It was late. Too late. Too late to be over there, too late to walk home. All the buses had stopped hours earlier, and she hadn't left. It was far too late for her to be at his house watching movies, but neither of them said anything about it. She was fairly certain that he had arrived at the same conclusion she had, that the less said about it, the better. It was only a movie, true, but it was three in the morning, and they were alone. That in itself frightened her, because it is always frightening to experience something dreamt of, fantasized about, and longed for. In scenes in her mind she had played this part before, and knew how the scene ended, and the knowledge made her shiver with despair, with desire.
She tried to snap herself out of it, took a sip of water and focused back on the glowing screen and the film in front of her. The leading lady had just left her house and was walking towards her car, wind moving her skirt and leaving tendrils of hair streaming down her neck. Breathtaking. "Wow" she said to no one in particular "what I wouldn't give to have legs like that! That woman is infinitely doable."
"Negh" said her companion from the other side of the couch "her face looks odd, and besides, how could I notice her with you in the room?" He beamed with exalted pride in his own cheesy line, then braced for the inevitable smack and she grabbed the nearest pillow.
"Oh that's it!" she cried, smiling from ear to ear "I thought I learned you not to be such a smart ass last time, but clearly, I need to teach you again!" With that she flew across the couch and started wholloping him senseless with the cushion, giggling and flailing wildly as he impotently tried to escape her assault. But soon the battled had turned and he grabbed the pillow from her, his arm reaching around her back to get the other two behind her as a safety measure. It was only at this time did she notice how close they had come, breathless and glowing from laughter and mock fighting. His arm around her shoulder, her chest just inches away from her, their faces practically touching.
Instantaneously the laughter and smiling died, their innocence replaced by something far darker and more powerful. Sensing this too, he looked at her, his chest still rising and falling heavily from battle. Their eyes met, and something passed between them. Internally she felt a stab of pain as the last vestiges of propriety fled, leaving nothing else in the room to safe guard her from those eyes and the mounting energy pulling her ever closer to them. There was no turning back, no stopping what had been set in motion. As afraid as she was, her mind raced with every thought she had ever had, every day dream and fantasy, the way she imaged his lips would taste and his hair would smell. One staggered breath followed another, and the oppressive heat around them weighted her down, made it somehow impossible to move an inch. But she could still feel it, the connection, the lust between them, and the mounting longing between her legs became a physical torment.
He looked like he might hurt her, break her with his need, the expanse of his height and frame dwarfing her small body. His eyes burned and he radiated heat, and she was certain that if he chose to take her she would have little chance of stopping him. This thought terrified her, not by it's violence, but by how deeply she desired it. She wanted him on her, pressing tightly into her, dominating her and forcing himself upon her. She wanted to feel trapped beneath him, no recourse but to abandon herself to the helpless pleasure of it. But he didn't force her, didn't throw her down and take her. As gentle as a lamb, he lifted one hand to her face and brushed her cheek with his fingers, trembling as he did so. Her eyes closed, and a new, more horrible need overcame her. Not simply to be possessed by him, but to be loved by him as well.
She felt ashamed of her need, her lust, and of the terrifying intensity of it. His gentleness shamed her, his mute and self-conscious appeal to her, not for the raw carnality she had wanted, but for tenderness, made her flinch at the thought of her own base desires. Eyes still closed, a tear fell down her cheek and landed on his hand. The heated and frightening energy of the moment now dissipated, he brought her shaking form close to him and held her as a more tears fell. Neither said a word, he just wrapped his arms around her like a blanket and let her rest of his chest until the trembling stopped.
After a few minutes she looked up at him, sadness brimming from the deep brown of his eyes, lids heavy and exhausted. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly, curling in a little closer by way of an attempt at comforting him. "Um hmm" he lied, barely loud enough to be heard. "I've hurt him" she thought, her self-disgust mounting higher. "I can't bare the thought of it. I bring this upon him, time and again, and he still has it in him to worry about me, to take care of me, no matter what it costs him to do it. I'm so selfish! And I would have hurt him again tonight by giving in to my lust, by making something cheep out of this. God, why can't I do the right thing?"
The tension, the rising sensuality and longing now evaporated, they were left in the cold of the basement holding each other, separated by their own thoughts and worries. But she wouldn't let it end like that, she couldn't. He had given her so much and all she had offered was nothing. Looking up at him again, she met his eyes and let her gaze linger there. Looking into each other's stare, she reached up and touched his face much as he had done to hers, and rose slowly forward towards him.
He looked as though about to speak, but her hand cupped around his chin and brought their mouths closer together. Eyes closed, she leaned forward into his lips, pressing them with her own. There was no charge of electricity, no burning lust, just a warmth that spread from his flesh onto hers and traveled lazily down her spine and into every part of her. Wanting it to last, wanting it to heal all the hurt she had caused, she let the kiss continue, her lips making slow sipping motions at his, pulling the kiss deeper. His arms wrapped around her gently, but his hold upon her was forceful, strong. It felt safe and good. She let one hand caress his back while the other ran fingers through his hair, bringing herself even closer to him in the process. Her lips parted a little, barely at all, and his responded in kind, the warmth traveling through her amplifying into a heat that resembled the fiery lust that coursed through her earlier, but bore none of its terror or intensity. She was flushed with the warmth of his touch, his kiss, and her breath came slow and strong as the kiss deepened, taking in as much of each other in as they could.
