He sits on the very edge of the bed on the opposite side to the one I'm laying on. My gaze can't help but float back to his arms, his hands. They fiddle absentmindedly with a small grip of the bedcovers, before he smooths it back out, just to pick it back up again.
"You okay?" he asks, making my eyes lift again. He's looking at me, once more. He tries to make it come across like he couldn't really care all that much about the answer, but he's never been a great liar.
"Just tired," I answer, trying to give him a small smile. Closer, I think, my mind running at a thousand miles an hour. If you come just a little closer, I'll give you what the two of us are too scared to admit we want.
When my eyes glance away for just a second and then return to his face, I catch his own eyes dipping slowly down to my lips.
They remain for a moment, his eyes lingering for far too long for him to think of me as nothing more than a friend, I can tell that much, until his gaze meets mine and the two of us know and understand what's on the brink of happening.
Closer, I think again. Lean over to me, just lean over and let my hands fall through your hair and your hands can go wherever you want them to, try, just try, I'm not going to deny you.
As if by magic, he leans, and my heart soars when he lets one of his hands rest against my arm for just a moment, before he pats— I'm not joking- pats me on the arm and stands back up. It's like something you'd see soldiers do, it's so friendly like.
"Get some sleep," he whispers into the room from the doorway, before he walks away, leaving me alone. I sit still, trying to understand what just happened between us.
Was it just a heavy moment thing, and something that I shouldn't read into? We're friends, I think, friends and nothing more, but even as I repeat it over and over again in my head, I sound idiotic.
Friends don't stare at each others lips, friends don't have to bounce around conversations to avoid making things awkward, friends don't get hard when they reach out and simply touch one another. Or pat.
Get some sleep, I think over in my head. Get some sleep? I have half the mind to head right down the hall and into his room and ask him what he meant by that. Was it meant to be some sort of tease, or did he really just tell me to 'get some sleep?'
My arm is still tingling from where he'd reached out to touch. He could've left it with just a touch, I would've understood that, but then he had to pat. What does a pat mean? That blurred the line, the touch would've been sensual if he had left it there.
What if I had touched him, I wonder again? I wouldn't of patted, and if he didn't brush me away then I probably would've let my hands wander. When would I cross a line, or is there a line to cross?
We're out here, all alone, with nobody coming to disturb us or interrupt. What's holding me back? I've never held back before, if that had been any other man I've relentlessly fucked over the past years then I wouldn't of even hesitated. But with him, I can't even touch. I don't think I can even pat.
Is he thinking along the same lines? Has he been with other men since me? Of course he has, he must have. At least he had the nerve to reach out and touch me, even if it turned into a pat. I couldn't even do that.
What do I want, what did I come here to find? The real question is, what am I willing to put him through? By going back to him, I'm risking putting both him and I through what we went through all those years ago and that doesn't seem worth it, hurting him again. Is that why I hesitated?
Am I afraid to hurt him? By luring him in, by rekindling what was alive so long ago, I also risk bringing back the bad, too.
I can't just pick to bring the good, you can't pick and choose exactly what you want in these kinds of situations. Some things just fall into place alone, untouched.
YOU ARE READING
clocks
Fanfiction༄ the sequel to my book sparks. after years of being without each other, d is left in shock when g turns up on his doorstep unannounced, prepared to help him with the book he is currently working on. what neither of them considered is the spark tha...