Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Him Part Seven

I followed mindlessly behind Michael as he pulled me toward the oldest and, in my opinion, most beautiful hotels in Paris. The architecture alone would have made me pause to bask in its glory if he wasn’t with me.

But I barely glanced at it, catching the briefest glimpse at the gargoyles that guarded its exterior near the top of the tall building. When we stepped inside, I was equally as enthralled. From the marble floors, to the old world lighting that only amplified its romantic appearance as it glimmered off the floors and the hand carved walls.

To my surprise, the ceiling in the massive lobby was painted in a similar fashion to the Sistine Chapel, but again, Michael didn’t slow down as he stepped inside the open elevator and pressed the button at the top.

Even the elevator was extravagant in its beauty. Its walls were made of etched glass and the buttons were black knobs against a brass panel.

That was when I noticed the man, who still held my hand with a cool, firm grip, was looking down at me with those blue eyes.

And I forgot about the building, the exterior, the interior, even the elevator we stood in. Nothing else captured my attention like his eyes. They were like the stormiest of the cold, wintry seas of the Northern Atlantic, and I never wanted to look away.

With a ding, the elevator door opened revealing a set of massive oak French doors ahead of us. The penthouse. I gulped and followed Michael’s lead as he unlocked and opened the door.

Then he released me.

What I saw inside took my breath away and my feet moved further into the luxurious space as I took it all in. The tall, expansive windows looked out toward the Eiffel Tower. The last of the day’s light was disappearing, but still reflecting off the metal’s surface and it reminded me of shooting stars as Michael’s arms wrapped around me from behind.

I didn’t even hear him close the door, let alone walk up behind me.

But I didn’t care. I melted against him and gripped his strong forearms that were crossed in front of me.

He dipped his head toward the curve of my neck and I trembled as his cool breath hit my flesh. Though I was still looking at the tower in the distance, my mind was on him.

“The view, isn’t nearly as beautiful as you,” he breathed and I nearly collapsed under the air that traveled over my ear like a caress. His words traveled down my spine and I turned in his arms without thinking.

I no longer cared that he was cool to the touch and lacked body heat.

Those blue eyes met mine, searching before his gaze dropped to my mouth and I reached up to touch his face. I could feel the shadow that was beginning to darken his jaw as it scratched against my palms. Then I let my fingers slide back into his dark blond hair, which felt better than silk against my skin.

Then I pulled him down and kissed him, hard.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 7 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4part 5, and part 6.
Want to read the whole thing in one place? Click here.
Stay tuned for more.

This was also published at UInk.ca.

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45 thoughts on “Him Part Seven”

  1. And I forgot about the building, the exterior, the interior, even the elevator we stood in. Nothing else captured my attention like his eyes. They were like the stormiest of the cold, wintry seas of the Northern Atlantic, and I never wanted to look away.

    I love this paragraph and I love how you describe his beautiful eyes.

    Liked by 1 person

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