Day/Theme: April 20 Into every young man’s bedroom you gave it up
Word Count: 564
Written For: 31_days
Removing the scarf from around her neck, Bianca draped the long cream woolen material over the back of the chair. Shrugging off her jacket, she noticed Wyatt hadn’t said a single word for the past half hour; not even when they came home. A simple nod in agreement to leave was all he had to offer. Laying the jacket over the scarf she turned and inspected him. His eyes were downcast, his feet shifting in idle thought, his expression sullen.
“What’s wrong?” she asked with a sigh.
“Nothing,” he mumbled.
“Bullshit. You’ve been brooding for the past half hour or so. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking I don’t know how to trust you anymore,” he snapped.
“Why?” she asked incredulously.
“Because of all the stories I’ve been hearing about you tonight.”
Tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek, she took a seat on the bed and looked away, thinking of the amalgamation of things that may have come to light being around people who had known her longer than he had. Her gaze passing back to him, she watched him guardedly
“What did they tell you?” she queried.
“They gave me a little insight into your reputation and methods.”
“Uh huh,” she murmured.
“Do you know how difficult it was for me to hear that into every young man’s bedroom you gave it up?” he questioned.
She looked at him pensively. “You know how hard it was for me back then.”
“I do but I don’t want to be questioning your fidelity every minute I’m around you.”
“That’s really unfair,” she responded irately. “You know how much I love you. I have never cared about anyone as much as I have you.”
“Old habits die hard,” he said blatantly.
Glaring at him, she pushed herself off the bed and wrenched open the door, slamming it behind her. He had no right to accuse her of that. What she had done then she had done to survive. She was not that person anymore. She was a better person, because of him. She didn’t know how he could assume he’d had no impact on her at all.
She dropped onto the couch, propping her elbow on the padded arm, pushing her head into her hand. Every little insignificant detail came back into her mind. She closed her eyes, trying to block out those things that she did not want to remember.
“Bianca,” Wyatt said softly. Opening her eyes she shifted her fingers to glance up at him. “I didn’t mean to sound accusing.”
“I don’t question you about your exes and charges,” she said pointedly.
“It wasn’t all of them,” she said quietly.
“I’m not asking for a tally. I’m… just jealous,” he admitted, sitting across from her on the edge of the coffee table. “I prefer to think you’re entirely mine. I don’t want to have to wonder if you’re thinking about someone else. I don’t want to have to see some guy hit on you in the club and actually think about whether you’re going to nail him. I don’t want you to feel like you have to push yourself that far.”
“I don’t… it’s you. It’s only ever going to be you.”
Taking her hand, he lifted it to his lips and gently grazed it with a kiss. She sniffled lightly.
“Peace?” he asked pleadingly.
“Peace,” she agreed.