that night we sat close, too close. made stupid jokes that only we understood. I glowed under your praise, and your eyes sparkled when I caught you watching me. I played innocent (false modesty, you called it) but I knew from the first moment... maybe even before then.
everyone left and we were alone, limbs overlapping, fingers intertwined, words coming too fast, slurred and sloppy and the same. in bed you pulled me close and we talked like we used to. world domination, our dreams ripe for the picking, our futures laid open before us and intertwined like we used to imagine them before...
I think we've done enough talking, you said then, and my body awakened from its half dozing state just in time to catch your lips as they descended on mine. time slowed down and everything went quiet and an hour could have passed or a minute but we were breathing together and moving together and...
in the morning I left early, half eaten alive by the guilt of waking up beside you. barely mumbled a goodbye and you grunted, half asleep, in response. by last night I had made up my mind. the cards read "resisting the inevitable" and I'm tired of resisting. it's pointless, anyway.
last night it wasn't even a question, we stayed up all night talking again like we used to when we first met but better. less hesitant, more trusting. families and relationships and plans plans plans. we talked about sky, I cried and you knew exactly how to comfort without overwhelming. everything on the table, nothing withheld. when we started to fall asleep under the stars we moved inside and snuggled close together: your waist, my arm, my hip, your hand. murmured a few more words in the space between sleep and waking and succumbed to unconsciousness.
I slept better than I have in months.
this morning I stayed in bed, watching you dress with the dog cuddled up beside me. outside in the sunshine you smiled and shook your head. "how did you do it?" you asked, and I waited for the rest.
"make me like you."
everyone left and we were alone, limbs overlapping, fingers intertwined, words coming too fast, slurred and sloppy and the same. in bed you pulled me close and we talked like we used to. world domination, our dreams ripe for the picking, our futures laid open before us and intertwined like we used to imagine them before...
I think we've done enough talking, you said then, and my body awakened from its half dozing state just in time to catch your lips as they descended on mine. time slowed down and everything went quiet and an hour could have passed or a minute but we were breathing together and moving together and...
in the morning I left early, half eaten alive by the guilt of waking up beside you. barely mumbled a goodbye and you grunted, half asleep, in response. by last night I had made up my mind. the cards read "resisting the inevitable" and I'm tired of resisting. it's pointless, anyway.
last night it wasn't even a question, we stayed up all night talking again like we used to when we first met but better. less hesitant, more trusting. families and relationships and plans plans plans. we talked about sky, I cried and you knew exactly how to comfort without overwhelming. everything on the table, nothing withheld. when we started to fall asleep under the stars we moved inside and snuggled close together: your waist, my arm, my hip, your hand. murmured a few more words in the space between sleep and waking and succumbed to unconsciousness.
I slept better than I have in months.
this morning I stayed in bed, watching you dress with the dog cuddled up beside me. outside in the sunshine you smiled and shook your head. "how did you do it?" you asked, and I waited for the rest.
"make me like you."
