A MOAN OF LONGING

A MOAN OF LONGING
 “This is a job offer, Nectar. Do we really have to spend the rest of the time ignoring each other?” he groans while looking sleepily at me.

That tired look on his face isn’t something that I thought would turn me on. But it did. And I’m still enthralled by it that I don’t remember to reply.

“I had always known you were Lupin’s daughter even when you graduated from art school some months ago,” he continues while I’m still in a daze. “At that time, your friend shared a few of your works on her social media, which went viral. I somehow found the post and got interested in your work. I loved how you used your brushes, how you mixed your palette, and how you chose your colors. They felt calm, like the dusk of a wintry day. It’s why I so badly wanted to paint with you.”

I snapped back to reality around the last seven words, my brain quickly registering those words. “If you wanted to work with me, you could have just invited me to a professional setting, where there are staffs instead, Why did you have to bring me to your personal space, where it’s just two of us, and your scent hangs around the house. Anything could happen!” I retort, throwing my hands in the air. “I now wish you hadn’t invited me to such private setting, because I tend to overthink things, and I tend to be delusional. I find deep meanings for every little action, and now I—”

My lips quiver as my sentence hangs in my throat. What I was going to say was ‘I’ve fallen deeper for you due to your endearing actions at the event’ but now I can’t even say that, as it will only make me look more stupid.

So as not to keep embarrassing myself, I walk past the man, making for the living room. But Blank chases after me.

“Nectar!” he calls, prompting me to stop and whip around to face him under the archway.

“You want to know what I think?” I ask. “This is what I think.”

Threading back to the man, I stand on my tiptoe, snake my fingers to the man’s nape, pull him downward, then kiss him.

He doesn’t stop me. If he wanted to stop me, there was enough time to do so.

Even now, he should have broken the kiss. He should have pushed me away from him. But he doesn’t. Instead, I’m the one who breaks the kiss.

“You’re an adult, Blank. You knew I was falling for you from the very first day, but pretended not to know,” I tell him, coming down to my normal height as I let the hand at his nape slide down his broad chest, stopping on his heart area. “Well, now you know. I intend to put you in a difficult spot. Think about what I just did. By tomorrow, If you still insist that this thing between us is a purely professional relationship, then let’s move it to a more formal level. I don’t mind coming to Hazmat company to work with you everyday for the rest of the week, and I don’t mind asking my dad to pay if they insist it’s a breach of contract. But if you think you called me here because you had more intimate feelings for me, then let’s go ahead with what we’re doing here.”

>>>>>>>>

That night, something triggered me to sleep like a baby once I retired to bed. When I wake up the next morning, I check my phone, only to see the trend online.

Aunt Mellow had posted the original picture that Blank painted on her social media account. The same account that had been disabled for two years now.

The post carries the description ‘the last time we met’, which is now sparking more dating rumors.

There are even AI videos about the two—possibly from people who are already shipping them, since there’s nothing fans won’t ship nowadays. I mean, it’s absolutely gross and painful to see.

I crawl out of bed and make for the kitchen, hoping to meet Blank. But since I don’t see him, he probably hasn’t woken up. And if he hasn’t woken up, he hasn’t seen the trend. That could be a good thing, right?

While I fix something to eat, a door creaks open from the hallway before Blank shows up under the archway, his hands dipped into his pockets as he leans his shoulder against the wall.

“Good morning,” he greets, looking at me intently.

“Good morning,” I respond, now smiling and avoiding his gaze.

“Did you sleep well?” he mumbles, earning a nervous nod from me. “Come over to the sitting room, I need to talk to you.”

I quickly raise my head to look at the man, and I catch him already moving to the sitting room.

“First of all, my feelings for you has nothing to do with daddy issues,” I utter across the room. “My dad loves me to the core, and treats me fine.”

Blank sits in one of the couch, facing the kitchen. “I know that. Come on.” He motions for me to approach, but I don’t intend to sit down in that living room while talking to him.

That alone seems too serious. It gives me a bad vibe about the conversation to be had.

“What is it you have to tell me that you can’t just say here?” I ask, referring to the kitchen, my tone growing blunt.

Blank’s brows suddenly crease. “How do you expect me to treat you like an adult when you won’t act like one, Nectar?”

“Oh, now I’m acting like a child?”

“You were reasonable days ago. What happened to you?”

“I bet you like me, sir, but you’re trying to deny it. Is it the age difference?” I rant. But Blank doesn’t reply to that. “Fine.” I grab a mug from the cabinet and fill it with water from the kitchen faucet before holding it out in his direction. “I say you drink if you think I’m lying. I trust that you’ll be honest.”

Blank remains in his seat, so I take the mug to him myself. He doesn’t still receive it, merely looking between the mug and me for quite a while before finally grabbing it.

As he holds the drink, his fingers twitch with uncertainty as he stares down at it in silence. And my heart starts breaking into several pieces at the realization that I may have been delusional AGAIN.

Blank sighs. He looks like he has given up. “Nectar, isn’t this extreme? Fine, I like you. When I invited you here, I tried to convince myself I was doing it for work. I tried to fight the feelings, but they just won’t go away.”

Why fight them, then? If the feelings are there, why not just acknowledge them?

“So what’s your problem?” I ask calmly as my talons retract.

Blank reaches to set the mug on the side stool. “The age difference bothers me, and you’re Zeath’s daughter.”

I huff. “Like you said, I’m an adult. It’s not like I’m sixteen. And I’m not moved by stupid fantasies.”

Without thinking twice, I lift my left knee onto the hand rest of Blank’s couch, my hands cupping his face as I bend down to give him another kiss.

The subtle electrocution that sparks from our tangling tongues courses through my body and settles in my stomach.

Soon, they start dancing lower. And lower. And lower. Until they reach my vagina. And I can’t help but let out a moan of longing into Blank’s mouth.