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He clears his throat and I tear my eyes away, ashamed that he caught me staring. At his ankle, no less, like some Victorian era creep.
“Here, you mean, right?” I clarify. “You want to spend some time together here?” “Here, my place, wherever. You’re the important part in that equation, not the location.”
I do not want to be around anyone else right now; I want to go to Corwin’s house, put on sweats and listen to him speak bad French; I want to kiss him.
“We could just order a pizza, if you didn’t want to go through the trouble.” He looks offended. “If you want pizza, I’ll just make one.”
It feels cozy, and safe, and I wish I was brave enough to ask him to stay.
A different sort of intimacy than what we had been doing before, but perhaps a more meaningful one; he trusts me enough to let me sleep here, and that’s not nothing.
He adjusts his head on the pillow, bringing his face closer to mine. Probably I should kiss him; I don’t know what he tastes like in the morning, and it’s important I find out.
He’s so perfect it’s hard to look at. The kind of beautiful that hurts.
“You’re happy?” “Yes.” Is happy the right word? It’s one word, certainly, but not enough. I’m elated. Over the fucking moon. Nobody in the world is as fortunate as I am. “Yeah, I’m really happy.”
“I came into this relationship wanting nothing more than you, however I could have you. The only thing that would make me unhappy in bed is if you weren’t in it.”
