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End of the Night
He was frowning again, something that had become a regular routine in my presence, his body angled away from me. I took the time to run my eyes over his back, memorizing the harsh lines of muscles from too many morning swim practices. The muscles bulged and stretched over taut, caramel colored skin almost painfully as he leaned forward to press his head into his palms.
“You okay?”
I sounded little, weak, pathetic. A voice someone who’d done something they weren’t supposed to should have. He didn’t look back, or make any motion of acknowledgement. If anything, I seemed to stir him to reality.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
He moved swiftly, a shirt flying over his shoulders, boxers sliding up toned legs, jeans following. I stared; wide-eyed, gaping, breathless.
“Where are you going? Are you leaving?”
He noticed me then, turned around, and ran his eyes over me. Each inch of skin reviewed under his intense, brown-eyed stare made me burn white-hot. I scrambled to pull the sheets over me. Sheets that suddenly felt too thin, too rough, too sensitive. He only shook his head, and then he was gone.
Gone, gone, gone
And I was left there, confused, wanting, needing, and sore. He was just gone. Just like that, a mere memory to a night I could barely think about without blushing profusely. He was gone.
“You okay?”
I sounded little, weak, pathetic. A voice someone who’d done something they weren’t supposed to should have. He didn’t look back, or make any motion of acknowledgement. If anything, I seemed to stir him to reality.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
He moved swiftly, a shirt flying over his shoulders, boxers sliding up toned legs, jeans following. I stared; wide-eyed, gaping, breathless.
“Where are you going? Are you leaving?”
He noticed me then, turned around, and ran his eyes over me. Each inch of skin reviewed under his intense, brown-eyed stare made me burn white-hot. I scrambled to pull the sheets over me. Sheets that suddenly felt too thin, too rough, too sensitive. He only shook his head, and then he was gone.
Gone, gone, gone
And I was left there, confused, wanting, needing, and sore. He was just gone. Just like that, a mere memory to a night I could barely think about without blushing profusely. He was gone.