Crave For You

Sofia

I have stopped trying to fight fate. It's no use from what I have endured so far. Fate is the ruler of all. What happens happens not because of human choices but because it just needs to happen. God has a plan, at least that's what my mother used to say. I try to convince myself of that plan at times, but all I do is end up hating God for the hand he dealt me.

It isn't right. Nothing is ever right.

It isn't right that I feel comfort and safety in the arms of a man who twirled on a dance floor with another woman a few hours ago. I feel like I am committing a crime—snatching something from another woman who is just in the same position as me.

Does she know that there is a woman in her fiancė's arms currently? Does she know that he is taking that woman to a room from which she has been barred?

What does that make me?

I'm too scared to think of it. If I let the thought in, it's going to crumble something in me. I cannot fathom the idea of leaving Gabriel again after just getting him back, partly but still.

I am faintly aware of where he is taking me. All I can do is peek under tapered lids as he enters his room—once ours—and heads straight for the bathroom. It is the fresh lemony scent that hits me first, awakening parts of me from the tragedy of recent events. My brain welcomes the new sensation and owns it as its creation.

Gabriel carries me to the bathtub. He puts me down gently, keeping an arm around my waist to keep me steady like he is afraid I would break if he lets go.

I wouldn't break. I cling to him because he gives me rest. It is comfortable holding him when things are turning seventy-five ways shitty. I can rely on him. If I let go, he would catch me and I need someone to catch me at times. We all do. Not every battle can be fought alone.

He turns the taps, the gurgling water hitting the bottom of the tub with a splash and making me groan. It looks welcoming. He lets the water fill as he turns to me—his eyes two intense orbs of darkness and warmth intermingling. There is tension lingering in his body still. However, I know I would be untouched.

"May I?" he asks, flicking his gaze to the buttons on my pajama.

I nod slowly and he proceeds to reach them. I lean into his body as his skilled fingers undo my top, letting it greet the floor. A chill greets the tips of my breasts, hardening my nipples instantly. Like a gentleman, he doesn't look, or at least tries to. He goes down on his knees before me, again, but the concern doesn't disappear. With a tug, he unties the drawstrings holding the bottoms in place and the silky material smoothes down my legs.

I stand before him naked as a newborn, which is fitting because I feel like I have been reborn. The number of times I have escaped death, I like to think I am in some way God's favorite.

Gabriel wets a washcloth, his fingers becoming concentrated participants as he wipes my body of the blood. He starts with my face, his eyes on me and his brows narrowed. He cleans me with careful movements before moving his hand downward. He cleans my neck, the cloth breezing the sides of my breasts which tingle to make him touch them. His pupils expand as he moves downward, sweeping away all the crimson against my skin.

Gabriel holds my elbows as I step out of the bundle of clothes. The tub has filled in enough. With one hand, he checks the temperature, turns the taps off, and then drops a lavender-scented body wash into the water. It smells enchanting.

I step inside, one foot after another, the lukewarm water bringing instant relief to my mind. I sit down, relaxing and wanting to drown in it as it washes away the last hour. I give in to the urge, ducking my head inside and then coming up for air with a gasp. The action jolts me, my eyes widening themselves and my breaths becoming quicker.