never happened…

Becoming aware of the fact that she was cold, she carefully reached for her button-up checkered blouse with one arm. Throwing it across her naked shoulders she noticed her hand was trembling slightly. This was both amusing and a relief, and she found herself thinking that this might mean that she actually had a conscience. Or it could be the mixture of not having eaten today and the sudden rush of adrenaline. She carefully put her arm back over his bare chest. He had begun snoring slightly. She would not be the one to break the news to him. She closed her eyes and tried to make sense of what had just happened. She felt that she should be both less and more freaked out. She stared at the stark white bedding in the clinically neat room. Then at his chest heaving up and down. She lifted her hand again. She was still trembling slightly.

Later, as she was buttoning up her shirt, she marvelled at how this feels different than it must look. She remembered seeing this in movies. Usually the camera took a bird-eye view of the girl. She noticed the dramatic drop in affection once he woke up. She thought about the fact that she was hungry and how natural this felt. What freaked her out probably the most, is how easily she had slipped into this role. How the natural progression from the moment they met to this moment seemed almost seamless. No. What scared her the most, is that she would get home and smile as usual. That no one would ever believe this of her. That, by tonight, she would be able to pretend to herself that this had never happened.

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