The Illusion of Separation

We were lying together that night, I remember. It was just the two of us, of course, the way it had always been. We were never without each other if we could help it, almost as close as if one of us held something that the other couldn't live without, and even if we left each other, we'd eventually be drawn back together because we couldn't stand to be apart for too long. It surprised me how I could get that close to someone that I'd thought I'd only just be seeing as he passed me in the school hallway. I have to admit, at first it kind of scared me that I could be that close to him, but as time went on it became apparent that there wasn't any other way for us to co-exist without eventually crossing our paths, and when we did cross, we found that we'd rather stay bound to each other than just let each other go.

His hair was all falling in his face and across his forehead, which was one of my favorite ways to see it because it meant that he'd just done something exhausting, and it had been with me, and I was the one there to see it. It was just him and me, both of us under the covers, both of us breathing slightly hard, both of us completely naked. Post-sex was the best part of having sex because we would just lie there together and he would tell me how beautiful I was even if I didn't believe it. Of course, he didn't believe it when I told him how beautiful he was, either, and I knew he deserved it far more than I did.

He ran his fingers over the smooth plain of my shoulder, down my arm, letting his hot skin warm me. I had chills like you wouldn't believe, and most likely my body temperature was hot and I was just feeling cold as hell. It wasn't the sex because we'd had it before and nothing like this had happened. I honestly couldn't tell you what it was.

"It gets better every time," he whispered into the darkness, trusting his words would find their way to me.

"We've only done it three times," I pointed out. It wasn't to be rude or anything. This was just the way that we spoke to each other. He'd say something and I'd shoot it down. He and Carter were the only ones who really heard it, considering I didn't talk much to anyone else. Sure, I had other friends, but with them I was just as shy as I was at home, from years of being brought up that way and being told you weren't supposed to speak out, you should just do what people say and you better be damn happy about it.

He didn't say anything to that except, "Brummagem."

I considered. "Use it in a sentence."

"Okay." He let his hand slip down and cover my right breast, thumbing the nipple. "I'm really fucking glad that the condom we used wasn't a brummagem."

"That's not fair. How am I supposed to get the meaning out of that?"

"You can do it."

I tuned out the feeling of his hand on such an intimate place and racked my brain for what that had to mean. "Uhm...it's a noun, so it's an item of some sort. Uh...flimsy?" He shook his head. "Cheap? Poorly made?"

"Yup." He grinned, his teeth glinting in the light. "Have one for me?"

"Unfortunately, no. I haven't been looking through the dictionary of weird words lately," I said sarcastically, but leaned forward and pressed my mouth to his in a kiss so he wouldn't think I was pissed off or anything. "Go tell that one to Carter and see what he says. But don't use that sentence if he asks."

Chris laughed. "Yeah, right. Let me just write up a book detailing our sex life right now and send it off to him for Christmas."

"Well, he's certainly not writing his own."

"He'll get a girlfriend soon enough."

Carter was Chris's best friend. He was just as sweet as Chris, although Chris was more sweet in the romantic way and Carter was more of a person who made you comfortable around him immediately even if you'd never seen him before in your life. Carter was the kid you'd bring home to impress your parents. He had manners and charm and he knew how to use them. Chris had charm, too, but it was more for the girl he was dating at the time. Chris did what he wanted to when he wanted to, and although he did desperately try to impress the parents of past girlfriends and so on, he often miserably failed, which explained why he was so intent on getting my dad's approval even though it would never happen...and this time it wasn't even really his fault, considering how strict my dad was. It would help if Chris wasn't about to flunk out of school, though.

"You're pretty," Chris said abruptly.

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "Yeah, otherwise we probably wouldn't have just had sex."

"You can have sex with someone without thinking they're pretty," Chris pointed out, "and even without loving them." When he realized what he'd said, his eyes widened for just a second and he said, "Not that that's our case. You know that. I love you, Hannah."

"Nah, you're just repeating what you say every morning at the breakfast table."

Chris had a younger sister named Hannah, and when we'd found out we both had the same name Chris had thought it was the funniest thing in the world. He let the corner of his mouth turn up in a smile now, and said, "Yeah, well, I've never had sex with my sister. And I've never asked my sister to Homecoming. And I've never written songs for my sister."

"Yes, you have," I argued, lightly smacking his shoulder.

"...yeah, I have, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah," I said, smiling. "I do."

An hour later, he told me he had to leave. I'd rather have had Chris in my bed all night and wake up with him next to me in the morning, but that wasn't the way things could be with us. My dad was coming home really soon -- he'd gone out with some of his friends tonight which had been the main reason why Chris had been able to come over. We couldn't very well have sex with him in the house, too. That was way too dangerous. I sighed and wrapped my arms around myself as he opened the window and prepared to jump out.

"You'll come tomorrow, though?" I asked.

He thought about it. "Well, come to Carter's. I'll probably be there. I'll try to, anyway. Tomorrow afternoon, when you can pass it off as a trip to the mall or something. We'll see what we can do after that."

"Okay. You know I'm gonna miss you."

"You always do. And I'll miss you just as much." He brought me into his arms, kissing along my jawline and making his way up to my mouth. We stood there like that until I swore I heard my dad's truck pull into the driveway and pushed Chris away gently, giving him a hurry-up glance. He slid out the window fluidly, dropping the short distance to the ground from the first-story window, and blew me a kiss when he landed.

I blew him one back and waved as he darted off into the night, going back home where he'd be away from me the entire night.

Sighing, I went back to my bed and dressed in the pajamas Chris had slid off when he was insistent on loving me the way we'd only done twice before. They smelled like Chris, and I took comfort in that small fact. Mostly Chris smelled like pot, but it was a good smell and it had mixed just enough with my lotion and the scent from the woods and trees Chris had gone through to get here that you couldn't really tell it was pot. Besides, I'd wash the pajamas so my dad would never be able to tell.

I slipped under the covers, snuggling into them and pretending as desperately as I could that Chris was still there.