk you out.”
The two of you walked into the living room. Adrian gave Clarence a quick pet goodbye, then wasn’t sure if he should hug you or shake your hand or just leave. People often ended the conversation by walking away from him, so he didn’t know how to actually say goodbye.
“I had fun today,” you told him. “Thanks for coming over.”
“Thanks for dinner,” he said. “You’re a great cook.”
“Hopefully you’ll like my beef stew, too,” you said.
“Of course I will,” he said. He decided he should definitely give you a hug before leaving. He put his hands on your upper arms and brought your body closer to his, barely touching your chest with his. He patted one of your arms, then broke away.
“Was that a hug?” you asked.
“Obviously.”
“Not obviously,” you said. “That wasn’t even close to a proper hug.”
“How do you hug people, then?” he asked. It had been a long time since he’d gotten a hug that wasn’t a ‘bro hug’, so he was a little rusty.
“Can I show you?” you asked.
“You totally can.”
You wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled him close to you. “Put your chin on my head and put your arms around me.”
Adrian wrapped his arms around you and put his head on yours like you said. You squeezed him and he squeezed you back. It was a much better hug than the one he tried to give you. You fit perfectly in his arms, and as you stood there, he felt more at ease. He held you tighter, gripping onto your sweater. You leaned up on your tip toes and he dipped his head into the crook of your neck.
“When was the last time someone hugged you?” you asked.
“Like this?” he asked. “I can’t even remember.”
He couldn’t understand why hugging you made him start to feel so sad and tired, but also happy and relaxed at the same time.
“If you ever need another hug, come over.”
“Do you mean that?” he asked.
“I do.”
Adrian reluctantly pulled away. The weird urge to cry was starting to sneak up on him, but he wasn’t going to do that in front of you. He didn’t even do that in front of himself.
“I’ll see you Saturday,” he said, then mentally added unless I need another hug in his head.
“Bye Adrian,” you said, opening the door for him.
“Bye you two!” he said, waving to you and to Clarence, and went across the hall to his own apartment.
- -
Vigilante had no qualms with killing Jim. He really was a shitty landlord. As far as he could tell, Jim hadn’t committed any crimes, but he upset you, and Adrian couldn’t stand for that. Usually, he’d be direct with his approach to killing someone, but when it was someone he knew personally, he had to be a lot more cautious. Instead of killing him with a knife or sword or bullet, Vigilante snuck into Jim’s apartment when he knew he wasn’t home. He went straight for the medicine cabinet, where his heart medication was. Adrian dumped the pills into the toilet and flushed them, then filled the prescription bottle with caffeine pills. The pills looked identical, and hopefully tasted identical too. He figured Jim would have a heart attack within the week.
He was right.
It was mid day on Friday when an aggressive knock sounded on his front door. He was busy getting ready for work when he heard it. Half dressed with just a pair of jeans on, he went to open the door.
“Adrian, holy shit! Did you hear what- where’s your shirt?”
You were standing in the doorway, looking rather excited and jumpy. Your eyes started wandering his body as you spoke. They widened as you stared at the scars across his chest. You reached out and touched a particularly nasty one. He’d been stabbed in the stomach, right above his belly button, when he tried to investigate a shipment of drugs on his own. He managed to survive, and kill everyone in sight, but it left him with an ugly scar.
“What happened?” you asked very softly. Your fingers traced the scar, sending electric shivers through his body.
“I was getting dressed when you came by,” he said, answering your first question. He didn’t have a good excuse for the stab wound in his stomach. “I can put a shirt on if you’re uncomfortable.”
“I don’t care that you're shirtless. I care that you look like you’ve been through a wood chipper!”
“If I went through a wood chipper I’d be dead,” he said.
“Adrian, what happened to you?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
You pulled your hand away from his stomach and nodded. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. Sorry. I’m- yeah, sorry.”
“It’s cool. Did you come over for a reason?” he asked.
“Jim’s dead,” you said. “I just heard about it, and I thought I’d let you know.”
