Paint Me, Professor | Student-Professor Erotic Novel | 18+ | ✔️

78 - Kiss

Alison
***

I woke up to the uncomfortable feeling of my stockings pressing against my stomach and my dress riding up. I pulled it down with my eyes shut only to realize I was alone in Chris' bed.

I looked at the door, wiping the sleep out of my eyes. It was closed, but I could hear the vacuum cleaner on. Desperate to get those scratchy stockings off, I got out of bed and walked to the closet. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I felt a pounding headache.

Gotta go easy on the booze next time, Ali.

I opened my drawer to retrieve a hoodie and leggings. When I opened it, my heart thumped at the sight of my necklace resting neatly over my soft t-shirts. I had wondered what Chris had done to it after I took it off in that lecture hall, and now I had the answer.

He knew I'd come back to him. Why else would he keep not only the necklace but also my clothes?

I put the necklace on, putting on a crewneck instead of a hoodie to show it off to Chris. I wanted him to know I wasn't angry anymore.

After I got dressed and got ready in the bathroom, I walked out. Instead of shoes, I opted for fuzzy, warm socks. I glided down the slippery corridor, reaching the kitchen and finding Chris vacuuming under the couch. The living space was pretty clean, but the kitchen looked rough. It was as if he hadn't washed dishes in days.

I approached him, not knowing what to do to get his attention. I just waited for him to turn around, and when he did he immediately turned the loud machine off. We stared at each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

There was a sense of unfinished business in the air. We both knew our emotional, alcohol infused argument last night did enough to at least make us realize we wanted each other, but it didn't do much else. There was still so much we needed to talk about, to come to terms with, to make agreements on. That thought alone drained me, so I kept quiet.

"I have something for you," he said, swallowing dry. "You can sit down if you want. I'll get it."

I sat on the couch as he asked, grateful that he had put the wheels in motion without going straight to what happened last night.

"Close your eyes," he instructed from the kitchen once he noticed I was looking at him. I did as he asked. I heard him fumble with a plastic bag as well as plates and cutlery. That was when I heard the flicker of a lighter and my heart thumped for the second time that morning.

He walked over to the couch and sat next to me.

"Alright, you can open them now," he said softly.

My eyes opened as fast as a switch. Chris was holding a perfect little cake in his hands, a single candle sticking in the center. It looked more like an oversized red velvet cupcake with vanilla frosting on top.

"I went to get it while you were asleep," he said in a soft voice. "I hope it isn't bad luck to blow out candles on the day after your birthday, but I just wanted to celebrate it with you even though I know it's not the same."

My stomach flipped at his thought gesture. The feeling was quickly replaced with sadness as I remembered how I spend my birthday. My friends made me feel better, but not enough to distract me from the emptiness in my heart.