Sequel: Another Sentimental Argument ›
Best Thing In Town
Thirteen.
Between hungry kisses on my mouth, Billie would look up at me through his eyelashes--bloodshot eyes and all--and tell me how beautiful I was. I nodded absent minded every time and then forced his lips back on to mine. We fumbled on top of the bed, some kisses landing where they were supposed to, and some landing off course. I gripped his shirt and tried to bring him impossibly closer to me. While he was kissing me, I had decided that I wanted all of him. And by the way he was kissing me, I could tell he had decided he wanted all of me a long time ago.
"Logan Marie..." He whimpered, barely audible as his teeth were grazing my inner thigh. And then at that moment, my breath caught in my throat and I felt my stomach lurch. He had remembered my middle name. He was completely trashed now, and completely trashed then when I told him. But he remembered. Something within him remembered. My eyes got warm and watery and I begged for him to kiss my mouth because I wanted to feel what my name felt like on his lips.
He broke away and looked at me. His hands were on either side of my head, lost somewhere in my hair. And I found that beautiful. The way he was towering over me, his bare stomach just barely grazing the top of mine. The way his collar bones stuck out and were highlighted by the shadows cast by the lamp in the corner. Then through chapped lips he whispered, "I may be drunk, but I know you're beautiful."
A tear slid down my temple and I ached for him to kiss me more.
It was now two in the morning, and Billie Joe had fallen asleep. His hand rested on top of mine as he laid there motionless next to me. I looked away from him, staring at his multiple beer cans across the floor. They were all empty. I felt guilt surge through my stomach as I gazed at my beer can from earlier sitting on the night stand. I don't drink.
Earlier, before I found Billie in the hallway, before I sat in Billie's lap, before I went in the spare bedroom with Billie, I had went to the bathroom. And filled the beer can with water. I filled it with water because I don't drink.
I was completely sober. And Billie was completely wasted. And I knew it the entire time.
"Logan Marie..." He whimpered, barely audible as his teeth were grazing my inner thigh. And then at that moment, my breath caught in my throat and I felt my stomach lurch. He had remembered my middle name. He was completely trashed now, and completely trashed then when I told him. But he remembered. Something within him remembered. My eyes got warm and watery and I begged for him to kiss my mouth because I wanted to feel what my name felt like on his lips.
He broke away and looked at me. His hands were on either side of my head, lost somewhere in my hair. And I found that beautiful. The way he was towering over me, his bare stomach just barely grazing the top of mine. The way his collar bones stuck out and were highlighted by the shadows cast by the lamp in the corner. Then through chapped lips he whispered, "I may be drunk, but I know you're beautiful."
A tear slid down my temple and I ached for him to kiss me more.
It was now two in the morning, and Billie Joe had fallen asleep. His hand rested on top of mine as he laid there motionless next to me. I looked away from him, staring at his multiple beer cans across the floor. They were all empty. I felt guilt surge through my stomach as I gazed at my beer can from earlier sitting on the night stand. I don't drink.
Earlier, before I found Billie in the hallway, before I sat in Billie's lap, before I went in the spare bedroom with Billie, I had went to the bathroom. And filled the beer can with water. I filled it with water because I don't drink.
I was completely sober. And Billie was completely wasted. And I knew it the entire time.