"What are you thinking about?"
"Its weird, but I'm thinking about the last time I had sex with her.
I'm thinking about how she still smelled like rose and vanilla. Sweet and fragrant. How she tasted just as sweet against my tongue. How she gripped my hair so tight I thought she might rip my shit out. The sound of her calling my name. Kaylie Jane!"
Layne throws herself at me, pulling me to her room. I already know where this is going. "Layne---"
"Please," she raises herself, kissing my neck, "Fight paused. Please."
Fine. I pick her up, finding it easy to do. She's been losing weight. And I've been pretending not to notice.
We fall onto her bed and she pushes my coat off my shoulders, tossing it to the side. I let her lead, flipping us so that she's on top for the time being. I find myself trying to memorize every part of her. As if part of me knows that this time is different. Even in her urgency, I stay calm. Her lips meet mine again, soft and welcoming. I run my hands through her hair, my fingers getting tangled in the blonde locks. She pushes up on my t-shirt, kissing my belly, before pushing my shirt off entirely. She moves up, kissing my chest, where flesh meets my sports bra.
"Layne," I inhale as a curious, but cold, hand slides under the elastic band. She pulls this off as well, leaving me entirely topless. She kisses my chest, taking a nipple between her lips. I close my eyes, trying to hold on to the sensation of her tongue flicking over my areola. I let out a moan and she smiles at me, clearly satisfied with herself.
She kisses me again and I flip us, my hands memorizing her hips. Her waist. I pull off her tee, revealing she isn't wearing a bra. I stop for a moment, taking in each and every freckle she has. Every scar. Every birthmark. I take a mental snapshot, never wanting to let this moment go. She drapes her arms around me, pulling me back in, "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"
"Because you're beautiful," I chuckle, hating how cheesy I sound, "I can't help it."
She kisses me, "I love you..."
I kiss her, then her neck, her shoulder, her chest... I move lower and lower until I'm poised at her entrance. My tongue meets her sensitive bud and she lets out a moan. I repeat the action, going slowly, building the anticipation. But also, I just want to take my time.
As I work her up to a climax, her breathing intensifies.
"Fuck... Kaylie Jane." She moans out my name, gripping my braids, pulling me closer. I can't help teasing her, but I pick up the pace. Finally, Layne comes and I stop what I'm doing. I slide up to kiss her, our lips meeting in a her flavored 'hello.'
"I'm sorry," I murmur against her lips. I don't even have one thing in particular I'm apologizing for.
"I forgive you," she accepts my apology anyway. She kisses me again, taking my bottom lip between her teeth. We go again.
And again.
When we're done, we slide under the covers and she kisses my forehead, pulling me close. She murmurs something into my hair, but I can't hear it.
"What?"
"Don't worry about it," she replies.
We lay there for a while, in complete silence. She strokes my hair and I listen to her heartbeat go from a rapid race, falling down to a rhythmic thump.
"Don't you need to get ready for your date?"
"That's the last thing I said to her," I say, "I didn't know that would be a goodbye forever."
"We don't know if that's a goodbye for ever," my therapist, Dr. Taylor, tells me, "She could be okay, still."
I'm skeptical, "But what if that was our end?"
"But what if it wasn't?" she counters.
I nod.
Our session ends and I head out to my Aunt Violet's car. I feel heavy, weighted down by everything unsaid.
Like how, I kept it to myself that that's not the last moment between us. The screaming, the blood--- I kept all of that to myself too.
It's a piece of our story that I'm not ready to share. Actually- it's a piece of us, a piece of guilt, that I'll take with me to my grave.