Fortunately, her mom had already gone into the kitchen; she'd have been disappointed that Eric wasn't dying to learn every detail of her improved house. Amber, though, was relieved. "I do have a lot of bags," she said. It was the flimsiest of excuses. If anyone overheard them, they wouldn't believe their flirtatious lies for one second. But she was saying it for Eric alone, playing along with his growing enthusiasm. "We should get started on that."
She'd have kissed him then and there, but that seemed frustrating. Here she'd have to stick with mere a peck and with just a few steps she could have so, so much more. With a wide smirk, Amber tugged him away from the table and to the stairs. She didn't say goodnight to the others, as that'd mean more conversation than she was up to. If they just bolted away, then they could happen to 'fall asleep' and not put up with anyone else until tomorrow.
Amber scurried up the stairs. Growing up, she'd had her own way of going up this staircase, three steps at a time. It was strange, leading Eric up-- the steps weren't wide enough for them to go side-by-side-- feeling the urge to go at her old, automated pace, but not able to, with him there.
She drew him into her room and firmly closed the door. The space felt tinier than ever: not only were there the old computer and VHS player her parents had dumped in here, but now there were their bags and two full-grown, large adults. She’d longed to take Eric's face between her hands and kiss him deep; to press into him and have him touch her into forgetting all the old humiliations being at home brought back. But as she did it, covering his mouth fast and eager, it was also to keep him from looking too closely at her room.
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She'd have kissed him then and there, but that seemed frustrating. Here she'd have to stick with mere a peck and with just a few steps she could have so, so much more. With a wide smirk, Amber tugged him away from the table and to the stairs. She didn't say goodnight to the others, as that'd mean more conversation than she was up to. If they just bolted away, then they could happen to 'fall asleep' and not put up with anyone else until tomorrow.
Amber scurried up the stairs. Growing up, she'd had her own way of going up this staircase, three steps at a time. It was strange, leading Eric up-- the steps weren't wide enough for them to go side-by-side-- feeling the urge to go at her old, automated pace, but not able to, with him there.
She drew him into her room and firmly closed the door. The space felt tinier than ever: not only were there the old computer and VHS player her parents had dumped in here, but now there were their bags and two full-grown, large adults. She’d longed to take Eric's face between her hands and kiss him deep; to press into him and have him touch her into forgetting all the old humiliations being at home brought back. But as she did it, covering his mouth fast and eager, it was also to keep him from looking too closely at her room.