sometimes conversations dance in the shadows of the unspoken, sometimes they dance in between the shadows, trying to be had, but surrounded by things left unsaid. sometimes they come to light.
“i can’t fuck you tonight,” she said. she pulled her legs up on the couch, ostensibly to create a distance between them, but her bare feet rested on the side of his thigh, her toes softly rubbing on the fabric of his shorts. she pulled a blanket over her even though it wasn’t cold. “not tonight,” she said. “not ever again.”
he passed her the weed, hoping to loosen her defenses and went on watching television. when she finished pulling, she said she needed to get into something more comfortable. she came out wearing nothing but a t-shirt and, when she sat down again, he slid his hand under the blanket , up her legs and noted that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “they were wet,” she said.
no, not tonight, he thought, looking at his watch—he had told his girlfriend that he was on his way and that was an hour ago. not tonight—but soon.
Tags: air conditioning, tmi
