the second time…

Reaching for her red and white striped T-shirt, she sat up on the familiar white sheets. She heard the door slam as he headed for the bathroom. This time she didn’t feel much. They hadn’t fallen asleep afterwards and she had become an after-thought as he said “I need to get to work”

This time there was no need for compliments. He had simply touched her as if she already belonged to him. As if he knew she wouldn’t resist. And she didn’t. Once his hand caressed the small of her back and he rolled her to her stomach, kissing her skin, commenting on how soft it was… even if she had wanted to resist, she knew she wouldn’t. But she didn’t want to. She wanted to stay in that moment forever. Where he found her pretty. Where she belonged to him. To anyone. Where she could act like, tomorrow, he would want to know how her day was, or take her out to the movies. She longed to stay in that moment, feeling so precious. So wanted.

This time there was no need for pretence. He didn’t even ask if she wanted anything to drink, didn’t kiss her before they said goodbye, made no half-baked promises to call.

Driving home she remembers the previous time. How she had wanted to throw up. How she had sworn never to enter his perfectly white room again.

Now she noted how she didn’t feel much.

She noted that she was, in fact, hungry. Taking her phone out she called her friend to make plans for lunch.

Advertisements

0 Responses to “the second time…”



  1. Lewer Kommentaar

Lewer kommentaar

Verskaf jou besonderhede hieronder of klik op 'n logo om in te teken:

WordPress.com Logo

Jy lewer kommentaar met jou rekening by WordPress.com. Log Out / Verander )

Twitter picture

Jy lewer kommentaar met jou rekening by Twitter. Log Out / Verander )

Facebook photo

Jy lewer kommentaar met jou rekening by Facebook. Log Out / Verander )

Google+ photo

Jy lewer kommentaar met jou rekening by Google+. Log Out / Verander )

Connecting to %s





%d bloggers like this: