My skin glides against his flaming one as my giggles penetrate our dimly dark bedroom. His lips leave their chaste yet loving mark on my neck, causing all my insides to melt. I run my fingers through his silky strands of blonde hair and reveal his face. His grin, as well as his darkening eyes, pierce through mine; my abdomen clenches in sweet anticipation.

He leans down just so his nose caresses mine. A giggle escapes through my lips as my bottom one is captured by my teeth. I push my palms against his feverish neck, and down to me, near to my lips till I crash them to his. He groans as if he wants more and grips my chin to keep me steady. When he breaks the kiss, our shallow and rapid breaths echo.

"Wait," His eyes flatter quickly.

"What?" I ask. He reaches over the nightstand and picks his phone up. The light of his screen causes me to blink and turn, instinctively, on the other side.

"Shit, we have to go,"

"What?" I repeat as my eyes find his. "Where are you going?" Before I wrap myself around him not to let him go, his skin leaves mine. The warmth under the white sheets escapes, trapping me in the coldness of the surrounding atmosphere.

"Not just me, we are," He gets out of the bed; the dim light of the streetlamp has slid through my window, allowing me to see him getting dressed.

"What?"

"We're are going out," He announces. I sit up, supporting my weight on my flat palms against the mattress. "Remember how I said we never had a dinner for a date?"

"Hmm,"

"We have a reservation. In thirty minutes," I stare at him, and a smile finds its way to my lips.

"You really did that?" I title my head to the side, noticing every little move of his. His muscles clench before he spins and his eyes meet mine.

"The fact that you're surprised, kind of ruins it,"

"No, no, it's not like that," I ramble. "I just never thought you would remember it and book a reservation, that fast." His eyes narrow as if he doesn't believe my words. I wrap myself with the sheet and walk to him.

He stands in front of my glassy and diaphanous window. The ambient light from his back provides light as a halo around his head. I circle his neck and lock them behind it.

"It's really sweet. Thank you," I whisper and offer him a small smile. His eyes seem to wander around the contours of my face as if he wishes to drink all of me in. He surges himself at me. I moan at the impact of his hammering lips on mine and before I know it, he raises me off the ground so that my thighs are wrapped around his torso.

He walks towards the bed, though, my toes touch the frozen surface of the ground a bit too early.

"The red dress, please," He mutters in my ear and walks right past me. He seems to have difficulty moving away from me. I attempt to swallow my laughter, but I don't succeed. His smirk makes me bite my lower lip. He shakes his head.

"Twenty minutes," He announces before shutting the door.

The fabric of my red dress ends too high for my usual standards, though, after I apply a little make-up and curl my hair at the ends, a wave of confidence blossoms in my heart. I spin in front of my mirror as a pride smile of enthusiasm graces my lips.

My heels echo against the marble stairs of our staircase in the front porch. The weather is chilly as the light wind blows my hair a little. Just when my eyes land on my angel, the oxygen gets knocked out of me, violently. His silhouette is leaned against his black jeep as the petite device of his phone is occupying his left hand. His black jeans contract with the white shirt but matches the black jacket; I grin. He wears the clothes I bought for him from Chicago too. I walk closer when he looks up from his phone.

A smirk kisses his lips before he throws his phone in his back pocket. He closes the distance between us; his lips find mine. His arms snake around my waist till he tightens his grip that I can't move an inch. My heartbeat accelerates with every second our mouths are attached, yet, I, somehow, notice the graceful way he walks back towards the house.

"What-" I try to speak, though, he doesn't approve.

"Changed my mind," He mumbles before he crashes his lips back on mine.

"No, no, no...Corbyn, I'm hungry," I complain upon his lips. His eyes pierce through mine; the small distance separating our eyes makes me dizzy as his pupils have drowned my favorite sapphire blue.

"Me too," He leans to kiss me again.

"Not like that, I didn't mean that," I giggle and he kisses the soft spot under my ear before he whispers; fine. He takes my hand in his.

"You look amazing by the way," I smile but before I can return the compliment, he ravages my mouth once again.

The soothing melody that booms through the speakers of the car comes to a halt and a calling sound echoes. My eyes land on the small screen next to the wheel and find a name I don't know.

"What's up?" Corbyn answers. I browse around the busy road as an unfamiliar voice speaks. My stomach clenches when I comprehend that the man is talking about the court and Corbyn's parents. Although, the unknown terms he uses, make it even more difficult for me to keep up.

"Fuck," Corbyn snaps and I frown, turning my whole attention towards him. "What does that mean? I can't fucking believe them!" His voice rises, unexpectedly, along with the speed of the car.

"Fine," Corbyn hisses and ends the call rapidly, puffing out air.

