Living in Sin (On Hold)

Twelve _ Despicable Me

Then she looked up, and what she did next ‘killed’ me. She pulled in her lips: not in that gross way but just enough to get them wet; and they pouted back out a tone pinkish-redder and parted like a rose bud would.  

If only I could describe it. To say that I was stunned by that would be the understatement of the century.

She was very lucky, as was I, that I didn’t jump her as she did that. All that was on my mind was how those lips felt against mine, how sweet she tasted and why the hell she had to be my sister!

“I, uh washed them.” I won’t lie. I didn’t know what I said when I said that. I was just … spellbound. This had happened to me only a few times before, but then guilt and conscience started to kick in. Here I was, having … indecent thoughts of her when all she wanted was, I don’ know, family?

I tried to, wanted to blame her for all this: for what was happening here. It was her who came into my life uninvited and then hurt me, in the literal sense, and I could think of a few more stupid reasons. But I knew deep inside that nothing I convinced myself of could justify my thoughts, much less my actions. And I began to despise myself as I looked at her, staring at me, cheeks flustered, incredulously.

How did we get here?

It took me a moment to register what I’d said, and even longer to think up something to follow that up.

“They were wet so, …”

F*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck. Panic chased the guilt away as I struggled for what to say next. Looking at the reddest shade of crimson that colored her features, I knew I had to say something, without her having to ask any further.

But man, I could think of none, no traditional ridiculous excuses, no stupid reasons, no expert explanations. Seconds ticked by as we stood there, her silently asking for an explanation and me coming up with none. And those were without any doubt the longest seconds of my life.

I knew if I were to get out of this, I needed something convincing. And to do that, I needed time. I quickly gathered my cool and walked past her to the dining table. I did that just to buy time, but that little move proved to be the wisest thing I’d done in the last six days ‘cause I finally found my ‘ridiculous excuse’.

 “That damn faucet broke.”

“Huh.” I saw through the corner of my eye that she hadn’t moved, only turned towards me.

“At first look, I thought you were drunk so I carried you to the bathroom and tried to clean you up. But I didn’t know that damn faucet was out of working condition. And next thing I knew, you were soaked.” My imaginary hand wiped the invisible sweat off of my forehead as words flowed.

“Oh.” I heard her mutter.

 “It was a miracle, I mean, a real surprise that you didn’t wake up.” I finally gathered enough guts to turn around on the stool to meet her gaze.

“I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry you had to do all that.”

“No, it’s okay.” I said, getting up again only seconds after sitting down. But I had to. I had to get away from here.

“I’ll give back your clothes once they are cleaned.”

I sat nothing but nodded to let her know that I heard her as I walked out the kitchen while she watched from behind. I probably heard her sigh but I couldn’t afford to care as I walked upstairs.

Phew, that was close, I thought, as I fell onto the bed face first.

But then the strangest thought occurred to me: there is no bath-tub in the guestroom bathroom.

Sh*t!

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