Yes! Adrian’s plan to induce a heart attack worked! That meant you’d never have to deal with Jim’s misogynistic bullshit again. “Oh, shit, really?”
“Yeah, he died of a heart attack this morning,” you told him. “Crazy coincidence, right? I mean, we were talking about this only a few days ago, and now he’s actually dead. Do you think we manifested his death?”
“Manifested?”
“Yeah, manifested. It’s when you want something really badly and you think about it and hoping for it and the universe makes it happen,” you said. “It happens to me all the time.”
“Do you have any examples?”
“Do I ever!” you said. “Can I come in? I’ll tell you about all the crazy things that happen around me.”
“Of course you can come in!” he said, stepping aside to let you in. His apartment was much less busy than yours. His furniture was dark and easy to clean since he often came home covered in blood. He didn’t bother with decorating it with anything more than the essentials.
“How long have you been living here?” you asked. “It looks like you just moved in, but you’ve been my neighbor for the whole seven months I’ve been here.”
“I’ve been here for two years,” he said. “I don’t have a lot of stuff.”
You sat down on the dark gray couch in the living room. “Marie Kondo would be proud of how tidy it is here.”
“Who?” he asked. He knew all of your friends' names, but he didn’t know of any Marie Kondo’s.
“Some famous lady,” you said. “Okay, so, the manifesting thing-”
“Wait one second,” Adrian said. He wanted to give you his full attention, but was half naked and needed to get dressed for work, which started soon. He didn’t mind being late if it meant talking to you, though. He went into his room and grabbed his clothes, then brought them into the living room and set them on the couch next to you. “Okay, you can start.”
He got dressed while you talked and he noticed how you watched him put his clothes on. “It’s so crazy. A few weeks ago, I was at this bar with some of my friends, and this guy was a total asshole to me. He grabbed my ass like a total fucking perv, and I thought ‘I hope this guys falls of a cliff’, which might be kind of harsh, but he was a dick. The next day I’m on my way to work and I have the radio on, and the news starts talking about recent murder, so I looked it up, and it was the guy who grabbed me! He didn’t fall off a cliff, but he did get stabbed, which is arguably cooler.”
Adrian remembered that day fondly. Not the part where you got grabbed. That part was fucking awful. He had followed you to a bar and kept an eye on you to keep you safe while you were drunk. The fond part was how he not only stabbed the man who assaulted you, but he cut the nerves out of the hand he grabbed you with. It was very satisfying.
“That’s a wild coincidence,” Adrian said.
“It’s not a coincidence, though. It’s manifestation. I think…” You looked around the room that was empty except for the two of you and leaned towards him. You lowered your voice to a whisper. “I think that someone’s making things happen for me.”
He felt his heart pounding in his chest as terror engulfed him. He’d rather fight Judomaster again than have you find out his secret and hate him for it.
“Maybe it really is a coincidence,” he tried to convince you. You pouted and he had the urge to kiss you, and urge he was all too familiar with.
“There’s so many stories like that, though. Anytime someone does something bad to me, they disappear,” you said. “And sometimes I get this feeling that I’m being watched. I realize how crazy that sounds, but either manifesting is real, or someone's stalking me. I chose to believe the first.”
“Would it be bad if someone was stalking you?”
You hummed and looked up at the ceiling. “Well, okay, please don’t judge me for this.”
“Never.”
“I don’t mind it,” you said. “I feel like I have a guardian angel or something.”
Adrian felt relief wash over him like a flood. He could admit to you that he was that stalker, but then you might think he was just trying to take credit, and since he didn’t have any proof that he was stalking you, he couldn’t tell you.
“That’s awesome!”
“It really is!” you agreed. “Thanks for not thinking I’m crazy. I told some of my friends, and they think I’m a bit psycho for enjoying my silent stalker. If they even exist, that is. It’s just a theory right now. But who knows! Maybe Jim’s heart attack wasn’t natural.”
