Cruel World

“I know,” she murmured. “I’ll be gentle; you’ll survive.” Lightning washed the building again, her eyes dancing in the nimble light.

She peeled her clothing away and then removed his so that they were naked against each other, their skin pressing together as they embraced once again. Her hands moved over his body and then guided his fingers over hers. He explored her, not able to experience enough of her skin. Slowly, she eased herself up and grasped him, before lowering herself down in a settling of pleasure so deep he nearly cried out with it.

“Shhh, not yet,” she said, coming close to him, her breath tickling his ear. She began to move above him, stroking his neck and chest. He clung to her, beginning to shake with a need so great and deep that it became exponential, building upon itself until it was a tower from which he dangled over an infinite drop filled with ecstasy. Alice moaned his name and arched her back before closing the gap between them, their bodies melding into one. There was a tightening inside him that ratcheted up until he thought he would burst. Alice whispered his name and said now, please, please, now, now, now and then he was shuddering with a release so profound all the sound in the world ceased. In the quivering silence, they held each other, spiraling down until he felt like he had returned to the ocean, drifting on his back in gentle waves that rose and fell beneath him.

It seemed like hours before he was able to speak.

“I—”

“Don’t,” she said, putting her fingers to his mouth. “Just hold me.”

“Okay.”

He laid there with Alice pressed against him, aware of every inch of her body, the rising and falling of her chest, the strand of her hair that rested on his temple. He drifted away, the illusion of being on a sun-warmed raft in the middle of the sea carrying him into sleep.

They woke in the early morning hours, both of them moving sinuously against one another, enjoying the heat and closeness. Pallid light streamed in through the window, the day smothered beneath a blanket of hovering clouds.

“Good morning,” Alice said, nuzzling his neck. Quinn smiled, drawing a fingertip up the small of her back.

“Morning. Did that all happen?”

“Every second.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t—” Quinn waved his free hand. “—hold off more.”

“God, Quinn. For your first time, you were, something else…” she trailed off.

“You’re just being nice.”

“Am I ever ‘just being nice’”?

“No, I guess not.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He fell silent for a while, lying still, looking up at the dingy canvas above them.

“You know, I don’t expect anything for helping you and Ty. I hope—”

“That I didn’t pity-fuck you?” she asked, raising herself onto an elbow.” No. I didn’t. And don’t ever ask something like that again.”

“Okay. It’s just hard for me to believe because…” he gestured at his face. She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It was gentle and sweet.

“Believe it.”

They fell silent for a long while, a few raindrops tapping against the roof.

“Alice, I know you’re going to hate me for it, but—”

“You’re leaving anyway, right?”

He shifted, looking her in the eyes. “How’d you know?”

“Because I knew there was no changing your mind last night when you walked out of the room. And because I know I’d do the same thing if it were my father.”

“I would stay, and you don’t know how much I want to, but then it would be like I’m still living behind that fence in Maine. I’d be trapped everyday knowing that he might have had something to do with all this. I’d never be free, not really.”

She nodded against his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever cared about has left me,” she whispered. “Everyone but Ty, and I know someday he’ll leave too.”

“I’m coming back,” he said.

“You’ll try.”

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