Milly: Second Chance

In the months following her failed first kiss, Milly threw herself into work. The Arts Centre demanded perfection from the creators it employed. The majority of her work included showing patrons around the gallery. She spoke about the art, bringing energy and enthusiasm. Unlike her peers, Milly wanted to learn what inspired such works. Showing a painting of eggs and bacon needed context for those ignorant of the artist in question. Her mother had starved for her art, so Milly could see the hunger this painter poured into each stroke. Viewers raised an eyebrow, questioning why they choose this frivolous and unstable career. Milly knew she would speak out of turn, but why would someone live unfulfilled? A stable job puts food on the table and keeps a roof, but where is the passion? There were grumbles and a disapproving look from her supervisor. Art was an expression of self, a reflection of human emotion. Milly wanted everyone to feel this for themselves.

Passing Hunter in the hall or waiting for the lift, Milly kept her head down. Scarlett spent more time with Eliza, so Milly was grateful to have company on her way to work. Hunter had attempted conversation, but her voice caught in her throat. She dropped her head as memories of her birthday flooded her mind. Having Scarlett there meant he would speak with her instead. Milly refused to tell Eliza and Scarlett what happened between her and Hunter. Knowing Eliza disliked Hunter made telling the truth harder. Eliza never outright said it, but both she and Scarlett felt he was not a good person.

Milly wanted to take back her actions, to have a second chance with Hunter. The opportunity presented itself in the form of a text. Eliza and Scarlett were going to the Romance Festival, which meant they would be home late. Hunter knocked on the door, greeting her with a thin smile, bearing no teeth. Milly stammered, hesitating to invite him in. He reclined on the sofa; at home in the apartment. Milly’s throat tightened as Hunter patted the space beside him.

She sat on the edge, inches from him, legs squeezed together and playing with her fingers. The silence felt unbearable; the voices from the street below were fleeting. His eyes drifted over her frame, lingering on her lips, breast, and thighs. Milly flinched as he reached for her hand, followed by an immediate apology. She stood breathless, a rambling continuation of how foolish she had been. Hunter took her hand, bringing her back to the sofa. He turned her face, and his lips to grazed hers. His tongue teased the inner rim, retracting and pressing his lips to hers. Each kiss was soft, a whisper of what he intended. Milly loosened her jaw, relaxing into the kiss as his tongue pressed deeper into her mouth.

Milly and Hunter poses

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