"What's going on?"

"They fucking changed the form of the motion he filed last week for my sister's custody. That son of a bitch,"

"He?"

"My loving father," He, ironically, explains and he poisons the word as if he feels disgusted by having to pronounce it.

"What will you do?" His eyes shut for a second when he swallows painfully; I watch his throat move.

"We have to go over the case again, make a tone of changes all over again," He keeps his voice neutral and quiet, though, I know that troubled silence. A quietness above the blazing chaos of the tremendous power of his rage. "I'll go by his house later,"

"Do you want to go, now?"

"What?" He turns to me. "No, I don't want to ruin this,"

"It's not that, Corbyn. You won't enjoy our dinner like this. Go to his house to figure this out. It's more important,"

"No, tomorrow we have school and I have got practice and a game afterward. We won't have any time for us,"

"We'll find some. Go," His eyes are a mirror of his concerned and awake mind as he weighs his options inside his head.

"What about you?"

"Just drop me in the house," At the sound of my voice, he turns the whole car around rapidly, making me stick to my seat. My breath gets hitched for a second.

"You will come too,"

"Where? In his house?" I frown.

"Yea,"

"No, you don't..." I start but he interrupts me.

"No, either you come with me or I don't go at all." His eyes turn to mine and I close my mouth after rolling my eyes which causes him to smirk.

"That isn't playing fair,"

"I don't remember saying I ever did," He jokes, seductively, and I feel my heart somersault by the way his eyes trap me.

Our fingers are interlocked as I hear the sound of the doorbell bouncing around the walls from the interior of the house.

"Welcome," A middle-aged man appears in the frame of the door with a grand smile. Corbyn nods and follows his signal to enter the house.

"Hello," I say.

"I'm Robert, better known as Corbyn's lawyer," He jokes and earns a smile of mine. "Please, come in," He waves towards the interior of the house. We walk by a chic living room just to find a woman cooking in the kitchen just behind the wall separating the two spaces.

"Hey," She cheers as soon as she sees us. The boiling water on the casserole catches my eye for a second before I return her broad and kind smile.

"I'm Robert's wife, Mary,"

"Amelia, it's lovely to meet you," I answer as we shake our hands.

"I heard the news about the court. I'm sorry Corbyn but I'm sure you'll figure this out as good as the last time they ambushed you," Her eyes seem empathetic towards my angel as her expression melts into something sweet and lonely. She maybe understands Corbyn's situation better than I could ever; I wonder if she is a lawyer like her husband.

"We will," Robert reassures her, and Corbyn nodding. "I think this time we should..."

"Why don't you..." Maria starts. "Go with Corbyn to work on the case and Amelia can hang out with me here. I'm sure this bores you too," She guesses, smiley, and I can't help but giggle.

"Fine, call us when the dinner is ready. You will eat with us, right?" Robert asks Corbyn and me. We exchange a few silent gazes and my heart flutters secretly; he didn't answer before thinking what I would like to do. When I shrug, he speaks.

"Yea, okay,"

"Great!" She cheers. "Would you like something for now?"

"I'm good," Corbyn mutters before following the rapid strides of Robert out of the modern kitchen. My eyes run around taking in the white kitchen decorated with black vases with red flowers.

"Would you like something to drink, Amelia?"

"Just some water," I reply when I sit down on a glistening high stool in front of her wide kitchen island which is filled with chopped colorful vegetables and culinary bowls.

As the boiling water penetrated the silence below our chatting voices, the delicious smell of spaghetti was bouncing around the walls. Robert and Corbyn were too busy with the case to get out of his office, leaving me in the mercy of Maria's pleasant company.

"How did you meet?" She, firstly, questioned, eager to know a new romantic novella of the contemporary world before our discussion traveled in the most serious topic; the court.

"It's hard for him," She nods as I curl the spaghetti around my fork, gracefully, while the pesto salsa falls down the sides of my bite.

"I know it's. I can't even imagine what he's going through. It's just..." I pause. "Sometimes I wonder what I can do to help. I feel like I don't do enough."

"You do what you can do. You are there for him and support him when he needs it. Robert has the other job, the more practical one. That doesn't mean that your role isn't crucial though,"

"I just don't get what kind of parents would do something like that,"

"I knew them," She mutters softly and my eyes meet with her in a nanosecond.

"Really?" I mouth; my voice lost. I have never met his father, and of what I've heard, he seems like a monster.

"They were toxic for each other, not the ideal couple. And their children are paying the cost of it."

"You knew his father..." I don't ask or state as my tone is not stable, but, laced with uncertainty and doubt.

"He's a ruthless but smart businessman. He deals with his family as if it was a bankrupt corporation."