I've never had a one-night stand before. I wonder if this even counts...
He comes into my room as I lie awake, staring at the ceiling. He doesn't make a sound, but I know he is there.
"You've come for me?"
He nods, a faint smile on his lips. He strokes my cheek gently, not wanting to hurt me or frighten me. I gasp a little and flinch as he pulls the needle out of the inside of my elbow. I'd expected it to hurt, but it doesn't. The liquid now drips slowly onto the floor.
"I've waited for you." He nods again, but the small smile is gone. He doesn't like this.
"I didn't expect you to look like this," I tell him, gesturing towards him. He is dressed in loose jeans, belted in black, with a long grey jacket too elegant to be a trenchcoat over a simple black T-shirt. I'm not sure, but I think he's wearing sneakers.
He grins and looks at his feet, moving his toe to avoid being splashed on by the dripping IV. I was wrong. He's wearing scuffed combat boots.
"There's nothing wrong with it," I assure him, patting his hand as he sits on my bed beside me. "You look like the boy I had a crush on in high school." I smile to let him know this is a good thing. He brushes his dark hair out of his eyes.
"The way you look... It's specifically for me, isn't it?"
Another drip hits the floor before he nods. I sit all the way up and put my arms around him.
"It's all right," I tell him, my lips brushing his jacketed arm. " I don't mind. Like I said, I've been waiting for you." He puts an arm around me and smiles, although it doesn't touch his grey eyes. They're not grey like clouds or anything. They're more like... pencil lead, the way it looks when you get really bored and just scribble, because they fade and darken irregularly. I stare at those eyes as he stares at me. He blinks only when the IV drops hit the floor, as if the sound reminds him that he needs to do it.
"I'm ready," I whisper after a while. He puts his other arm around me and pulls me close to him. His eyes close and he leans towards me.
I pull away. I don't know if his breath tickled, or if I'm secretly frightened and just not telling myself, but I wasn't ready.
I put my hands on his chest and rest my head on his shoulder. I stare at his black-covered chest. I can tell through his shirt that his skin is smooth and his muscles are tight. He's slim. I like that.
He smiles at me, wryly, as if he can understand my thoughts and finds them amusing. "I'm sorry," I say," I just... well..." I sigh, just a little bit, and listen to his heartbeat. It's slow and steady, as if he were sleeping.
Finally, I tilt my head up and wrap my arms around his neck. "All right," I tell him. His lip twitches.
"I mean it! This time, I'm ready!" He didn't even have to say anything. Just that slight twitch of the lip and the look in his grey eyes told me what he was thinking. He was all set to argue with me!
I close my eyes.
He pauses just before our ips meet. He's teasing me this time, the brat. But his lips are warm and pleasantly soft, and I find myself enjoying his touch.
He strokes my hair for a moment after, and then moves away, pulling me with him. He holds my hand in his as we walk. I feel a tiny pang for everything I'm leaving.
I turn back, taking a last look at the room, with its machines and pale walls and TV mounted from the ceiling. The dripping IV is making a puddle on the floor.
I see myself and think for the first time, maybe I AM pretty.
He squeezes my hand. I look, really look, at the me lying in bed. "She had a sweet face, didn't she?" I say to him as if she wasn't myself, and I turn away.