Adrian laughed a little too hard. “Ha! Maybe! That would be crazy.”
His phone started buzzing as his alarm telling him to leave for work went off.
“Do you need to get that?” you asked.
“Nah, that’s just an alarm, not a call,” he said.
“Oh, shit, am I keeping you from something?” You looked him over. “You have to go to work, don’t you? I totally just barged in on you, sorry.”
“It’s alright! I like hanging out with you,” he admitted. “But I do have work.”
“I’ll get out of your hair,” you said, getting up off his couch. “We’re still on for dinner tomorrow, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Adrian said.
- -
Your apartment smelled incredible. The beef stew was ready in a dutch oven on the stove, and fresh baked biscuits were resting next to it. The smell was incredible, but not as incredible as you. You looked completely irresistible. Your hair was mostly down, with half a quarter of it clipped back behind your head, and a few strands loose to frame your face. You had on a short, casual dress that showed off your chest and thighs, in a maroon red that looked gorgeous on you. He felt underdressed in his zip up and jeans for your not-a-date.
It definitely felt like a date, though. It was just after sunset, and your kitchen had a warm glow from both the wall sconces and the candle on the dining table. You’d moved the herbs over to the counter. The table was set with woven placemats and wine glasses. Ella Fitzgerald’s music filled the air. The whole apartment was a lot tidier than the last time he was there with you. He’d gone back without you there, and had seen how you’d slowly tidied up your apartment for his visit.
The way you talked about your day and asked him about his made him feel so at home with you. It was easy to imagine that this was his norm, that he was married to you and came home to have dinner with you every night. He would’ve loved that. He could easily get used to this life with you.
But you weren’t really his wife, and this wasn’t really a date, and you were just two neighbors having dinner together.
“Enough about work,” you said, cutting off your own story about the cafe running out of pumpkin syrup and the outrage customers had. “I don’t know anything about your hobbies. What do you do for fun?”
He wanted to tell you about his moonlighting as Vigilante, but he couldn’t, so he settled on telling you other things about his interests. “I play dnd sometimes with my friends John, Leota and Keeya. I also work out a lot. I hang out with my best friend and his eagle. I watch TV. I work - does work count as a hobby?”
“No, it doesn’t,” you said.
“Oh, well, that makes sense. It’s not very fun.”
“The other things you said sound fun.”
“They are!” Adrian said. “Especially working out. I used to work out with just my BFF, but he moved away for a while so I did it on my own, and then he came back and we made a bunch of friends and now we all work out together.”
He wasn’t talking about going to the gym. Technically killing people was a work out, so he wasn’t lying to you.
“You must have some very athletic friends.”
“Not really,” he said. “Some of them are, some aren’t.”
“You definitely are,” you said. “Your muscles are huge. I didn’t even realize you were ripped until yesterday.”
He beamed proudly. “Do you like them?”
You started coughing and almost spit out the bite of stew you took. You held your elbow in front of your mouth.
“Are you alright?”
You help a thumbs up and continued coughing.
“Here, let me help,” he said. He figured the wine you were drinking wasn’t going to help with your coughing fit, so he found the regular drinking glasses from your cupboard and filled one. He brought it back to you and helped you drink from it. “There you go.”
You swallowed and looked up at him with flushed cheeks. He put the glass down on the table.
“How’d you know where the cups were?” you asked.
He’d been in your apartment a million times. He knew where everything was. “I, uh, guessed.”
“It was a really good guess,” you said. “The cups could have been in any cupboard, but you went to the right one right away. That’s a pretty crazy coincidence.”
Adrian sat back down and scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“And it’s also a crazy coincidence that you’re the only person I complained to about Jim, and less than a week later, he’s dead.”
“Coincidences happen all the time.”
“Yesterday I was talking to Mrs. Hoffman down the hall, and I asked her if her radiator was working, since you said that Jim said a lot of people were having issues. She said hers was fine. Dan’s was also fine. And Amanda’s. And Mr. and Mrs. Wilson’s. No one I talked to had any issues with their radiators.”
