Page 194 of Overcast

We drovefour hours until we hit another patch of woods that was just minutes outside a small city called Silver Lake. Marty refused to disclose where we were going, telling me that as long as we weren’t around the others, it didn’t matter.

He wasn’t wrong.

I’d go across the country with him if it meant listening to music with the windows down and him holding my hand. The stolen kisses he took when we stopped for gas and the way his hands always had to be somewhere on my body. Another adventure with Marty, something I’d never forget and always want to look back upon.

When we arrived at our surprise destination, I couldn’t help the giant smile that broke free. It was the most romantic and charming place—next to Marty’s cabin—that I’ve ever seen.

Covered in a dark navy blue siding and white trim, the little house has a porch that extends along the whole front with patio furniture and beautiful pink flowers bordering the edge. A willow tree freely sits next to it, accompanying the scenery of a lake in the back, glistening against the sun’s rays.

Hopping from the truck, Marty extends his hand to me, already waiting to walk inside.

As soon as the door opens, the pristine white cabinets and countertops of the kitchen glisten off the lighting from the three skylight windows and the massive ones around the sides. The living room adjoins it, with a flat-screen TV over a stone fireplace, a gray sectional that matches the darker hardwood floors. Freshly cut flowers sit on the coffee table and the kitchen island, giving it a homey feel. Especially with the sliding door that leads outside, giving me a full view of the lake and swing overlooking it.

“Oh my gosh,” I awe, soaking in every inch of the place. “This place is gorgeous.”

“Found it online,” he replies, stepping in behind me and wrapping his arms around my middle. “And you know I had to find a lake for us to swim in.”

I smirk, admiring the small dining table made of wood with a glossy finish. “Good choice.”

“Which means we should get naked right now and go for a swim.” Craning my neck, I’m met with mischievous hazel eyes that pricks deliciously at my skin.

“You’re bad.”

He bends closer, lips brushing against my temple. “You’ve known that from the beginning, sweetheart. Now I can’t stop thinking about all the misbehaving you and I can do since we’re finally alone.”

I lean into him, meshing our bodies together and indulge in how comfortable he feels against me. How I’m beyond elated that we got to do this and that he wanted me all to himself for a few days.

“Is that why you brought me here?” I ask.

“That and because I can watch you walk around naked.” I turn in his hold, pressing my chest into his and tilting my chin upward. His grip tightens possessively around me, studying my face for something. “You have to know by now.”

“Know what?”

“That I have a hard and very serious case of fixation when it comes to you. And I never want to let you go.”

Then don’t.

It’s at the tip of my tongue, but it’s hard for me to decipher the true meaning behind his words.

Is his fixation purely temporary, or is it more?

Where do we really lie?

He has his own world, one that lies underneath what normal people see on a day to day.

I’m something that can’t go that deep.

An outsider that painfully sticks out and reminds him that we’re not the same.

I prefer living in a bubble of, what he’d probably call, rainbows and butterflies, and he craves to bring justice in whatever means necessary, which includes death.

No matter where we came from, I feel as though he’ll always believe I’m judging him. When all I want to do is just be in his arms and breathe him in. To see him every day and take care of him however I can.

I rise on my tiptoes and press a chaste kiss to his lips.

We’ll talk about it.

If I can get my vocal cords to express everything that has been transpiring through my heart.

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