Balconial Conversations

84

I wake, slowly; aware only of the warmth plastered to my side, the enveloping darkness of the room, the soft, steady breaths that feathering my cheek. I lie on my back on top of the duvet, but a something warm is thrown across my chest, and a leg is entwined with one of mine.

I blink, reluctant to leave the dreamy drowsiness. I can see the outline of his head, tucked into my neck as he sleeps on his side. His arm, long and lanky, is laid across my chest, his hand just shy of my boob.

How did I get into this situation, again?

Even though he smells yummy and if I could see anything, he's look yummier, I squirm beneath his arm in attempt to move it. It might as well be made of iron, and I only succeed in moving his hand to... right... oh, great.

"Mmf," he mumbles against the skin of my shoulder. His other hand is near the pillow and he sleepily touches my hair. "Kat?"

"Yes?"

He raises his head slowly, groggily, and I can't feel his breath anymore. My skin feels cold where it was touching his. "Um..."

He moves his hand a fraction over the cotton of my shirt like he's confused. "Cam?"

He kind makes a strangled noise in his throat and removes it from my (bare beneath the t-shirt) chest. "Um," he laughs breathily. "Sorry. I don't remember falling asleep."

"It's... uh, fine." I cough, awkwardly, but it turns into a giggle and then we're both lying on our backs and laughing so hard the bed shakes. My stomach hurts by the time we're calm, we lie quietly.

I feel rather than see Cam lean up on his elbow. "Hey, Katherine?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"You're always thanking me. If I kissed you, you'd probably thank me."

A pause. "One, you're always helping me. Two, no I wouldn't."

"I think you would."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe."

"It's on you then, Katherine." He's as close as he was before, but it feels closer. I imagine I can feel his breath against my cheek.

I don't think. I don't rationalize. I prop myself up on my elbow, closer.

I lean. Closer.

His breath feathers my lips, and he inhales sharply like he's surprised. With my other hand I brush his shoulder, then his jaw. His body thrums with tension as I lean closer until our lips brush.

He's still. So still he's barely breathing. Our lips brush; once, twice.

"I'm not sure what you want me to do." He whispers so softly it's a breath. A pulse.

"Pretend," I murmur, and he leans into the kiss with a sigh of resignation and his mouth opens over mine.

***Pretend they're not them. Pretend they're two people who would work. Pretend he's allowed to do that. (If you were confused)

that format is all weird ugh sorry i'll fix later

ok, this IS a short story, as it is only 19, 000 some words. ok?