Petunia and the Little Monster

March 1974

Warm breath feathered across her face, her tingling lips, Eugene so close to her she could see his blown pupils, the black swallowing the tempered brown. "I missed you, Petals."

Me too, Petunia thought but just nodded instead of saying anything. She didn't trust her voice just yet.

They hadn't seen each other since last summer, more than six months ago, instead falling back into the familiar habit of exchanging letters. But it wasn't the same, especially now that Eugene was not simply a confidant or friend. She had missed seeing his face, hearing his voice, feeling his hands grasp her own, the smell of salt and wildness that always seemed to cling to him. Petunia got lost in the sensations, leaning forward - he was close, so close, her nose rubbed softly against his - and then the couch suddenly creaked a bit when Eugene shifted forward and the noise was like a slap against the back of Petunia's head, clearing the pleasant fog.

What was she doing?

They had kissed and he had manoeuvred her onto the couch (though Petunia still didn't recall how they had ended up here) and he had missed her and for God's sake, they were alone in the house!

She shouldn't do this, definitely not - Her eyes darted away from Eugene's lips - a bit chapped but she knew how good they felt against her own regardless, firm and warm, no don't think about it - and glued themselves to the first thing she saw over his shoulder.

"Want to watch telly?"

Her voice sounded only slightly hysterical.

Eugene leaned back and blinked at her. "What?"

"Do you want to watch some telly? I could brew us a cup of tea and -"

Eugene's thumb ghosted over Petunia's burning cheeks, making her words die off abruptly. He looked a mixture between confused and amused. "Alright. But what's a 'telly'?"

❀

Petunia hadn't expected her quick diversion to actually work. Especially not that well.

She eyed Eugene while he chuckled about something, lounging on the couch next to her, all his attention glued to the screen in front of them.

Should Petunia be worried? Eugene was much more invested in watching whatever program he got stuck on than trying to press her into the couch, after all.

Not that she necessarily wanted to be pressed into the couch, but an unreasonable part of her wanted him to want it.

That's stupid, she reprimanded herself. You were the one to panic -

Eugene suddenly sat up straight. "What's that?"

Petunia glanced at the screen. It was footage from the moon landing a few years ago, grainy pictures showing the first steps mankind had ever taken on the celestial body. "The Apollo moon landing. You didn't celebrate?"

Petunia still remembered it quite clearly, it was one of the few times she had been allowed to stay up late, the whole family waiting in front of the telly and cheering when the announcement came through. She hadn't even minded Lily's enthusiastic chatter all night, so excited by the news that it was actually a welcome backdrop to the event.

"I didn't know. So this is real? He's really on the moon? Our moon?"

"What other moon is there?"

Eugene ignored her snark, his face glowing, leaning forward to watch. And then he suddenly laughed, but there was a sharpness underneath his mirth, like the edge of a scalpel wrapped in silk.