Silver Isn't a Real Color

Over the next few weeks, Victoria would randomly stop in just to say ‘hi’ to River and be out in a minute, two minutes top. But as the weeks went on, she came more and more often and stayed for longer periods of time. He was one of two employees there and the other had a bad habit of calling out sick fairly often. Victoria was there to keep him company when he did grow sick of all of this ‘quiet time’ he had on his hands. One day, she stayed until close.

“I’m going to be closing soon. You might want to go home, maybe.”

“Why would I go home? I’ve never closed with you before. I want to see what it’s like.” She sat with her legs crossed on a stool and squirmed like a young child.

“It’s not that interesting. I’m telling you.” He laughed.

“We’ll see.”

He scoffed and walked over to the door to change the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’. “Oh yes. Watch as I oh-so-excitingly put away these books, sweep, and leave.”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and picked up the broom. “I’ll help.”

After maybe an hour of cleaning and putting countless magazines, comic strips, books, and movies away, River proclaimed loudly, “Done!”

He flicked off the lights at the door and held it open with his foot. “Victoria?” he called. “Let’s go.”

After waiting for a few moments she appeared at the entrance and giggled, “I was making you something.”

“What?” he asked.

“You’ll see it tomorrow.” He grinned and locked the door with the large set of keys he had. “How do you know which key goes to which?” she questioned, baffled.

He shrugged and faced her. “You should be getting home. It’s dark and you know how creeps fill this city.”

“I’m not worried.” She smiled and latched onto his arm. “How ‘bout I walk you home?”

He looked down into her gray orbs and laughed. “That’s very gentlemen-like of you but—“

She pressed her index finger to her lips and spoke softly, “Shh. You have no say in this.”

“Fine. This way.” They began walking along the sidewalk and he started talking about random things he’d done throughout the day and the idiotic customers he’d dealt with. “You’d think that people who read often wouldn’t be so damn stupid.”

“You’d think,” she responded in an agreeing manner.

After a slight moment of perfect silence he breathed in deeply and said, “Well, this is my place.” He stopped in front of a beaten down, brick townhouse and walked up the steps. “You’ve been a gentleman all night, so let me be one and invite you inside,” he said with a sly grin.

Victoria’s face blushed lightly. “Sure.”

He turned on the light as they entered the cramped space which consisted of a mini-kitchen, a living room which doubled as a bedroom with the pull-out, unmade bed, and a hole in the wall which served as possibly the smallest bathroom ever created.

“Sorry, for the mess,” he mumbled as he scrambled to put away the bed.

“Don’t worry about it.” She plopped onto the bed as he was making it and said, “I could use a rest anyhow.”

He smirked and went into the kitchen and opened up the fridge. “Want something to drink?” he asked.

“Sure.”

He came back with two small glasses in each hand and a bottle awkwardly being held between his wrists. After he placed the bottle on the small table next to the bed he said, “One for the lady. One for me.” She took a sip and gagged. “Too strong?” he asked.

“One thing we’ve never talked about is age,” she laughed.

His eyes widened and he asked. “How old are you?”

“Let’s just say, I’m not old enough to drink.”

“Again. How old are you?”

She sighed and put the glass down on a wooden stand next to the pull-out sofa. “Promise me you won’t get mad.” He looked at her with eyes that demanded a number. “I’m sixteen.”

“Six— Sixteen?!” He stood up. “Do you know how much trouble a twenty-eight year old man can get in for inviting a sixteen year old girl into his home and giving her alcohol?!”

“”Wow. Twenty-eight. Your looks are quite deceiving as well.”

“Do I look like I’m joking with you? When I was a senior in high school, you were in kindergarten.”

“Well when you put it like that it sounds gross.”

“Stop. Joking.”

“River,” she pleaded and pulled him down to her by his arm. “No one has to know,” she whispered. She quickly grabbed the drink again and downed it. “Fill her up,” she stated.

“I am not refilling that drink.”

She pressed her mouth to his and grabbed the back of his head. When she pulled away she said, “You’re in too deep now.”

With his eyes closed he whispered, “I can’t believe you.”

She smiled, took the bottle and gulped it halfway down. “I can be as adult as you want me to be.” She kissed him again, this time with more connection. He began to kiss back with a built up frustration.

He couldn’t understand how such a young girl could have such womanly characteristics. A face free of acne, a bust the size of cantaloupes, a waist as thin as a dime, a sultry voice, a sensual walk. Something inside of him knew what he was doing was wrong but for some strange reason he didn’t feel guilt. If anything, he felt right for the first time in a very long time. He slowly and tenderly pulled her legs around him which caused her jean skirt to slide up her thighs and her heels slipped off with a small thud onto the covers. His hands explored her petite and ripe body; with one hand, he gently held the small of her back close to him and with the other, he ran his fingertips lightly through her auburn hair. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed in her ear, almost to tears.

“I want you to take me,” she responded in the same manner, except her eyes were already flowing. Carefully, as if she were as fragile as porcelain, he began to undress her. Soon enough, but all too soon, her bare body lay exposed to his fingertips. He pulled off what attire he had left and asked her if she wanted the lamp on or off. “I want to see you,” she replied.

Her face buried in the crook of his neck, she smelled his dark hair and bit down on his neck as he entered her. She didn’t make a sound for the first few minutes and just continued to bite until the pain she was feeling had ceased, turned into pleasure and the taste of copper danced in her mouth. His movements were slow as if to savor every inch of her; she groaned in ecstasy. They kissed and he spoke into her mouth, his tears dripping onto her face, “Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

She wiped his eyes. “You’re not.”