I’ve (re)written this while listening to Explosion in the Sky’s “Your Hand in Mine”. You could listen to it while you read.
“I could-”
“Yes,” she said, “come.”
^~***~^
For twenty-five minutes she fidgeted, paced, and cleaned. Until the sound of her doorbell. He’d come…
She tried not to rush to the door, because she didn’t want to be out of breath when she’d open it for him. She was making herself impatient walking down the stairs like that, taking measured steps.
Inhaling deeply and slowly exhaling, she opened the door to find him standing there, seemingly slightly out of breath as well. He smiled the smile, slightly crooked, corners of his eyes crinkling and the blues in his eyes twinkling.
“Hey,” he said, looking down at her.
“Hey,” she said, shuffling her feet, “come in.”
She waved her hand back and forth to usher him inside, feeling like a complete idiot. This situation was stupid, reckless, dangerous and exciting.
“It’s been too long,” he griped and she laughed, jokingly jabbing her elbow into his side. He looked down at her again and she felt like the time-space continuum shifted to make room for all the consequences that this decision would have.
She pointed at the couch and he sat down. She poured him some lemonade and handed him the glass, putting hers on the table and sitting herself down next to him.
He took a sip and she almost laughed at their rigid postures. This really was ridiculous. So, she looked up at him, and waited for him to look down at her again. When he did, she held his gaze while slowly lifting her right hand, as if he was a skittish horse she was afraid of scaring away. When the tips of her fingers touched his cheek, he briefly closed his eyes. She slid her fingertips across his cheek, his temple, his forehead, his cheek again, and his chin. When her fingers touched his neck, his hand was up in the air with her face as its destination. He started caressing her cheek with the back of his hand before slowly and slightly ducking his head to bring his lips level with hers.
“I could-”
“Yes,” she said.
^~***~^
There he finally was under her. She wouldn’t have thought they would get themselves into this position; it was dangerous, destructive.
She uncurled her arm as if in slow-motion. He monitored her movements carefully. Her open hand was suspended mid-air, floating over the invisible bubble encasing him. As if to caress this bubble she moved her hand over and across until she noticed that it was just a few movements short of touching his chest.
For months now she had been chastising herself over the fact that she was silently crushing on someone to the point of admitting to herself to being emotionally unfaithful. She had tried avoidance, rebellion, and even acceptance. Still, she let it come to this: her hand on his chest. She curled her fingers into his t-shirt, squeezing the fabric, feeling it tighten in her hand with every one of his breaths. Rubbing the cotton over his chest, she watched him watching her intently.
“I don’t know about this,” she told him. Despite the position she was in, she still thought it best to be honest.
“Me neither,” he said. “I don’t want to make a mistake, but what would be the mistake here?” he questioned as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She hung her head until her forehead was touching his sternum. She had always thought cheating people had all been caught in the moment, like one minute they’re walking down the street and the next they find themselves in a heated embrace. It was nothing like that for them. Everything they did appeared deliberate and well-thought out.
He nudged her head up with his shoulder and stared at her for a moment before he said, “you’re not a mistake, though. I just can’t say no anymore. Before, when I had a moment of weakness, you were strong and when I’d feel you were wavering I stood my ground. I can’t do it anymore.”
“I can’t either now. I’m sorry,” she said. Talking to him like this made her feel like they were already naked, even though they weren’t.
“I’m sorry, too. It’ll probably end badly, but I don’t want to think about that right now. If we’re really going to do this, I want to enjoy it and savour every moment.”
“I want to know what you feel like,” she said, running her nose up his jaw, “everywhere,” she added in his ear.
At that he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. It felt really safe and nice. He held her in a way she’d never been held before. Suddenly his hands were under her t-shirt on the skin of her lower back, his fingers splayed out like he was trying to cover all of her. He was so big, making her feel small but very significant.
“Everywhere,” he acquiesced into her hair, before his hands were roaming upwards; she felt them hitch slightly when he reached her bra. All the while she was looking at his face, from his eyes to his lips and back up again. She wanted to kiss him so badly then, but she was scared.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s really stupid and kind of embarrassing to talk about.”
“You’re lying on top of me and you’re worried about being embarrassed?”
She had to smile at that, because he was right.
“We haven’t really done anything, yet here I am-”
She shook her head, because he didn’t have to continue. She could feel it.
“Here’s the thing,” she said, “I have only ever kissed one person, and I’m not sure if I’m any good at it.”
It was his turn to smile.
“For what it’s worth: I have only ever kissed one person, too. I never got any complaints about it, though. Did you?”
“No, none.”
“Well, then I doubt you’d be bad at it. You want me to tell you if you suck at it?”
“Yes. Well, no. I don’t-”
Then his lips were on hers and it was just their lips touching, and his eyes were open, looking directly into hers, challenging her. She didn’t know where she’d heard it, but supposedly people who kiss with their eyes open are untrustworthy. She guessed he was, in a way. She briefly wondered if she could trust him.
“Do it,” he whispered against her mouth.
“Close your eyes,” she said.
When he had them closed, she watched his mouth for a moment, deciding on a strategy. She could kiss him the way he’d just kissed her, or she could kiss him the way she’d really wanted to for so long.
“Don’t make me wait any longer,” he said with his eyes still closed.
She swept her flat tongue over his lips and he laughed.
“Okay, you’re right. You’re a terrible kisser,” he said. He poked her in the ribs and put her momentary distractedness to good use by swiping his own tongue over her lips. She was quick to react and his hands flew to her neck to hold her there and the kiss quickly turned heated.
She tried to remain aware of his lips, his tongue and his teeth, but very soon everything blurred into one thing: him. She even lost track of where his hands were at a certain point, and hers were everywhere.
^~***~^
They were lying in bed in companionable silence. She was on her stomach; he was next to her on his back. They were holding hands.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “I would do anything in my power to make sure you’re happy.”
“No, you don’t get it,” she replied. “I’m not easily happy. So sometimes trying to make me happy can make you unhappy. It’s complex.”
He squeezed her hand. “I don’t care.”
Entwining the fingers of their hands he lifted them off the mattress and above their heads. He looked at them, smiling softly.
“You might not care,” she said, “but I do. It could break you, trying to make me happy. Only the thought of you risking that for me depresses me.”
He brought their joined hands to his lips, twisted them around, and whispered against her knuckles, “what is it that I can do then?”
She turned her head to look at him, trying her best not to cry. “The only thing you can do is be happy and be yourself. I think I need help.”
“I’m offering you-”
“Professional help,” she cut him off.
Closing his eyes, he kissed the back of her hand, sliding his lips over it repeatedly.
“It’s not healthy, the way I am. I poison the people around me.”
“No, you don’t. I think it’s really brave and smart of you to admit you need help. I don’t want you to shut me out though.”
By pulling on her arm he rolled her on top of him. He smiled that smile she had fallen in love with and made her weak in the knees. It was a good thing she was lying down.
“Kiss me,” he said. There was nothing in the world she wanted to do more.
