Part 5 of 8
Chapter 5 - What The Lamp Saw
1,634 words · 7 min read
CHAPTER 5: WHAT THE LAMP SAW
His flat was on the third floor, and the climb gave her exactly enough time to panic and decide against it.
One lamp on in the corner. Amber. The rest of the room happy to stay out of it. He took her coat like it was a ceremony, set his keys down, and then stood there looking at her the way men look at weather they respect.
"It's been a year," she said, before her courage could leave the room. "More than a year."
He crossed to her slowly. "Then we're not rushing a single minute of it."
He turned her gently by the shoulders. His hands found the zip below the back of her neck and drew it down her spine like he was opening a letter he'd waited a long time for. The wine-red dress let go of her shoulders, slid, and pooled at her feet.
The lamp did its best work then. Burgundy lace, matching, bought two years ago for an occasion that never came.
The occasion had arrived.
He sucked air through his teeth, slow. "You wore this for a workshop?"
"I wore it in case of taxis."
"Palesa." Her name in his mouth like a low gear. "There is no taxi coming."
He said it against her ear, and his mouth followed the line of her neck down to her shoulder, unhurried — a man reading the first page of something he intended to finish.
She reached back for him. He caught her wrists, gently, completely, and folded her arms across her own waist, holding her there with her back against the heat of his chest.
"Not yet," he said. "I'm still reading."
What happened next is the reason this story exists.
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