I'm under your spell...
“Oh my God,” is what I wake up to. “Ville? Oh God, did we?”
I mentally brace myself because I know this is going to hurt and open my eyes, nodding at your horrified face.
“We did? Oh God, Ville, oh God. I can’t remember anything. Did you like it? Did I like it? What does it mean?”
I hand you the answers I know you’re looking for, no matter how much it pains me to say them. “It means you were drunk and I was horny, Bam, nothing more, nothing less. It changes nothing, so don’t sweat it. We’re still best friends, right?”
Where has my dignity gone? It means everything to me!
But you’re worth more than my heart is, I guess. I want you in any way I’m allowed, and I’ll put away every bit of love I have for you if it gives me that.
Hey, wait a minute. Why is your face all hurt when I say that? Isn’t that what you wanted me to say?
Before I can focus on what that means, it’s gone, and you’re your happy-go-lucky self again, nodding with a smile. “Of course we are, Vil. I can’t imagine what would happen if we weren’t, but I promise you it would suck for both of us.”
I nod, laughing with you because I’m supposed to. “Damn right it would.”
“So…um, was it good?” You’re so shy and sweet that I want to kiss you again, but in the light of day, in the clarity of sobriety and sunlight, I can’t. And it hurts.
I smirk and ruffle your hair, bringing us back into the illusion of mere friendship. “Yeah, BamBam, it was amazing sex. You liked it, I liked it, we both came...it was more than good.”
You smile and nod at me a bit, rubbing your neck as you stand from the bed, probably going to find something to clean you up. “Awesome.”
I close my eyes and rub my face. “Yeah, it was,” I mumble so you can’t hear me, and you don’t. You’re busy humming as you wipe yourself down with a cloth, sharply inhaling when the mess won’t come off of certain parts of you.
You hobble back into the room, wincing with every step. “My ass hurts, man. Does that mean I’m the one who got fucked?”
I nod, standing and searching for wherever you threw my clothes. I don’t want to be here for much longer. I need to go to my hotel and have a nice, long cry.
“And before you complain, you were also the one who begged me for it until I agreed.”
You shrug. “So? You’re hot and I trust you; you’re one of the few people I would trust enough right off the bat to allow something like that.”
I smile and stand up to kiss your temple. It placates me a bit since I can’t kiss you anywhere else, and it makes you happy. You smile at me and get dressed yourself, handing me my shoes when you walk out to the living room. I don’t want to go in there.
“I’ll see you later, yeah, Bam?” I ask, tying my Chucks up and putting on my jacket.
You nod distractedly as you take your cell out of last night’s jeans and dial it. “Of course, dude. Late.”
“Bye,” I say with a wave, and then I’m gone, out of your bedroom, then the living room, then the hallway, then the hotel.
I get in a taxi and look up through the window at where you’re probably still standing, calling people in just your jeans and Adios.
“Bye,” I whisper, and pull away from the window, reaching into my jacket for a badly needed cigarette and lighting it. Maybe some nicotine will help at least a little bit of the heartbreak.
***
Foreshadowinggggggg...you see it, right? The "I'm so obvious" cliffie here? Leave me some love if you do. Or if you don't. Just leave me some 'cause I freaking love you? :)
I mentally brace myself because I know this is going to hurt and open my eyes, nodding at your horrified face.
“We did? Oh God, Ville, oh God. I can’t remember anything. Did you like it? Did I like it? What does it mean?”
I hand you the answers I know you’re looking for, no matter how much it pains me to say them. “It means you were drunk and I was horny, Bam, nothing more, nothing less. It changes nothing, so don’t sweat it. We’re still best friends, right?”
Where has my dignity gone? It means everything to me!
But you’re worth more than my heart is, I guess. I want you in any way I’m allowed, and I’ll put away every bit of love I have for you if it gives me that.
Hey, wait a minute. Why is your face all hurt when I say that? Isn’t that what you wanted me to say?
Before I can focus on what that means, it’s gone, and you’re your happy-go-lucky self again, nodding with a smile. “Of course we are, Vil. I can’t imagine what would happen if we weren’t, but I promise you it would suck for both of us.”
I nod, laughing with you because I’m supposed to. “Damn right it would.”
“So…um, was it good?” You’re so shy and sweet that I want to kiss you again, but in the light of day, in the clarity of sobriety and sunlight, I can’t. And it hurts.
I smirk and ruffle your hair, bringing us back into the illusion of mere friendship. “Yeah, BamBam, it was amazing sex. You liked it, I liked it, we both came...it was more than good.”
You smile and nod at me a bit, rubbing your neck as you stand from the bed, probably going to find something to clean you up. “Awesome.”
I close my eyes and rub my face. “Yeah, it was,” I mumble so you can’t hear me, and you don’t. You’re busy humming as you wipe yourself down with a cloth, sharply inhaling when the mess won’t come off of certain parts of you.
You hobble back into the room, wincing with every step. “My ass hurts, man. Does that mean I’m the one who got fucked?”
I nod, standing and searching for wherever you threw my clothes. I don’t want to be here for much longer. I need to go to my hotel and have a nice, long cry.
“And before you complain, you were also the one who begged me for it until I agreed.”
You shrug. “So? You’re hot and I trust you; you’re one of the few people I would trust enough right off the bat to allow something like that.”
I smile and stand up to kiss your temple. It placates me a bit since I can’t kiss you anywhere else, and it makes you happy. You smile at me and get dressed yourself, handing me my shoes when you walk out to the living room. I don’t want to go in there.
“I’ll see you later, yeah, Bam?” I ask, tying my Chucks up and putting on my jacket.
You nod distractedly as you take your cell out of last night’s jeans and dial it. “Of course, dude. Late.”
“Bye,” I say with a wave, and then I’m gone, out of your bedroom, then the living room, then the hallway, then the hotel.
I get in a taxi and look up through the window at where you’re probably still standing, calling people in just your jeans and Adios.
“Bye,” I whisper, and pull away from the window, reaching into my jacket for a badly needed cigarette and lighting it. Maybe some nicotine will help at least a little bit of the heartbreak.
***
Foreshadowinggggggg...you see it, right? The "I'm so obvious" cliffie here? Leave me some love if you do. Or if you don't. Just leave me some 'cause I freaking love you? :)