“Really? That’s so weird, because he told me that a bunch of people were complaining. It must’ve been people you didn’t talk to.”
“Adrian?” you asked. You gulped and he saw something in your eyes he recognized as the look people had when he was about to kill them - you were afraid.
“Yes?”
Your voice was quiet. “What were you really doing in my apartment?”
“Fixing your radiator.”
“Adrian, have you been stalking me?”
“No!” he said very quickly. His voice cracked. “I… no, I-”
“How long?” Clearly, you didn’t believe his lie. He had no choice but to confess to you.
“Seven months,” he admitted.
“Why?”
Adrian took off his glasses and set them on the table. Maybe if your reaction was blurred, it would feel less real. “When I saw you for the first time, I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world. I wanted to get to know you, but I didn’t know how, so I started following you. I… I broke into your apartment while you were out and took a picture of your calendar so I always knew where you were. I followed you on dates, to bars, to work, everywhere. I come here sometimes when you’re out to go through your things. Sometimes I take things, but I always bring them back eventually. Usually after they lose the smell of you. I thought Clarence was a girl and I called him Fluffy. He likes me because I give him treats and belly rubs. Sometimes I fix things that are broken, like your radiator. I also fix your problems, like when I switched Jim’s heart medicine out for caffeine pills, or when I killed the guy who grabbed your butt at the bar, and so many others. Like, so many. I keep you safe and I try to make your life a little easier. I’m in love with you.”
Adrian’s shoulders started to shake during his admission. He started talking and he couldn’t stop. Now you knew everything, and you’d probably call the cops on him or run away screaming or be terrified of him forever.
You left your chair and walked over to him. Lightly, you took his arm and pulled. “Stand up.”
He did as you asked, expecting you to kick him out of your apartment. But you didn’t. You wrapped your arms around him again, hugging him just like the first time.
“Thank you,” you said. Adrian held you back tightly.
“You aren’t mad?”
“No, not at all. I couldn’t be happier actually.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” you said with a small laugh. “You’ve been taking care of me for months. You have no idea how much that means to me. Plus, ever since I moved in, I’ve had a giant crush on you. And now I know you love me and I…” You pulled back and looked at him with that same fearful expression. “I don’t think I’m there yet, but I want to fall in love with you, too.”
That was more than okay with him. You had feelings for him , and you wanted to be in love with him. He was fine that you weren’t there yet. He’d waited seven months already. He could wait a million more if it meant being with you.
But your expression seemed so off from your words.
“Why are you scared right now?”
“I’m not scared.”
“Then what are you feeling?”
“Okay, I do feel scared,” you admitted.
“Of me?”
“No,” you said. “I’m afraid that me admitting I have feelings for you will make you realize you don’t actually want me, and I’ll lose you.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, which made you laugh.
“I’m pretty dumb.”
“Pretty, yes, dumb, no,” he said.
“I know we haven’t finished dinner, but I’m really horny right now-”
Adrian let go of you and pushed everything off of the dining table. The bowls and glasses broke, sending ceramic, glass, soup, wine, and bread everywhere. You put your hands on your hips and sighed.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but if Clarence wakes up from his nap and comes in here he could step on a shard of glass and hurt his little paws,” you said. “Also, there’s nothing sexy about having sex with soup spilled on the floor.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just got really excited.”
You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind and kissed in between his shoulder blades. “I know. It’s okay. Why don’t you go check on Clarence and keep him out of the kitchen while I clean up.”
“I made the mess. I should clean,” he insisted.
“Adrian, you’ve literally killed for me just to make me happier,” you said. “I can handle this. You go play with Mr. Constipated.”
“He doesn’t actually have any bowel issues. I’ve been cleaning his box,” Adrian admitted.
You squeezed your arms around him. “You really are the best.”
You let him go and he spun around. He held your face and pulled your lips close to his. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” you said in a breathy voice.
