Stuck

My head was titled backwards, resting against Ian’s shoulder, while I stared at the dark sky, seeing the brilliant stars and watched them for the first time in years. I barely blinked, entranced by the tiny dots of light, keeping my thoughts at bay mostly, while I concentrated on seeing.

Yet I felt Ian’s warmth seeping into my back, I smelled his musky scent off the Hoody he had given me to wear so I wouldn’t get cold, and the old leather of the jacket he was now wearing. I heard the air escaping his lungs, when he let out a breath and I felt his warm hands wrapping themselves around my stomach, pressing my back close against his chest. And as I sensed his hands move momentarily, pulling the blanket up higher to keep the cold of the autumn night away, I heard his content sigh as I slid lower in my position, nestled in between his legs.

I closed my eyes, replaying the events that had taken place about half an hour ago, in my mind again. A content, barely visible smile played on my lips as I placed one of my hands over his that rested on my stomach again.

It hadn’t been utterly amazing nor fully satisfying as we had slept together. I had been with more experienced partners and some partners to which I had had a deeper connection, before. Ian couldn’t have lived up to my expectations and part of me was glad that he hadn’t. And though it hadn’t been the best sex ever, now, after sleeping with him, I felt better. There was a warm spark in my lower stomach, spreading warmth and comfortableness. This spark had gone missing without me noticing. And I had missed it on a subconscious level for a long time without noticing. And now I felt more at ease. With myself and the world. The rekindled flame allowed me to be at peace. Though the one who had been responsible for the rekindling intrigued me, making my thoughts reel in my head. And I had to speak up, opening my eyes and still staring at the sky rather than looking at him. It was easier.

“You seemed so surprised before.” I started softly, not wanting to disturb him. When I felt him shift, turn his head so that his warm breath fanned out against my cheek, I asked. “Why?”

He took a deep breath, his chest rising, pushing my body upwards as well, before slowly letting it out again. Deep in thought about how he should answer, his thumbs began to draw circles on my stomach, the movement recognizable under my palm. His voice was equally soft and quiet when he answered, though it wavered slightly.

“Well I didn’t think we would…. I thought we would make out or something like that.”

“Mhm.” I made, noticing the awkward note his words held, pondering its as well as their meaning for a while. He certainly wasn’t used to having sex on parties with someone virtually unknown. “But still you had condoms in your dad’s truck’s glove department.” I teased lightheartedly, receiving embarrassed silence.

“Yeah. I was just… prepared!” He defended himself, his cheeks flushing red. I smiled again before sobering slightly.

“We probably shouldn’t have, though.” I voiced my thoughts, receiving an answer instantly.

“What do you mean?” His voice sounded genuinely confused and a little bit offended, embarrassment dying down instantly. It was only after I wondered about the latter emotion that I noticed what I had said. I sighed, seeking a way out of this misunderstanding without actually having to explain.

“It’s not your fault.” I said, referring to his thoughts that he hadn’t been good in bed, before noticing once again that this wasn’t an appropriate answer. And he didn’t waste another second before pointing it out, slightly grinning at the irony.

“You know, when they use this phrase, usually they mean that it’s totally the other one.” He paused, his thumbs stopping as well before talking again. “And this time it would mean I’m the problem.”

“Yes.” I admitted still staring at the sky, but too absorbed in the matter at hand to really notice its beauty. “But it’s not like this. I feel… irritated at myself. Guilty.” I said slowly, trying to make sense of my own words. His arms around me tightened when I had stopped speaking, pressing me tighter against him.

“Don’t.” He mumbled into my tangled hair, before taking a deep breath through his nose. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his eyes closing. “It was… nice.” He continued quietly. “Nice because you’re not like the other girls here. You’re different. And pretty screwed up.” He smiled. And I felt the words that he hadn’t spoken resound in my head. You’re not perfect.

And I smiled as well, feeling utterly normal as I turned my head and kissed him softly on the lips. Normality. Such a simple word that expressed so many different notions and had so many contrary meanings. And I felt satisfied feeling normal. I had carved it. And Ian had evoked this feeling. I smiled broader, still pressing my lips to his, before I pulled away, whispering.

“You know. I think you’ve gone soft.”