We Are Not Afraid Of The Dark

The silence was enough. It felt shallow. I lay stiff and topless half-draped on him in the dark. I thought about what he might have done earlier in the day. Ordinarily, he would have attended his lectures, but it rained. He hates the sadness that arrives with the rain. Did he imagine that he would be here with me tonight? I imagined being a thought that crossed his mind. How many seconds did the thought of me last? My body lifted with every breathe he took. Time passed slowly. We were in the only place this could have happened, his room. It was cold and empty save the mattress on the floor and desk by the bed. It was unexpected. The pillows smelled like the version of him that I knew, and after what had happened, it comforted me. Maybe the Lexo I know is in here somewhere, but surely not in the body of the man underneath me. Watching him sleep, it was hard to believe that a few moments ago he was pulling at my nipples with his teeth and clawing at my hair. I closed my eyes.

I got up to use the bathroom, and I knocked my knees on the large desk. It did not belong there, but neither did I. It hurt, but I was astonished that I felt pain. Somewhere in the process, I deluded myself into thinking that I existed outside my body. Once the doors closed, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. I was not afraid to be naked in an unfamiliar place. What bothered me was that my features remained the same.

I turned off the bathroom lights before heading back into the room. I looked at his resting form, and I remembered a time when our relationship was innocent and teasing, and uncomplicated by the disasters of intimacy. I took solace in the knowledge that when morning comes, when we are left without the veil of darkness, we will not remember the night so vividly. My fingers traced the surface of the desk lovingly as I ambled, it's not your fault you are here. I came to a stop at the head of the bed. “Lexo” I whispered, “take me home.”