“I’m in the bathroom,” she called, her voice quivering.
She was sitting in her bathtub with a pair of grey underwear and a white tank top on, popping some of the bubbles absently. Her eyes were red but she didn’t look like she’d been crying. I looked down at her, twirling the key in my hands.
“Get in,” she said looking up at me.
I stripped down to my underwear and t-shirt, tossing my bra and pants in the corner next to her clothes. She scooted to the side and turned to face me as I sat down on the other side. The water was almost unbearably hot, as it always was, and I took her hands in mine and we leaned out foreheads together. We had done ever since we came to the island, starting on the very first night we got off the boat. I can’t even remember how many times it had happened.
“What’s going to happen now?” she said quietly.
“We’ll get on as we always have,” I rubbed her hands with my thumbs. “We didn’t even know about that place before we came here. We spent months here without ever knowing about it. We’ll get on.”
She scratched her nose on the damp sleeve of her shirt, “But it was perfect.”
Prompt: a day, love Rating: PG13 Image credit:Felipe Bruner
I love you in the morning when the sun creeps in around the blinds and we roll closer together under the blanket, brushing fingers against skin and stealing time together as the alarm clock goes off behind us.
I love you when you chase me across the cold floor after a shower, the smell of coffee in the air and our movements still sluggish with sleep, and when you catch me you hands slide across my skin and wrap me closer.
I love you when I pick you up in the afternoon, running my lips against yours as you get into the car, the weight of work slowly lifting from our shoulders as you wrap your hand around mine.
I love you after dinner when we’re sitting in the kitchen, staring at the dishes in the sink and talking about the future as our drinks grow warmer and you spin one of my rings around my finger.
I love you when we’re sitting on our futon, me in your lap, and we’re quoting Firefly along with the episode and then suddenly you’re kissing me and your hands are on my waist and you are wrapping yourself around me saying “I love you.”
I love you as our eyes lock and I’m on the bed under you and your fingers are woven in my hair and I am dying small, little deaths with my love for you.
I love you at night when we’re curled together and I can feel your heart beating in my ear and you are soft and warm against my skin and the edges of “you” and “me” have ended and we are only us.
The sun is setting behind you when you tell me, the golds and reds and oranges all spilling out, reflected by the water and becoming a symphony of color. The purple sky surrounds the sunset and I look away from you and squint at the sand between my toes.
The wind, tinging the warm air with cool, brushed across my skin and threw my hair behind me. I nodded, looking out at the water behind you. The waves lapped at the edge of the sand; the tide was coming in and soon we both would be underwater, our lungs filling with salt.
“Did you hear me?”
I look up at you, finally seeing your face, and I nod.
The grandfather clock stared at me from across the room, pretending not to notice how late it was growing. I wrapped the blanket tighter around myself, closed my eyes and pressed my face into the pillow. I should be asleep, I knew. I should have been asleep hours ago, but I couldn’t. The smell of him lingered, the tightness of his arms and I still tasted him and the slickness of his mouth. I breathed him in through all of me, I let him soak into my skin.
I closed my eyes tightly against the clock, tightly against the outside world that didn’t, couldn’t understand the turmoil of my heart. He had left the island again, left again, going back to her and that life and I didn’t know if he would be coming back… and if he did, what he would be like. What we would be like. I squeezed my eyes tighter, the tears coming fast. There was an end date in sight–I knew that, I’d always known that, but I wasn’t ready to let him go, let him slip through my fingers like sand.
I feel your fingers tighten on my hips as you kiss my shoulder, the softness of your breath on my skin. The air trembles; the breathless moment between nothing and everything. I turn my head back and you kiss me, your heart beating against my back.
One.
Two.
Three.
I turn around and kiss you properly, closing the space between us and wrapping my arms around your neck. You breath from my lungs and I melt against you, slowly, slowly, softly and easily. You walk me backward to the bed, your mouth on my mouth, my neck, my shoulder–your hands ripping at the buttons of my shirt as you move me backwards.
I fall down and you fall down on top of me, clothes falling off the edge of the bed as we press skin against skin. I’d missed the softness of your skin and the hunger of your mouth and I moan as you touch me there, there, there…
It was nearly five am when I got out of the shower. I wrinkled my nose in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. Tasha, my Russian Blue, followed me into the kitchen where my Siamese, Suka, was playing with a peacock feather I’d hung in the kitchen window for them. I watched him jumping at it as I waited for my kettle to boil. My phone buzzed on the counter and I frowned.