Adrian held your face softly, running his thumb across your cheek to feel your soft, smooth skin. He leaned in and kissed you hesitantly. His lips brushed yours before pushing them apart. He held your upper lip and breathed heavily against you as he tasted you for the first time. You pushed for more, kissing him back more passionately, and he met your enthusiasm.
You broke off the kiss, then pecked his lips again before stepping back.
“Wait for me while I clean. I’ll be done soon,” you said.
“Be quick,” he told you. He put his glasses back on before he walked backwards out of the room, careful not to step on the glass on the floor while wearing just his socks. He didn’t want to stop looking at you, but he had to. He went through your living room to your bedroom, where Clarence was sleeping peacefully on the bed.
Adrian hopped onto your bed, startling Clarence. The cat went over to him and sniffed his face, before settling down on top of his chest. He purred loudly as Adrian pet him for the few minutes you were in the other room.
When you came into the doorway, Adrian’s eyes lit up. Even though he just saw you, you still took his breath away. It was like every second that passed made you even more beautiful.
“Stay just like that, I’m going to take a picture of you two,” you said, taking your phone out of your dress pocket. You snapped a picture of Adrian and Clarence cuddling on the bed. “Would you think it’s weird if I made this my lock screen?”
“Not at all,” Adrian said. “You’re already mine.”
You hopped onto the bed and kissed his cheek, then started petting Clarence with him. You took another photo, this time of the three of you, and set your phone down. Adrian put his arm around you and you snuggled closer to him. He felt so at home with you against him.
“Have you been in my bed before?” you asked.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I like to lay here sometimes to feel close to you.”
“That’s sweet.”
“I’ve also tried on some of your clothes. I took one of your pajama shirts and slept in it for a month.”
You gasped. “Was it my Rosie the Riveter shirt?”
“Maybe.”
“Adrian, that’s my favorite shirt to sleep in! I spent so long looking for it,” you groaned.
“I returned it!”
“I know! But I missed it while it was gone,” you said. “Next time, tell me when you take something so I don’t waste time looking for it. Also, so I can take some of your clothes as payback.”
“You’d look really cute in my uniform,” he said.
“Your Fennel Fields one?”
“No. My Vigilante one,” he admitted. You shot up, scaring Clarence, who bolted off of Adrian’s chest and ran out of the room. Adrian sat up with you, concerned that maybe telling you was a mistake.
“You- you’re- no. You’re Vigilante?” you asked.
Adrian nodded. “Does that scare you?”
“Are you kidding me? Of course it doesn’t,” you said. “That’s the coolest thing ever! Holy shit, my man is Vigilante!”
“Your man?”
“Oh, shit, is that- do you not want to be together? I just assumed that since you said you love me-”
“I want to be together,” he cut you off. “Fuck, I want that more than anything.”
“Me too.”
Adrian grabbed you and pulled you on top of him, then rolled the two of you over while you giggled. He kissed you haphazardly, kissing your lips and cheeks and jaw and the rest of your face randomly. He blew raspberries into your skin and ran his fingers across your sides over your dress. Your giggling turned into moans as he settled on a spot on your neck, sucking on your skin. Your foot traveled to his back and pushed him closer to you, then slid down his leg.
“I don’t want to take things slow,” you said breathlessly. “I want to be yours, Adrian. I want you to fuck me and love me and be with me. Keep following me and killing people who hurt me and taking care of me. I want to cook for you and hug you and do anything you want or need. Please, can we have that?”
He was pretty sure he could cum just by listening to the sound of your needy voice, especially when what you were saying was so perfect.
“Fuck yes,” he moaned. “Yes to all of it.”
“Fuck me, please,” you whined.
“Are you still on your period?” he asked, knowing you had been a few days ago.
“No. No, I’m not. You can fuck me.”
“I would’ve fucked you regardless,” he said. He was pretty sure you were into that from the groan that escaped your lips.
You pushed Adrian off of you, rolling him onto his back, and then straddled him. You tugged at the end of your dress, then pulled it up and off. Underneath it, you had on a sheer, floral thong, and a matching bra that left very little to the imagination. He hadn’t seen that set before. He would’ve remembered.
