Funny thing. Luka said he would call me and he hasn't.
Huh.
Okay, let me clear something up. This is my second day with Carter. I'm in his bed. My second morning. *Our* second morning together. Needless to say, I've enjoyed every minute of our contact. Okay? Anyone who has listened to my rants would have guessed.
So I've come to this self-involved conclusion: Abby Lockhart is going to enjoy her time with John Carter.
Abby Lockhart is going to go ahead and do this with John Carter.
Abby Lockhart is going to have an affair.
With John Carter.
Please don't think that I'm completely okay with this. But, in some ways I am. Unfortunately, one of my excuses is that Luka hasn't called. But, look at me! I'm happy. Everyone who has been around me could see that. I'm happier than, I'll say it. I'm happier that I have ever been in my entire life.
I swear.
So I'll say goodbye to the world tonight, and for the rest of my free week. Carter understands. He doesn't do it because he wants me, but because he knows what I feel like. Somehow. Like I said, he just knows.
He just is.
Honestly, I think people end up in hell for things like this. Am I going against my religion when I say, "So be it?"
Let me be. If I want to sin, let me sin.
Because no one knows how I feel. I've already told you, I know. But he's the person I want to be with. And I'm afraid. Its not one of the bigger reasons that I'm doing this, but I'm afraid. In fear of my doing something stupid if I am alone this week. Or if I was with Luka.
Hell, being with Luka... being alone... starting to become the same thing these days.
"Hey," he says turning to me.
It strikes my thoughts, and tears them in two. I should thank him for that, but I won't. I don't want to talk now. I want him to talk to me. I love his voice, I love his face. I love when he is speaking directly to me.
"How are you?"
Now I want to talk. So he will talk back.
"Good," I yawn, my arms stretching on either side of his head as it lowers around me. As he kisses me with all of that morning kiss sweetness, I bring those arms down and hook them around his neck. His hands slide up my sides until they're on the length of my stomach. I smile against his lips.
"I'm glad you're doing better," he says quietly. He pecks my lips again and I smile. He smiles, too.
I'm smiling.
"Me, too," I manage as he kisses my eyelids. Would you guess that I didn't even know men kissed women on their eyes? I swear, I have never known. But he did it to me yesterday. And every sane feeling washed away. I asked him about it, and he's said he's never done it before.
He kisses my eyes. I... well, that's something I have never had. It's a beautiful move.
"I, um," he whispers, brushing hair away from my face and forehead, "I called in for us."
My eyebrows arch a bit. "Called in?"
"I got us a day off," he says. He doesn't smile. He awaits my reaction.
"Carter," I say, a little louder. "People are going to suspect things."
"Why?"
I sigh. "People see that both you and I have taken a day off - "
"I told her that I was helping you look for furniture for your apartment."
"Oh, God," I say, putting my hand over my face.
"What?" he asks, his face close to mine as he removes the hand from my face. "What? What is it?"
"That's the typical affair answer," I argue, propping my body onto my elbows against pillows and a headboard. I reach for my hair tie on the nightstand and pull my hair into a high ponytail. I let my hands fall in frustration and shake my head.
"Don't call it that - "
"That's what it is, Carter," I say, my head pointed toward the ground. "And I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't." But I want to. I'm already watching his lips.
"Don't think about it," he answers, sliding up next to me and taking my side. He puts a hand on my neck and pulls my solemn, frowning face to him. Kissing my cheek, my temples, he says, "Don't think about it."
God, I'm so stressed. I told myself I would enjoy this. What happened?
I'll fix it before it's too late. I have one week where Luka isn't here, where I finally come to real terms about these feelings, and where I have the chance to be with Carter.
Something someone terrible does.
I don't care. I can't care today. Or tomorrow. Or for the rest of the week, okay? Don't hate me. I'm allowed to do something stupid and unfair.
I nod, my face coming up to meet him. I giggle slightly, shyly and put a hand on each cheek of his. He smiles at this reaction and holds my wrists. He bends and kisses each of them, both of us still smiling vividly.
"You," he says with a small chuckle, "are beautiful."
I can just smile bashfully and look away. Then back. "Ha, thanks."
His face twists into a cute grin. "You are, Abby," he says, kissing wrists again. "You're so beautiful. Look how pretty you are. Just look." He points to the mirror carefully crafted behind us in the headboard.
I cock my head and look at him. He just tilts his head to the mirror. I give in, roll my eyes a little, and look over.
I see my same face. But, its full of light. I'm smiling. My hands are still holding his face, and he's holding my wrists. Still. He nods with a smile. He's beaming.
My smile drops to a frown. As does his.
"What?" He looks back toward the mirror, then back to me.
I shake my head. Another smile forms. I'll never get tired of smiles. "Look at me," I say simply, my head pointed down. My fingers grace his skin. "I'm smiling. I'm happy, Carter."
He laughs and grabs my hands. "Come on."
I laugh, too. "What?"
He pulls me away from the bed. "Come on."
I laugh. Again. I love this game. Its my turn to repeat. "What?"
He pulls me into the bathroom, kissing me softly. I take him and attempt to bring him closer. He starts to part, and I separate to question this.
He throws in my clothes. "Get ready."
I giggle. Me, giggling. "What?"
"Get dressed," he says. "We're going out." He nods and throws the door shut. I giggle again for a little bit as I pull my clothes on. I hope that when I open the door he'll just be waiting there, and he'll kiss me. I know it won't happen. Oh, well. I know that he'll be somewhere else in the apartment waiting for me.
God, I matter to him. He matters to me.
I open the door and the apartment is silent. "Carter?" I call out. From around the corner, there he is. He takes me by my waist and brings me to the door. He's fully dressed. And he's as happy as I am. We walk out the door, giggling like kids all the while.
What do you know? He was waiting for me outside that door.
