Beautiful/Terrible

I woke up in Allen’s bed, muscles sore and stomach grumbling. The feeling of numbness from earlier was gone and I was left with a terrible aching that refused to go away. Withdrawal.
I looked around and found that nobody was in the room- Allen’s bedroom- but it was dark so people were probably home. To confirm my suspicions I went downstairs and I was right, I found Allen, Shirley, and Arthur sitting together on the couch, watching a comedy.
Shirley burst out into laughter, and Arthur followed suit, Allen groaning at their horrible adult humor. Usually they were pretty funny to talk to, but when it came to disgraceful TV shows they fell victim to the ever-prevalent “parent syndrome” that included corny jokes and fatherly one-liners.
I said hello and sat down on the cool leather couch. The leather gave me a chill as I was still only in my bra and underwear, and it was pressed up against my bare skin.
I understood that the situation was very presumptuous, me coming out of Allen’s bedroom undressed, and that Allen’s parents had probably already assumed that we had fucked. I don’t think we had? I wasn’t sure but I was indifferent to the situation anyhow, that wouldn’t be bothered and they wouldn’t bother us.
I kindly asked Arthur for a cigarette and he took one out of his pocket, offering me a light. I took it thankfully and hoped that it would help soothe my symptoms of withdrawal. It didn’t.
For the next hour I tried to watch the TV show with everybody but the severe pain coming from my muscles wasn’t allowing me to relax. By the constipated face Allen was making and the sweat beading on his brow I could tell he felt the same way.
At some point our symptoms must have become apparent to Shirley and Arthur because Arthur turned to me and said, “So what drug was it?”
The jig was up
“Opium,” Allen said through a nasally voice, jaw clenched in minor agony.
“Oh dear,” Shirley said, obviously concerned about our withdrawal, “What are we going to tell your parents, Leda?”
“I’ll text them and tell them I’m staying at Lexi’s house for a Health project.”
It seemed like everyone agreed to the idea.
“What about school? You obviously can’t go tomorrow and they’ll call your home,” Shirley reminded us.
“I’ve got it covered,” I said, “I paid this guy to hack into the school system for me. Now the phone number they have on file is my cell, so all the calls go to me instead.”
“Good, then it’s settled. You’ll stay here until this passes,” Shirley concluded, and Arthur clapped me on the back in agreement.
“For now, though, it’s three o’clock in the morning and you should get some sleep,” Arthur chimed in.
I hadn’t realized I had slept that long, though I suppose I would have had to to wake up with symptoms already. Allen took my clammy hand in his dripping one and led me upstairs into his bedroom. He opened the window wide to let in a breeze which barely helped. I was still profusely sweating. He ripped the blankets off his bed and kicked them in the corner of his room. He then took my hand again and sat me on his lap.
His fingers traced down the slick curves of my side, tracing the outline from my armpit to my hip before roughly grabbing me by the waist and pulling me up against him. I shivered. He whispered in my ear, “Sleep, love.”
He leaned back on his bed, me still positioned on top of him. I rolled over to curl up next to him, but couldn’t fall asleep. Instead, I dragged my fingers along the dips of his ribs for hours as they expanded and retracted, in beautiful expedition of the senses.
It was horrible.
The whole night I sweat and it felt gross, my muscles ached something precious, and I couldn’t fall asleep to let it pass. Instead, I was condemned to suffer through it.
I watched the sun come up and felt nothing, only my sore muscles, unused to a world without the numbness of the high. I turned my head to look at Allen, his miraculously sleeping form.
He had a skinny but slightly muscular build, pale and dotted with dark freckles from time to time. I could see where muscle met muscle and where vein branched into vein. I could see where bone attached to bone at the elbow, the knee. It was fascinating and then my thoughts were torn by a grumble in my stomach. I still hadn’t eaten anything since the apple at lunch yesterday.
I crept downstairs, not wanting to wake Allen.
His parents had already left for work, it was a Tuesday after all.
I went into the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of cereal, munching on it slowly. I thought of how it was probably bad that I wouldn’t be taking my medications this morning, but I shrugged off the thought.
