Bed Head
1/1
"Do I ever cross your mind when we're not together?"
"Often."
"Seriously."
"I'm being serious."
The covers shifted as she adjusted her position to face him directly.
"Because I think about you all the time."
"I miss you a lot, babe."
"Why?"
"Because I like being around you."
"But I need to be around you. And that's the difference."
She jabbed his chest with her pointer finger. He grabbed her hand, enveloping it in his and using a finger to create gentle stroke patterns on her soft skin. She was as smooth as porcelain, as warm as the most pleasant furnace. He longed to wrap himself inside her skin and melt into her body. They were lying on top of each other, face to face, but it was not close enough.
"Where will we be in ten years?"
He cringed. He hated that question.
"Answer me. You don't need to know. Just what do you think?"
"Um." He moved his free hand upward to stroke her hair gently. "Maybe back in New York."
"But I love California!"
He sighed, looking at the clock. It was late, and he wanted to sleep, but he also did not want to miss anything. She stood up, her naked body creating the most beautiful silhouette he had ever seen as she walked over to the blinds and pried them open just a bit more, letting the sunlight shine in.
The rays were unobtrusive, knowing that the two of them wanted to be left alone. The dust in the room took the opportunity to dance in them, to bask in their pastel warmth. Her skin shimmered with a thin coat of sweat as she found her place back in his arms. He pulled her in and kissed her on the top of her head.
"What can we even do?"
She paused to consider this.
"There's nothing."
Her conclusion shook him to the core. Their time was running out. The clocks and calendars mocked him with every single day.
"There's always something."
He was an optimist. He would find a way to stay with her. He did not know where his life was going, but he would eventually find out, and then he would find her. He would find her on a Tuesday night walking home from the hospital, shivering in her white lab coat. He would lay eyes on her and walk right up to her and kiss her right on her fucking mouth, putting everything he felt into unspoken terms.
"Don't throw away your life for me. I have to go to medical school. You need to do your own thing, too."
He watched her lips as they formed those words, gulping them down with a hardening realization that they lived separate lives and were separate people who wanted different things. The pale lilac petals of her lips were cracked.
"I won't. But my life might end up where you are."
"That would be lovely. I find you so pleasant."
She traced a finger-tip on his chest, outlining spirals and swirls that amounted to nothing. He watched her do this, feeling a hot trail left behind with each swipe she made. She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes. Don't go.
"I won't leave you."
She looked down, and he knew that she was crying. He did not move to help her or fix anything, because there was nothing to fix. Her heart was breaking, and he was watching it with a twisted anticipation, having known from the start that this would happen. Why two stupid humans would even bother to continue such a doomed relationship was beyond them both, and yet, there they were. And there they stayed.
He watched her hot tears roll off the tip of her nose and drop quietly onto his chest.
"Don't cry."
The words stumbled from his mouth clumsily and crashed onto his stomach. They were stupid words, and never meant to be spoken. They had no purpose, no right.
"I just love you."
He had never heard her say it before, but the truth had a way of coming out at four in the morning, under the covers, and with the sunlight hitting your heart at just the right angle.
"This is not the end."
"Oh shut the fuck up, it's no god damn beginning."
"But it's not an end either."
"It might be."
"It doesn't have to be."
"Often."
"Seriously."
"I'm being serious."
The covers shifted as she adjusted her position to face him directly.
"Because I think about you all the time."
"I miss you a lot, babe."
"Why?"
"Because I like being around you."
"But I need to be around you. And that's the difference."
She jabbed his chest with her pointer finger. He grabbed her hand, enveloping it in his and using a finger to create gentle stroke patterns on her soft skin. She was as smooth as porcelain, as warm as the most pleasant furnace. He longed to wrap himself inside her skin and melt into her body. They were lying on top of each other, face to face, but it was not close enough.
"Where will we be in ten years?"
He cringed. He hated that question.
"Answer me. You don't need to know. Just what do you think?"
"Um." He moved his free hand upward to stroke her hair gently. "Maybe back in New York."
"But I love California!"
He sighed, looking at the clock. It was late, and he wanted to sleep, but he also did not want to miss anything. She stood up, her naked body creating the most beautiful silhouette he had ever seen as she walked over to the blinds and pried them open just a bit more, letting the sunlight shine in.
The rays were unobtrusive, knowing that the two of them wanted to be left alone. The dust in the room took the opportunity to dance in them, to bask in their pastel warmth. Her skin shimmered with a thin coat of sweat as she found her place back in his arms. He pulled her in and kissed her on the top of her head.
"What can we even do?"
She paused to consider this.
"There's nothing."
Her conclusion shook him to the core. Their time was running out. The clocks and calendars mocked him with every single day.
"There's always something."
He was an optimist. He would find a way to stay with her. He did not know where his life was going, but he would eventually find out, and then he would find her. He would find her on a Tuesday night walking home from the hospital, shivering in her white lab coat. He would lay eyes on her and walk right up to her and kiss her right on her fucking mouth, putting everything he felt into unspoken terms.
"Don't throw away your life for me. I have to go to medical school. You need to do your own thing, too."
He watched her lips as they formed those words, gulping them down with a hardening realization that they lived separate lives and were separate people who wanted different things. The pale lilac petals of her lips were cracked.
"I won't. But my life might end up where you are."
"That would be lovely. I find you so pleasant."
She traced a finger-tip on his chest, outlining spirals and swirls that amounted to nothing. He watched her do this, feeling a hot trail left behind with each swipe she made. She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes. Don't go.
"I won't leave you."
She looked down, and he knew that she was crying. He did not move to help her or fix anything, because there was nothing to fix. Her heart was breaking, and he was watching it with a twisted anticipation, having known from the start that this would happen. Why two stupid humans would even bother to continue such a doomed relationship was beyond them both, and yet, there they were. And there they stayed.
He watched her hot tears roll off the tip of her nose and drop quietly onto his chest.
"Don't cry."
The words stumbled from his mouth clumsily and crashed onto his stomach. They were stupid words, and never meant to be spoken. They had no purpose, no right.
"I just love you."
He had never heard her say it before, but the truth had a way of coming out at four in the morning, under the covers, and with the sunlight hitting your heart at just the right angle.
"This is not the end."
"Oh shut the fuck up, it's no god damn beginning."
"But it's not an end either."
"It might be."
"It doesn't have to be."