Motion Sickness

"Kiss me."

She was desperation, all watered, bloodshot, and raw. Begging- perfect for taking. It sure as hell didn't make me not want to give her what she asked for but every molecule in me dared me NOT to. So I stretched, rubbed my eyes because for some reason I wanted to delay breaking her for as long as I could.

"could we not-" interrupting myself with a mock-yawn. "y'know, like do this right now? I'm tired."

Her eyebrows furrowed as if the concept was too outrageous to even register and I think she was crying but it was a bit too dark to tell. She curled into my side before moving to sit on top of me apparently not satisfied with my rejection and before I can object, her lips are on mine and before that, her breath is and it's all friction, smooth and light but heavy. My fingers graze the curve of her back but all they find are bones. It's all too easy to shift so that she's beneath me. I remind myself that I did try to stop her. I tried to stop her with my hands- wrapped around her wrists as I pinned her to the mattress and buried my face into her neck. Stopped her with my thigh pressed in between her legs. Stopped her moans with my lips. but-

"Fuck, I can't do this." I moved away a bit angry with myself. "I can't."

"Why not?" She hissed. "Why fucking not?"

I took a deep breath and realized there were no words for why not. None. "I told you. I'm tired. So stop being a whore long enough for me to sleep."