The sky tonight was like wet paint splattered on canvas. The blues, the purples and the greens danced together in anticipation of the storm to come. The wind howled and the lightning cracked like a whip. I sat by my window watching the street outside. I wondered if I should open the window a bit. Maybe the sting of the frosty air outside would make me feel human again. Maybe the storm-to-be would blow me away or blow me to pieces, anything to end this nothing that was me.
An image flashed through my mind: a razor glinting in the moonlight, cold steel against my wrists and blood rushing out of my veins, staining my jeans, staining the floor, seeping through the creaky wooden floor, seeping into the earth. My skin tingled and for a moment I felt like I could fly.
Death is lighter than feather, but duty on the other hand…My thoughts trailed off and I was numb again.
The first drops of rain started hitting the window pane with a soft pitter patter. I wanted to run outside. I wanted the water to soak through my clothes, soak through my skin and bones and into my soul. I wanted it to wash away the memory of his hands, his lips and his whispers of soft nothings in my ear. I wanted to scream or cry or rip out my hair. I wanted to jump out of my skin and be a bird in the sky. But I didn’t move, I just sat by my window staring at the street outside.
I looked on for maybe hours or maybe only a few minutes till Sam interrupted me. He gently kissed my cheek and sat down on the floor near my feet. His hair was sticking out every which way and his eyes were bleary from sleep. It was a lovely sight. He laid his head on my lap and I instinctively started running my fingers though his hair. It was soft as usual, a bit crunchy in some places from hair gel.
“You’re still awake,” he said, while drawing small patterns on my legs with his fingers.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I murmured.
Sam was silent for a while, just trailing small kisses on my thigh. We’ve been here so many times before. “Someday he won’t be able to hurt you anymore,” he finally said.
I didn’t have anything to say to that. So, I just continued play with his hair, scratching his scalp a bit because I knew that was his favorite.
“I wish you could sleep, baby,” he whispered, while turning around and placing kisses further up my thigh. I parted my legs a bit more to accommodate him. “I love you,” he murmured against my skin.
“And I love you,” I half sighed as his hands trailed across my body. I felt safe with Sam, safer than I can ever remember feeling. He was sweet and warm, like a fireplace in the winter. I was drowning and he was my anchor. He was the one thing in the world that made me feel and I wanted more.
We were on the floor, my white, cotton nightgown lay discarded beside me. Hands and lips wandered across my body, caressing, worshipping. He took a nipple into his mouth, while his hands nudged my thighs apart. His fingers lightly stroked my clit and I could feel myself clenching in pleasure.
“Please…” I moaned. Sam looked up at me, his eyes hooded with desire, and he was inside me in one swift motion. He was big for me but I liked it. I liked how he filled me; I liked how I didn’t feel empty anymore. He moved in and out of me and the pleasure I felt was like warm honey coursing through my veins, pouring into the place where we were joined.
Half an hour later we lay sweaty and satisfied on the floor. “I’ll take care of you,” Sam murmured into my hair.
“I know,” I said, as the numbness started to seep back in.