“You look beautiful.”
“I wore it for you,” you said. “I was hoping you’d sleep with me tonight.”
“It’s incredible. You’re incredible.”
“So you do like it? I just bought it, and I was hoping it wasn’t too extra.”
“It’s perfect,” he assured you. “Just like you are.”
You unclipped your hair from behind your head and let it tumble down over your shoulders. Adrian pushed it out of the way of your chest so he could look at your body. He couldn’t find a single flaw. He touched your chest, running his thumbs over the sheer fabric just above your nipples. You moaned and grinded down onto his crotch, making his growing cock harden faster.
“Please,” you whined. “Adrian, I need you right now.”
You started unbuttoning his jeans and he ripped off his shirt in a hurry. He helped you take off his jeans, pulling his boxers down at the same time. When they got to his knees, you pulled them off the rest of the way, taking his socks off with them. You sat at the end of his legs, your eyes trained on his erection.
“You’re…”
“Not that big, I know.”
“ Not that big ?” you scoffed. “Adrian, fuck, you’re, like, eight inches.”
“Seven and a half,” he corrected you.
“Can I touch it?” you asked quietly.
“Please do,” he said, eager to have your hands on his cock.
You leaned forward, your knees on either side of his claves, and tentatively put your hand on his crotch, right next to his dick. Your face was a few inches away from it, but you were looking at him. From that angle, Adrian could see your tits pressed against his thigh, and the arch of your back with your ass sticking up.
Looking at him, you licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, and Adrian shuddered at the feeling. Your tongue was hot and wet and felt almost as intoxicating as the look in your eye. You peered at him through long lashes, your hair falling into your face. He gently ran his finger through it, holding it out of the way so he could see you.
You circled the tip of his cock with your tongue before taking it in your mouth. Spit dripped down the base, which you used to stroke him. His tip tingled as you popped it in and out. You started taking it deeper, and he felt the heat of the inside of your mouth warm him. He let out a low groan and held tighter onto your hair. You pressed deeper still, taking his entire cock in your mouth. You gagged on it, but managed to bob your head slowly. Your eyes squeezed shut and you held onto his hip as you moaned onto his cock.
“That feels so good, beautiful,” he said. “I could cum just like this.
You pulled off of him to lick the side of his cock. “Not yet, baby.” You gently tugged on his balls and Adrian gripped the blankets as he gasped. Your tongue continued its exploration of his cock, leaving no inch untouched. The warm, pleasurable feeling inside of him deepend with your actions and he felt desperate to be inside of you.
“Fuck that’s good. So, so, so good. Oh, baby, please let me fuck you now,” he begged.
You moved off the bed to pull your thong off. It landed on the floor and you unclasped your bra, letting that fall too. You went towards the side drawer where you kept condoms. Adrian caught your hand before you could open it.
“No. I want to feel you without anything between us.”
You leaned over Adrian and kissed him in response. You climbed onto the bed and swung your leg over his body to straddle him again. While you kissed him, he reached for his cock. He took it in his hand and rubbed it against your pussy, making the both of you moan in unison. You were soaking wet for him, slick coming off of your cunt onto his cock.
“Please, put it inside me,” you whimpered.
Adrian pressed up into you and you buried your head in the crook of his neck, moaning in a high pitch. His head rushed as he went inside of you, feeling the warm wet walls of your pussy envelop his cock. He did the work of pushing in while you sank into his embrace. Your sweet whimpers filled his ears like a choir of angels. He wrapped his arms around you, holding your back and the base of your head.
He felt like he was being consumed by you in the best way possible. Your soft, plushy skin pressed against his. The smell of your shampoo wafted off your hair as he pressed his nose against it. Your cunt pulsed, inviting him to press in further, until his pelvis hit yours, and he had you completely.