I remembered to text Lexi the cover story at that moment, and so I did.
A few minutes later she responded, telling me that that was cool and to “have fun with Allen ;)” I wasn’t sure how much fun I would be having for the next few days, but then again there was always a way I could fix that to fall back on. I would wait for Allen to wake up first, though.
I finished my cereal just as I heard movement come from upstairs. A few moments later Allen appeared in the room and greeted me good morning.
“Slept well?” he asked me.
“Not at all,” I said.
“When withdrawal gets you down…” Allen pulled something out of his pocket, “get down on withdrawal.” In his hand were more poppy pods.
“Sweet, you read my mind, dude,” I told him.
We repeated the same steps as yesterday and before we knew it we were both completely naked and laying on our backs on the roof.
The sky was a beautiful scene, all different shades of grey, all building together to create dimension after dimension. I felt the clouds, the mist, brush up against my dewy skin and it felt like heaven was fingering me.
It felt like I wasn’t even in my body, I was a part of the mist, floating around aimlessly and staring down on my empty shell of a body. Next to me laid Allen, and his body was a shell, too, and as we both floated in the clouds I felt our hands clasp and we danced. The roof and the air joined and my mind and my body intertwined just like our interlocking fingers.
I smiled and closed my eyes, breathing in the mist. The clouds.
I looked down on my own slender body, so pale like those clouds, bright up in the sky.
I looked at how the curving silhouette of my breasts mirrored the curve of my ribs, and how my hips protruded like small mountains, a valley of lower abdomen in between. I could even see my pelvic bone rise up in the middle. I could see my belly button laying in the center of the matter, drawing in the skin, capturing it in its lair.
I ran my hand across the rough surface of the roof. I smiled. It felt like sandpaper as I dragged my hand limply across its face. I picked at the edge of the shingle, feeling its crevices and ridges. Ridges.
I smiled and closed my eyes.
Time flew over me like the clouds and I felt Allen’s presence next to me. He wasn’t a dead body, he was full of life. Life that would soon end, decidedly.
I stood.
I heard a grumble from Allen as he tried to tap my ankle and signal for me to lay back down.
“No,” I said, “Let’s just jump right now.”
“No,” Allen said.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m enjoying our place in the scenery right now. Why warp what is perfect at this moment?”
I understood what he was saying, but still dared to walk to the edge of the roof. I ran my big toe along the refined and slightly sharp edge of the gutter, testing the limits of my stability. I faltered for a moment and I felt the weight of my leg swing over the edge before I felt a large hand clasp around my wrist and pull me in.
“Thanks,” I breathed out, ribs heaving in and out.
I felt Allen’s eyes pass over my own naked ribs and then he told me, “Your welcome, darling.”
We walked like that, hand in hand, back to Allen’s bedroom window, which protruded out and looked onto the roof. We climbed in and I laid down on the Persian rug that lay centerfold in his room. Many more rugs; Persian, Chinese, Indian, Armenian; they all were strewn across the floor and walls. African and Indian curtains lined his windows and made a canopy over his bed. I bet it was awesome to do LSD in here.
Allen flopped onto his bed and I watched him play with his curtains. I stood up and slinked over to him, sensually swaying to the music that played in the background- Where Have You Been by Manchester Orchestra. I felt mysterious and sexy, shrouded by a veil of semi-transparent curtains between us. I tenderly reached out and grazed them, cloaking my hand in them.
Allen reached out to touch me through the curtains, and I sucked in my stomach to get away from the outstretched hand. His hand pursued me and lain flat against the contours of my abdomen.
We stayed there for a while and I smiled contentedly.
Slowly I made my way through the curtains and straddled him. He kissed my stomach and ribs and chest and neck.
Nothing progressed as it was out of affection, not lust. I turned around and sat on his lap and he leaned back on the silky pillows. He played with my hair and everything was right in the world, or at least that’s how Allen made me feel.
I smiled and closed my eyes. Smiled. Eyes. Allen. Perfection. Here. Persian rug. Smiled.