her revelation (journal entries)

3/14/18

You cracked open the lid of something new.

And no, it wasn't the Malibu you impaired yourself with before I came over, either.

You got drunk off me.

You and I became two delicate whirlpools, swimming around for hours in a foggy, darkened room where both of our hair clung to the backs of our necks.

We were swimming, almost dancing around each other with hazey, curious eyes.

Even through the humid fog and the fruity clouds that left your lips, blue met brown.

I wanted to press my lips to yours, but we had an audience.

I'm sure that if we didn't, you would've wanted the same.

What were you thinking?

Your hungry eyes raked me over, taking in every dip and crevice of my curves when I occasionally had to remove myself from the heat.

You wanted to watch me undress when 3 am rolled around, but we all know sinners never survive the witching hour.

I was saved, because I watched you at 1.

Please tell me what you were thinking.

I knew you were dying to touch me, because before I had gotten back into my car to drive myself back home, you pressed your hand against the small of my back protectively and cooed:

"I'll see you later."