Gone

There wasn’t much left to say, besides soft pleasantries in a murmur that was barely audible. At first the idea was outrageous, exotic - maybe even forbidden in a sick and twisted way. He sat on the edge of the bed, not quite sure if he was going to slide back onto the warm sheets or bounce up and run. The other body in the room continued tugging on clothes without much protest. Eyes roamed his guest, flashes of what had transgressed only minutes before still fresh in his mind. Forbidden? How could this intense pleasure be wrong? In a conventional sense, their tryst was not altogether taboo. The insane idea of the who and why - that was the problem.

All the pretty words whispered against warm skin could not save this moment. It was the inevitable, mutual acknowledgement of what cannot happen again. But, he yearned for that feeling again. He debated the pros and cons of reaching across the bed, giving a soft silent touch that would convey more than any words could describe. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he hid behind the soft, ginger curls that fell perfectly into his eyes - refusing to move his gaze from his own hands in his lap. Hands that once showed such comfort and patience, sliding fingers through soft hair with the reckless abandon of a lovesick teenager. Those hands, guarded and expected to perform more than their intended use; bruised knuckles and scars that decorate the skin like badges of honor. He always wanted to experience the sheer bliss a hand can give another human being. Not in the gross, overly perverted sense of course. He longed for soft embraces, a simple caress, sending shivers throughout the body from the light brush of fingers. Oh, and the joy of his rough, calloused thumb gently tracing those full lips and watching them smile. It was intoxicating. How could it be wrong?

They shared intimate secrets, laughed at stupid jokes and completely disconnected from the world swirling outside the door. Was there a consequence for crossing enemy lines? He was tempted to find out, but that nagging voice in the back of his head always kicked him back down to Earth. No, it was impossible. Despite the modern times there was a lingering stigma throughout their large, yet very strict, circle. A sudden sting of emotion caught him by surprise, that all too familiar lump forming in his throat because his heart was battling his mind. They weren’t the same in those quiet moments together, it was something so real and solid and - and still, their bond was torn apart by endless choices. He wasn’t offended, not at all. It was ridiculous for either of them to expect the other to made a choice. The overall answer was obvious: cease desist, or risk exposure. It was simple logic to realize that eventually someone would slip up and everything would be discovered. That pain surged in him with every smile and every kiss. This could not last, and there was no other alternative. With a broken heart and broken spirit, he finally lifted his head to watch a piece of his world disappear out of the bedroom door.

"I think I have everything. I’ll text you when I get home. Bye, Claude."

His heart ached at the sound of his name. How could he possibly respond without breaking completely? It took a few staggering breaths before the words would form.

"No, don’t. We already discussed this. Have a safe trip back to Pittsburgh, Sid."

And he was gone.