You held onto Adrian’s arms like you were scared of falling if you loosened your grip. Your chest heaved against his. He kissed the top of your head and slowly started moving his hips, pleasure shooting through his body. Your moans got louder and he increased his pace, finding a steady rhythm for you both to enjoy.
“That’s it, my love,” he cooed. “Take me just like that. You’re doing such a good job.”
Your breath hit his neck in uneven waves.
“Does that feel good, baby? Too good to speak?”
You nodded against his neck.
“Are you going to cum for me, beautiful?” he cooed.
You nodded again and he brought your face up to kiss you, continuing to move in and out of you at the same pace, careful not to change anything as your orgasm started to brink. You struggled to kiss him back, and ended up with your mouth open against his as you breathed heavily.
Adrian felt your pussy clench around his cock, then get even wetter as you started to cum. He kept moving through it, catching your moans in his lips. He smoothed your hair and rubbed your back as your body shuddered over his. His cock twitched as he held himself back from finishing. He didn’t want to stop being with you.
He slowed to a halt, keeping his dick buried deep inside of you. Your breathing leveled out as you laid on his chest. Your death grip loosened and you let your head fall next to his. You kissed his jaw and hummed happily.
“That was incredible, Adrian,” you said in a whisper. He moved his hand from your hair to your jaw and kissed you softly. His dick twitched inside of you again, desperate to continue. As if reading his mind, you said, “You can keep going.”
“Can I put you in a new position?” he asked.
“Whatever one you want,” you said, kissing him again before pulling off of him. His cock ached to be inside of you again, so he didn’t waste time positioning you. He sat back on the bed, his back against the pillows and headboard. He beckoned you over to him and he held your hips, pulling you onto his lap so his chest was to your back.
“Sit on my cock,” he told you, and you obeyed. You sat down on it and he brought right leg up so his knee was in the air. He put your leg around it so your clit pressed against his thigh. “Is this alright?”
“It’s more than alright,” you said. You started bouncing on his lap, riding his cock and thigh. Your clit rubbed against his skin while you took his length. He held onto you, one arm around your stomach and the other wrapped around both of your tits. He looked over your shoulder and watched your body as it moved against and around him.
You pussy fit around his dick like a glove. It was perfect for him. Perfectly wet, perfectly hot, perfectly stroking his cock at all angles, sending waves of pleasure through him that were far greater than any anyone else had given him.
“You’re perfect,” he said into your ear. “I’m so glad you’re all mine, baby.”
Your breath hitched and you rode faster. Adrian held back, trying not to cum before you, but watching you ride him and feeling your cunt made his cock throb. He used his fingers to take the place of his thigh on your clit, rubbing tight circles on it. You made a crying-like sound and gripped the blanket. Your head flew back and you started shouting.
“Yes! Adrian, fuck, yes, please, please don’t stop. Adrian, Adrian, oh!”
Your body shuddered again as you came for a second time. Your walls clenched around him, squeezing his cock as he started thrusting in and out of you, feeling too close to let you continue bouncing.
Adrian chanted your name like a prayer and pleaded into your ear. “Please. Please, I’m gonna cum. Please, oh, oh please.” He finished inside of you before you finished your orgasm. He pressed his forehead to yours and rubbed your clit while he soaked your pussy in his cum. Your chest jerked and your mouth hung open. You put your hand over his, pulling it away from your clit, and he went back to holding your stomach.
The two of you sat in silence as you came down from your highs. He slowly pulled out of you, but kept you seated on his lap. He leaned against the headboard and you leaned against him, your breath heavy. You reached back and ran a hand through his hair. He kissed you softly, and you smiled against his lips.
“I’m so glad I finally have you,” Adrian said.
“Me too,” you agreed.
“I’ve loved you for so long. This feels too good to be real.”
“It’s real. I’m yours, baby, and you’re mine,” you said, and kissed him again chastely.
“I’m never letting go of you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Adrian kissed you again and kept holding you close. He loved you, and finally could be with you, and he wouldn’t let anything in the world ever come between you.