The Judge

1

The sun filtered down through the kitchen window, warming my cheek and shoulder as my hands worked at scrubbing out a pan in the sink. It was summer, the light in this room a visible testament to the start of a better time of year.

Winter was more often than not dark, sunless, and cold. I hated the cold. My whole body yearned for the warm sun of the summer, a time where colours popped out more vibrantly, the house cheerier, and the stifling heater was no longer necessary.

In a few more moments of working, I'd finished the very last of the dishes. Everything was neatly put away and the counters were washed, and finally, I felt I could go sit.

I knew where Arthur was. Working in his office, as always. We had had our lunch together a half hour previously. But now it was my turn to relax.

I passed by the stairs, continuing down the hallway that cornered them until I reached the brown wooden door. I opened it quietly and, as I had suspected, he was sitting on his sofa reading quietly. He didn't look up when I entered, didn't blink, didn't move. He knew I was there. But his only way of greeting was turning a page. I sighed contentedly. This was my favorite time of day. Favorite time of year, in fact, with the sunlight tumbling through the open curtains to leave this room feeling much less dreary then usual.

I moved to the sofa, sitting down beside him and taking a quick glance at the title of the book. It had to do with the law, as usual. That was his area of expertise. He was a judge for the states' court.

I, deciding not to bother him as he was focusing, pulled out a bag from under the couch. It was my own book bag. It had lots of old stories, from back before any of this was real. Back before girls were born and raised for men so humanity could make sure their population increased. Back before we had to stay inside for safety.

My favorite books were set in the country, on farms; about children who could go wherever they wanted. They ran through fields and breathed in clean air.

I had gotten about a quarter of the way through my book when I felt Arthur nudge me. I looked up at him with a tired smile.

"This book is positively dreadful. Let me look at you." He said. His eyes searched mine. I loved those eyes. They were dark, framed by black-rimmed glasses and salt and pepper eyebrows.

His face came closer to mine, and he kissed the base of my jaw, his face lingering. I felt his breath on my neck.

"Come on closer, love," He said, placing his hands on my waist to guide me towards his lap. From this moment on is when we barely spoke to one another, we just breathed, and we felt.

He kissed me again, this time on the mouth. He let it last, until his hands moved up from my waist, taking my t-shirt with it. He peeled it off in a swift movement, and it was on the floor. He kissed me further, and just as I did every time, a knot built up in my stomach. I love Arthur, but this bit always made me nervous. Always. It wasn't his fault. This feeling had essentially been ingrained into my subconscious.

But I gave in easily nonetheless.

Within moments, Arthur had taken me off the couch and we were instead on carpet. He had taken off his own shirt and kicked off his jeans, leaning into me. His warm breath trailed down from my jaw, to my neck, to my breast. He stopped there, nuzzling me with his nose. I released a fast breath, which had previously stayed pent up in the back of my throat.

After he spent a few moments there, he peeled off my own jeans and my underwear. They lay in the growing pile of shed clothes beside us.

His fingers found their way to my thigh, slowly moving upwards until he was touching me. I started breathing harder, holding air in my lungs and then releasing them in loud puffs.

Soon after, he had removed his underwear, and he positioned himself above me.

He looked at me with those dark eyes, just like he did every time. They were asking a question, to which I'd always know the answer. I nodded 'yes.' And just like that, he was within me. We were together.

His act of love went on for what seemed like hours. Of course, it was never really that long. Maybe only ten or twenty minutes. But finally, he began to slow; he made a low noise, and finished. I smiled at him as he collapsed by my side for awhile, both of us basking in the haze of it. He chuckled, just once, and he looked at me. Once he met my eyes, however, he frowned. I tried to look happy, like always. But he could see. 

"You didn't finish, did you?" He asked. I pursed my lips for a moment, not wanting to disappoint him. But still, I shook my head "no." 

"I'm sorry," He sighed, rolling onto his side so he could rest his fingers on my jaw. He gave me a deep kiss. 

"Maybe someday it'll happen." I said. But in my head, I privately doubted it. 

Arthur seemed just as doubtful about my answer as I. 

"Damn that school," he whispered, as he looked at me longingly. The inner corners of my eyes pricked, threatening tears, at those words. Yeah, damn that school. Damn that fear and those girls and those teachers. 

For a government, or world, for that matter, which mandated sex-- they didn't do a very good job at making it worthwhile. It made me feel almost useless.

Instead of speaking more, Arthur pulled himself up to a sitting position, resting his back against the arm of the couch. He pulled me into him, so that he could just sit and hold me. I knew he could see that I was in distress. 

And maybe he was right. Thousands of thoughts flitted through my head very quickly. I felt guilt, just imagining him feeling guilty about me; I knew he worried that he was just taking advantage. But he wasn't. I always wanted it. I just didn't know how to love it. 

The tears which had threatened to fall earlier began to fall down from my eyes, and I just sat in Arthur's arms for a bit, naked and numb. 

And in just that moment, clouds had formed outside, and had begun to pass over the sun, leaving our room a dull jumble of blue and grey hues.