i silently look at his face, still against the blanket. he has fallen asleep, curled up against me. he looks much more peaceful like this, and the sound of the lake amplifies this serenity.
the stars are bright, and i have been tracing mars’s path across the sky, immersing myself in the constellations. i am avoiding my true feelings, buried deep beneath denial, despite all previous interactions. even the current state of affairs, cuddled against each other under the stars, legs entwined and fingers in hair, can’t force me to acknowledge the ever-growing warmth in my chest when i look at him.
there are many problems with the ache settled into my chest, the least of which being the ocean that separates our homes. he is a $1,000 trip away from me after this summer, something i cannot do. he is the type of boy my father would dislike, and the type of boy my mother would be wary of.
yet he has fallen asleep holding me after pressing kisses to my neck and hands. he has caressed my thighs and hips, traced the lines of my collar bones, and now he is pressed against me, one hand entangled in my hair, the other laced through my fingers.
the mood tonight is different. in the past, it has been about ***, about proving dominance over each other. but now. now it is vulnerable, soft and trusting. he isn’t pulling my hair to bite my throat and neck, but rather combing his fingers through my hair, and pressing gentle kisses to the nape of my neck, where it greets my spine.
this shift, this sudden flux in the existence and nature of our relationship, is what buries the hatchet into my aching heart. it can no longer be just flirting, just *** to me. we have shown each other our vulnerabilities, and there is no going back. i am in love, but i cannot speak for him. only hope.
its been a long time, friends. enjoy.