the blind side of love | chaennie

forty-nine

I love you, Roseanne thought a thousand times that evening. There had been other thoughts, too —thoughts full of pauses, separated by gasps and moans and cries of pleasure—but she couldn't remember them. What she remembered was realizing that she loved everything about Jennie. She loved her body and her skin and the way she held Roseanne tighter when she came. She loved the way Jennie touched her, with a mixture of diffidence and confidence. She loved Jennie's hands and her fingers and her tongue; definitely her tongue.

Roseanne opened her mouth to speak; to say something along the lines of, "You killed me." But all that came out was an incomprehensible sound. Her body felt like Jell-O, but heavier; like a Jell-O rock. Her mind swam. She was aware of the damp sheets beneath her back, of the fact that time had moved forward and into the early morning. But mainly, she was aware of Jennie. Of Jennie's mouth planting kisses on her thighs ... on her hip ... on her stomach.

"Yes?" Jennie said, and Roseanne could hear the smile in her voice. "Were you trying to say something?"

She gathered what was left of her brain power and tried again. "Don't you sound smug?"

"Well, you were moaning rather emphatically."

Roseanne opened her eyes to find Jennie gazing down at her, and whatever coherent thoughts had formulated in her mind fluttered away. She felt breathless. She wanted to say too many things at once; to pour out every last one of her emotions and make Jennie understand that this evening and every second in it had filled her with uncontainable happiness. She wanted to blurt out promises and declarations and ramble uncontrollably. But she was lucid enough to know that all of that was perhaps too much at this hour of the morning, and maybe too much in general.

"What are you thinking?" Jennie asked.

"I'm thinking ... that I meant what I said earlier."

"The 'oh, yes, right there?' I could tell."

"Before that."

"That you love my breasts?"

She grinned. "Yes, most certainly that. And also, that I love you." The statement sounded loud in the relative silence of the room. She'd said these words before, in a not-so-distant-past, to someone else entirely, but she had never felt vulnerable while saying them. Nothing about tonight or about this relationship felt like anything that had come before, and that was both exciting and terrifying.

Jennie smiled and Roseanne melted a little at the sight. She shifted her weight and lay down against Roseanne's side, resting her head on Roseanne' chest.

Roseanne's breath caught at the sensation. She would never tire of this, she thought. She was already addicted.

"Your heart is beating really fast."

"I can't imagine why," Roseanne said. "It's not like there's a super-hot girl lying naked against me or anything."

"Right."

"Seriously. When you look in the mirror you don't think to yourself, 'God, I'm so gorgeous. How am I allowed to exist among mortals?'"

Jennie laughed. "Is that what you think when you look in the mirror?"

"Oh, yeah," Roseanne said. "And then I think, 'Jennie Kim is so lucky to have me.'"

"Jennie Kim is indeed very lucky."

I'm the lucky one, she thought, but didn't say. Roseanne wanted to say too many things again and none of them sounded right in her head, which meant they'd sound even worse aloud. Tonight had been incredible and she didn't have the words to express how she felt about it all. Touching Jennie felt like a gift. Just holding Jennie felt like a gift. She wanted to tell Jennie all of this, but didn't know how. Saying 'I love you' didn't seem like enough.