Teal.
Vinegar Sweet.
My bedroom is something to be coveted. The only perk to moving into this crazy ass house was how different it was from our house in San Diego. Mom knew a guy who knew a guy who was building houses in the area that we were doomed (destined) to move to, and offered to give us a big discount if we bought a house that they’d finished the basic structure on but that the people had backed out on last second. My bedroom is a mixture of my creation, and things that my mom replaced with more “sensible” choices. My entire back wall is a mirror. It was my idea, but mom bought into it because she said it made the room like spacious. Like I need a bedroom the size of an Olympic swimming pool to look bigger than it already is. My bed and couch are built-in, which basically means that someone scooped big 3 foot deep circles out of my floor for me to fuck around in. My mattress is a custom circle that squeezed in perfectly, but always left haphazardly – and the same can be said for my table/desk/dining whatever it is. Right now Willow was half covered under my pillows and blankets, smoking another cigarette with her back pressed against one of the non existent sides of the bed.
I’ve never seen Willow scared before. Her lips are pressed in a thin line, and her eyes keep darting around the room surreptitiously. I wish that there was some way to convince her that there’s really nothing to be afraid of, but I’ve already tried everything I can think of and she still hasn’t calmed down. She opens her mouth to speak, but closes it before she can say anything. I want to ask her what she was going to say, but I don’t want to hear the answer. There’s nothing more frustrating than trying to calm someone down when that’s the last thing that they want. “You’ll be fine,” I reassure her anyways. She nods like a bobble head, and twists to the left. “I mean you might die…” she shoots me a glare, and I laugh. It’s a funny feeling, having the upper hand. “This is all your fault, anyways, Wills.”
She ashes on the carpet. “How do you figure?”
“You wanted to try thizz with me,” I reminded her, “and you lied and told me you’d done it before. If you would have been honest I would have only let you take one pill.”
A whine escapes her lips and she buries her face in a pillow resting on her knees. “Guahh.”
“You were muffled. What?” I tease.
A pillow soars past me, and my laugh vibrates through my chest. “I didn’t want you to make fun of me,” she admits. It’s the stupidest excuse that she could have come up with, which is how I know that its true. “If I die you can have m y ipod.” Her voice is muffled again, and I don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s hiding in her pillow again.
I’m torn between excitement and fear. I love ecstasy, but my ‘don’t thizz with Willow’ rule has a good reason for being scribbled into my notebook. Before the idea had even crossed my mind I had nixed it because it would create distinct problems that I just couldn’t deal with. Not when there’s so much else to worry about. What ifs jumble in my brain until I feel so overwhelmed the only thing I can think of doing is going outside. Everything feels better outside, and on my balcony I feel like I’m a thousand feet above my problems. No matter what happens tonight I’ll still have Willow. She won’t disappear because she’s Willow. Anything and everything that happens tonight is because of the drugs, or at the very least that’s what I’ll tell her. Please don’t leave me if I act like an idiot tonight.
She helps me set up the strobe lights and the black lights around the room, and when we turn the lights off it looks like a dance floor. A party for two. We sit across from each other on the bed for a while, breaking the glow sticks we bought from the dollar store on the way back to the house. She grabs two of them and shakes them fast in front of her face when I tell her about light shows, but she’s frowning a second later. “I still don’t feel anything,” she says, sighing.
“There’s a million reasons why, Will. We ate today, and we’ve been all sluggish and lazy all weekend,” I check my watch, “Plus we only took our pills like twenty minuets ago. They usually take a couple of hours to kick in.” But even as I say It I feel the familiar creep blanket my skin. My ears are humming, and even her breathing sounds beautiful. A couple more minuets, and I’ll be exactly where I’m terrified of being. I can tell that she feels it too because she stops fidgeting, and her hands go from picking at her nails to rubbing her fingers softly. A laugh catches in my throat, and I keep breaking the glow sticks. One by one. A makeshift rainbow for eyes shaking too bad to see clearly. “Do you feel it?” I ask, but the question is more to get her to talk than because I’m unsure. I’ve never seen her this quiet. Her fear radiates to my toes. I don’t want her to be upset when she should be happy.
“Shh,” She says, smiling. “I’m not upset. I’m scared, but… I feel good.” She licks her lips.
Just wait. Just wait. Just wait.
