Moonlight Kisses

landmine

jordyn.

I can feel my body trying to stir awake. In that foggy state between dream and wake my subconscious lingers. The inevitable conclusion of waking up awaits me but I really would have appreciated it if my body stayed asleep for just 5 more minutes. As I feel every part of my body slowly become alert, I still keep up the losing fight to linger in my fuzzy dreams.

There's a thin layer of sweat making my shirt stick to my back. I don't even know how that happened. It was freezing cold when I went to sleep and all of a sudden I wanted to throw all the blankets off of me. My dream must've been stressful last night if I'm waking up in a cold sweat.

There's a foreign weight pressing down on my waist. As I start to stir awake, I notice it all the more prominently. My foot is resting on something, I have yet to tell what it is. I don't feel like I'm suffocating, in fact I'm feeling quite the opposite. I feel secure and protected, meaning it couldn't have been a dream that sent a panic rushing through my body in its sleep.

My eyes are the last thing to 'wake up'; reluctantly might I add. Because of the water in my eyes and the fact that I'm still half-asleep, I don't question the black wall blocking my view. I blink my eyes hard, a tear slips out of the corner of my eye. I hate having wet eyes the moment I wake up. Sometimes it's from whatever I dream about, most of the time it's just natural. My arm is tingling and sore from laying on it all night, but I really don't feeling like moving⎯

Do black walls always smell like mint and smoke?

A deep breath breaks the silence. My suspicions go haywire when I realize it wasn't me.

The sound of a deep groan confirms it.

"Beau," I whisper, trying to test if he's awake or not.

His lazy hum tells me he's half-asleep just as I am.

How the hell is this even happening right now? From the hazy memory in my brain I can recall clear as day him coming back upstairs in the wee hours of morning and falling asleep at the very other end of the bed, even making sure to put a wall of pillows between us to ensure we wouldn't wake up like this.

My immediate thought should be which one of us is to blame for the invasion of the personal bounds we purposely set. Rather, it's on the warmth on my waist where his arms are, encasing me by my torso and pulling me closer to him. The feeling of his delicate breath fanning my neck as he nuzzles his face into it. Holding me as if it's the last time he'll ever be able to do so. Taking in my scent as if he was trying to memorize it. The way he lets me do the same to him. With a hand around his waist and another hand buried in the soft light brown strands of his hair, I held him in place so I could bury my face in his chest, getting as close to him as humanly possible. Our legs tangled together, one of his legs prying mine apart.

We're like two pieces of a puzzle trying to fit together in any form possible. But we're not a perfect fit. We throw off the balance of the picture as a whole if we continue to do what we're doing now.

I gingerly move my hand from his hair and ball it up in a fist to place on his chest. This is wrong. The longer we lay here, the more damage we'll do. Beau pulls his face out of my neck, knowing what we have to do. It's not a conclusion either of us will like, but it has to be done.

We've tried pushing each other away. Clearly, it doesn't work. The only thing that works is force. Forcing him to get mad. Forcing me to leave. That's what works time and time again. This push-and-pull won't stop unless that happens. And I hate that it has to come to that in order for us to understand that this can't happen anymore.

We have to shove each other away.

Selfishly, I steal one last glance. My gaze shifts up to look at him and I make the mistake of looking right into his eyes. His sad eyes. He may not agree with how much I let everyone around us dictate where our stance is, but he respects it. Which is why he's going to let me do what I have to do. Beau's going to play his role, whether it's reluctant or not, he's going to push me away in the only way that'll work. In a way that sticks. In a way that burns so fucking bad.