Smother

After a few minutes of me crying like the weakling I am in the hallway, Leana is in front of me, crouching down. She puts her hands in my hair and pulls my head up to look at her. She sees the wetness on my face and presses her small soft hands against my face wiping the tears away.

She gets closer to me and presses her lips against mine; she makes me lay my legs flat and sits on my lap. Her hands go back up to my hair and she pulls me close to her. She smells a lot like weed, but at this moment I don’t care.

“I only want to be with you,” she says. “But, I don’t know how. I don’t want to tell you I’m yours and then slip right back into party mode.”

“All I ask is for you to try," I beg. "That’s it. I don’t want any promises made.”

She nods and then kisses me again. “Okay, we can try.”