The music seems louder now than it did before, or maybe I’m just noticing it for the first time. It gets so easy to tune it out when there are more important things to listen to. Like Willow. She’s silent right now, but she’s playing with glow sticks, and sneaking quick smiles in my direction every now and then. I never noticed the way her neck curves towards her face, or how smooth her skin looks. Her eyes glint with the purple glow stick, and she grabs my hand, trying to pull me up even though she’s sitting down. When we finally get up she grabs onto me, her smile crushed into my chest. “Thank you,” She says, her voice so caught up in her sudden happiness that its wobbling. Or maybe it’s just me. “I feel so good. I feel… like dancing.” She’s already swaying with the music, and I can’t help but oblige her. We dance in silence punctuated with laughter for what feels like a second before she’s sighing, and reaching for one of the water bottles I made sure we had stocked up here. “I wish we could feel like this all the time.”
“I know! Its feels like… like I don’t know. Like really good.”
Her laughter makes my chest shake, and its only after I stop that I realize that I was laughing too. “You’re strange right now.” She finally says, still swaying with the music. Her voice sounds like a breathless whisper, and for a second I’m terrified that I’ve danced her to heat exhaustion. I pull her to me in a hasty attempt to make sure she’s okay, and she stumbles towards me. “Oops.” I don’t know how we ended up here, but were on the bed. The music is too loud, and Willow’s on top of me. Straddling my hips, while her hands brace themselves on my shoulders. I close my eyes, but her body heats still there. I can feel her, and I want her.I want the beautiful girl that’s sitting on top of me and moving her hips provocatively against me in rhythm with the music. For the first time it doesn’t feel like a painful reminder of what I’ll never have, because she’s right here and I do have her. She’s mine right now. She’s always mine. “I am yours,” She whispers in front of my face, and my heartbeat races when I realize that I’m talking out loud. “I’m always yours, Gabe. You come first, before everything. You know that.”
“I want you.” I don’t mean for it to come out a whine, but it does. Its unnecessary though, because I have the biggest hard on I’ve ever had, and I have more than thizz to thank for this situation that doesn’t seem awkward, but should. I try to shift away from her, but its no use. She has a smile that’s so positively sensual that my head starts to spin. She hasn’t stopped dancing in my lap either, but her warm fingers slip under the waistband of my jeans and she bends down so that her face is hovering above mine. Her breath is inexplicably cold against my skin. I’m so dizzy, and I’m so horny, and I’m so happy. It all feels like too much. Like a dream that’s too real for its own good. And I hope it’s a dream. I really really hope this is a dream because there’s no way I’ll be able to explain the whining noises I’m making or, my hitched breathing when we’re sober. No way I’ll get away with passing this raw want and need into simply drugs.
Willow kisses me, slow and soft. Her mouth tastes like cigarettes and sugar. Vinegar sweet. Her free hand holds her from falling on top of me, but that’s the only thing I want right now. She’s the most experienced kisser I’ve ever kissed. Its like being pained by a renown artist. When she pulls away, I know she’s going to kiss me again. I can see it in the strobe light darkness. “I want you too.”
I’ve never seen Willow scared before. Her lips are pressed in a thin line, and her eyes keep darting around the room surreptitiously. I wish that there was some way to convince her that there’s really nothing to be afraid of, but I’ve already tried everything I can think of and she still hasn’t calmed down. She opens her mouth to speak, but closes it before she can say anything. I want to ask her what she was going to say, but I don’t want to hear the answer. There’s nothing more frustrating than trying to calm someone down when that’s the last thing that they want. “You’ll be fine,” I reassure her anyways. She nods like a bobble head, and twists to the left. “I mean you might die…” she shoots me a glare, and I laugh. It’s a funny feeling, having the upper hand. “This is all your fault, anyways, Wills.”
She ashes on the carpet. “How do you figure?”
“You wanted to try thizz with me,” I reminded her, “and you lied and told me you’d done it before. If you would have been honest I would have only let you take one pill.”
A whine escapes her lips and she buries her face in a pillow resting on her knees. “Guahh.”
“You were muffled. What?” I tease.
A pillow soars past me, and my laugh vibrates through my chest. “I didn’t want you to make fun of me,” she admits. It’s the stupidest excuse that she could have come up with, which is how I know that its true. “If I die you can have m y ipod.” Her voice is muffled again, and I don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s hiding in her pillow again.
I’m torn between excitement and fear. I love ecstasy, but my ‘don’t thizz with Willow’ rule has a good reason for being scribbled into my notebook. Before the idea had even crossed my mind I had nixed it because it would create distinct problems that I just couldn’t deal with. Not when there’s so much else to worry about. What ifs jumble in my brain until I feel so overwhelmed the only thing I can think of doing is going outside. Everything feels better outside, and on my balcony I feel like I’m a thousand feet above my problems. No matter what happens tonight I’ll still have Willow. She won’t disappear because she’s Willow. Anything and everything that happens tonight is because of the drugs, or at the very least that’s what I’ll tell her. Please don’t leave me if I act like an idiot tonight.