Title: Sometimes we fuck up Rating: PG13 for language Image credit:mrhenrybemis
Sometimes we fuck up and sometimes we fuck up. You know the kind of fuck up I’m referring to; that sinking-stomach dry-mouth “oh shit” moment after you realize you’s done something selfishly stupid like drunk texted your ex or called someone a cunt on facebook, only to realize you still had them added. You don’t know what is about to happen but you know it certainly won’t be good… and you have no one to blame but yourself.
Sometimes we get off easy and the object of our error simply slaps us, blocks us, and/or charges a low late fee. We should be grateful for these easy penances, as more often than not we are sent to collections, slapped with a restraining order, and/or the offending error is sent to all of our mutual friends.
However, even if the negative reaction isn’t that harsh and even if we get off with simply a slap on the wrist, we know that we fucked up. It eats at us, no matter how far we try to push it back in our minds. It eats in silence back there and even when we think we’ve forgotten about it or gotten over it, it comes back. We see our ex across the room at a party and it immediately flashes into the front of our mind “OHSHITICALLEDHIMAFUCKINGUSELESSBASTARD”. Maybe we try to convince ourselves we were justified (“WELLHETOTALLYWAS”) but we never completely believe it.
Its hard to admit you fucked up, even to yourself. It’s hard to look at yourself in the mirror and say, “I fucked up. I cheated on my girlfriend and that was my fault” or “I should have never been such a fucking idiot on facebook.” Sometimes its even hard to look at yourself and think “I probably shouldn’t have let that guy at the bar buy me so many drinks last night.”
The thing is, when you finally look at yourself and think, “maybe I shouldn’t have done that”, things start to get better. You have to admit that you fucked up before you can forgive yourself for it. Then, those people you were terrified of suddenly start looking less scary until one day you could walk up to them and say “I’m sorry.” You probably won’t, you most likely won’t, but you could. And if you do? Maybe they’ll forgive you, maybe they won’t. Maybe you really fucked up and they aren’t ready to forgive you yet, and you know what? That’s okay.
In the end, its all okay. We live messy, beautiful lives and we fuck up and we hurt people and we get hurt. But you know what? In the end, it’ll be okay. You might go down as “that girl” who drunk texts her exs and calls them “horrible dickfaces” at three in the morning or “that guy” who got his electricity turned off during the party because he forgot to pay his bills. You know what? Whatever. Let it go. Take a nap, go walk in the woods, take your dog for a walk, fall in love, go hug a friend. Let it go.
Can you lie next to her And give her your heart, your heart As well as your body And can you lie next to her And confess your love, your love As well as your folly
Once, two, three, four. We clicked quickly and quietly, the transition as natural as waking up with my head on your arm and your breath on my neck. Going to sleep and waking up suddenly became anticipated cocoons of intimacy. Continue Reading →
Prompt: Storms Title: The unnecessary storm Rating: PG-13 Image credit: ( (( marS )) ), edit by Erin
I collected my things and I left the darkness as the whining wind called after me. I walked away, my head ducked to avoid the howling. But it followed at my heels, nipping and crying, and when I found shelter it swirled up, angry I had found a port, raging because I was dry and warm and no longer willing to accept the storm’s childish anger.
The storm raged around me, angry, growing harsher and harsher with its own self-importance. Its wind thrashed against the windows and hurled tree limbs at my roof. I waited inside, wrapped tight, warm and dry and waiting for the storm to pass. The unnecessary storm.
In time, the storm seemed to pass and dissipate; the wind died down and rays of sun began peeking in through the windows. I opened the doors and windows and the smell of grass after a rain wafted in, peace after a storm. I walked outside and my skin flushed from the sun. I thought, I hoped, that the storm was over.
The storm had run away from me, hiding, scared, afraid of seeing me warm and dry and safe. It hid behind the mountains, watching me, until it was too afraid to watch anymore. It watched me walk the paths, the beaches, the woods, and it raged. It hated it, it seethed in it… and then it ran away. It painted me transparent so it could pretend I didn’t exist; I vanished.
Prompt: letting go Rating: PG13 Image credit:Until_you
It’s strange, isn’t it? I didn’t ever think the day would come, but here I am. I let my mouth graze slowly across your jaw and down your neck. I press your wrists softly against the bed, firm but gentle, more gentle than you had ever held me. Who’d have ever thought I’d be doing this? Who would have ever thought that I would be touching you this gently, with you lying under me.
