chasing an illusion - pipabeth

15- only aches

there's a knock on my door. i open it and it's piper.

"oh. you're here."

"no need to sound disappointed." she teases. "i hope it's not a bad time."

"it's not." i assure her. i let her in. i pull my hair down from the bun it's in. she wanders wordlessly, exploring my apartment as though she had never seen it before. she enters my bedroom where i keep my books. i follow her in and lean on the doorframe. "did you need something or are you just here because?"

"i missed you. it's painfully lonely back at my place." she said, absentmindedly studying the books i had on my shelf. she runs her fingers along the spines. she turns back to look at me. "no more romance, huh?"

my bookshelf is full of history books and architecture books. maybe just a few classical literature. they're all from bookstores and museum gift shops. it seems that whenever i'm upset, i go out or percy takes me out and i always come home with an armful of books. that and with everyone gifting me those types of books every birthday and christmas, my collection has grown exponentially.

"no," i say. "not as of late."

as in not since she left and i turned in all my romance novels to the library. when i abandoned my hopes for romance. i haven't read one since then.

"guess we both grew out of it." piper muses.

i watch her as she pulls one from the shelf. she leafs through the illiad by homer.

"plus, i have you. what use do i have for those anymore?" i say.

piper laughs and it fills the apartment. "i like it when you say corny shit like that." she puts the book back on the shelf.

i smile and walk closer to her. she places her hands on my cheeks and i wrap my arms around her waist. i feel the heaving of her chest. i feel her warmth against my face. i still think it's all fake. that i'm bound to wake up soon. just like last time. not real. just smoke.

but she looks up at me with her kaleidoscope eyes and i feel a tugging in my chest.

"this feels foreign to me." i say.

"what?"

"loving."

piper giggles and leans in and kisses me. i kiss her back, slowly melting into it. she pulls away again.

"how is it foreign? it's just us again, six years later."

"six years ago was a lifetime ago." i murmur. "a dream-like recollection."

i lean into her and kiss her lips again. they're warm and soft as lips are. it feels like being found. it feels like being whole.

she smiles when we pull away, her eyes flutter open.

"it hurt to be without you," she whispers.

i frown. "that's a terrible way to be. dependent on someone to be happy."

she shakes her head. "alone is a terrible way to be."

i feel her hands in my hair. i know she likes it when it's down like this. i almost feel like a different person with my hair down. she twists the curls in her fingers like twisting strands of threaded gold. i close my eyes and she kisses my lips and silences my mind. she kisses down my neck.

"does it hurt to be with me?" she asks softly.

"nothing ever hurts, only aches."

"i don't want to hurt you." she says. "not if you're unsure."

i can't help but smile at her concern. "you're not. it's not you. my head always just aches."

my hands creep under her shirt and i feel flesh against the skin. it's warm the way skin is. it feels so foreign to me. to be touching her. to be loving her. her perfume is intoxicating. honeysuckle and gardenias. i kiss her deeply, with my arms pressing her against me. we fit so well, i wonder if the universe made us for eachother.

it's a loving, naive little thought. that we were made for eachother.

and we keep kissing and pushing until i am on my back and she is on top of me on the bed.

"are you okay?" she asks.

i smile. "yeah."

she kisses down my neck and collarbones. her fingers trail down my body.

clothes are discarded on the ground. my fingers fumble with the clasp of her bra. when it comes off, she sighs like it was a burden lifted.

she continues to kiss me, fingers flying down my skin. feeling her pressed against me felt like seeing god. or maybe venus in the foam. and what's the feeling in my chest? as though i were doing something wrong, but enjoying it too much to stop. helen of troy and paris knew they would cause a war. and they kissed like it too.

fingers continue to fly and i feel as though a part of something bigger. i gasp.

"does this feel good?" she asks, uncertain. "does it hurt?"

nothing ever hurts, only aches.

"no." i breathe.

her lips curl into a smile.

a fleet of a thousand ships at the shore. a war for what? a war for the price of love. for the price of a kiss.