She helps me set up the strobe lights and the black lights around the room, and when we turn the lights off it looks like a dance floor. A party for two. We sit across from each other on the bed for a while, breaking the glow sticks we bought from the dollar store on the way back to the house. She grabs two of them and shakes them fast in front of her face when I tell her about light shows, but she’s frowning a second later. “I still don’t feel anything,” she says, sighing.
“There’s a million reasons why, Will. We ate today, and we’ve been all sluggish and lazy all weekend,” I check my watch, “Plus we only took our pills like twenty minuets ago. They usually take a couple of hours to kick in.” But even as I say It I feel the familiar creep blanket my skin. My ears are humming, and even her breathing sounds beautiful. A couple more minuets, and I’ll be exactly where I’m terrified of being. I can tell that she feels it too because she stops fidgeting, and her hands go from picking at her nails to rubbing her fingers softly. A laugh catches in my throat, and I keep breaking the glow sticks. One by one. A makeshift rainbow for eyes shaking too bad to see clearly. “Do you feel it?” I ask, but the question is more to get her to talk than because I’m unsure. I’ve never seen her this quiet. Her fear radiates to my toes. I don’t want her to be upset when she should be happy.
“Shh,” She says, smiling. “I’m not upset. I’m scared, but… I feel good.” She licks her lips.
Just wait. Just wait. Just wait.
The music seems louder now than it did before, or maybe I’m just noticing it for the first time. It gets so easy to tune it out when there are more important things to listen to. Like Willow. She’s silent right now, but she’s playing with glow sticks, and sneaking quick smiles in my direction every now and then. I never noticed the way her neck curves towards her face, or how smooth her skin looks. Her eyes glint with the purple glow stick, and she grabs my hand, trying to pull me up even though she’s sitting down. When we finally get up she grabs onto me, her smile crushed into my chest. “Thank you,” She says, her voice so caught up in her sudden happiness that its wobbling. Or maybe it’s just me. “I feel so good. I feel… like dancing.” She’s already swaying with the music, and I can’t help but oblige her. We dance in silence punctuated with laughter for what feels like a second before she’s sighing, and reaching for one of the water bottles I made sure we had stocked up here. “I wish we could feel like this all the time.”
“I know! Its feels like… like I don’t know. Like really good.”
Her laughter makes my chest shake, and its only after I stop that I realize that I was laughing too. “You’re strange right now.” She finally says, still swaying with the music. Her voice sounds like a breathless whisper, and for a second I’m terrified that I’ve danced her to heat exhaustion. I pull her to me in a hasty attempt to make sure she’s okay, and she stumbles towards me. “Oops.” I don’t know how we ended up here, but were on the bed. The music is too loud, and Willow’s on top of me. Straddling my hips, while her hands brace themselves on my shoulders. I close my eyes, but her body heats still there. I can feel her, and I want her.I want the beautiful girl that’s sitting on top of me and moving her hips provocatively against me in rhythm with the music. For the first time it doesn’t feel like a painful reminder of what I’ll never have, because she’s right here and I do have her. She’s mine right now. She’s always mine. “I am yours,” She whispers in front of my face, and my heartbeat races when I realize that I’m talking out loud. “I’m always yours, Gabe. You come first, before everything. You know that.”
“I want you.” I don’t mean for it to come out a whine, but it does. Its unnecessary though, because I have the biggest hard on I’ve ever had, and I have more than thizz to thank for this situation that doesn’t seem awkward, but should. I try to shift away from her, but its no use. She has a smile that’s so positively sensual that my head starts to spin. She hasn’t stopped dancing in my lap either, but her warm fingers slip under the waistband of my jeans and she bends down so that her face is hovering above mine. Her breath is inexplicably cold against my skin. I’m so dizzy, and I’m so horny, and I’m so happy. It all feels like too much. Like a dream that’s too real for its own good. And I hope it’s a dream. I really really hope this is a dream because there’s no way I’ll be able to explain the whining noises I’m making or, my hitched breathing when we’re sober. No way I’ll get away with passing this raw want and need into simply drugs.
Willow kisses me, slow and soft. Her mouth tastes like cigarettes and sugar. Vinegar sweet. Her free hand holds her from falling on top of me, but that’s the only thing I want right now. She’s the most experienced kisser I’ve ever kissed. Its like being pained by a renown artist. When she pulls away, I know she’s going to kiss me again. I can see it in the strobe light darkness. “I want you too.”