Strangers | ✔️

seven

thursday ☾

The bed dipped beside me.

Then, arms reached around me, under my knees, and suddenly I was in the air, body against another. The warmth left me in a jiffy as Damien placed me by the soft headboard gently, filling up the rest of the cold space as he sat in front of me.

He reached for my face, wiping away my tears with his thumb.

"Please don't cry." He whispered, a soft frown clouding his features. "You did nothing wrong. You shouldn't be the one crying." He caressed my cheek a few more times, and I leaned into his touch, suddenly wanting him to cocoon me in a warm embrace so that I feel safe.

"Damien..." I whispered, finally meeting his dark eyes. "Damien, I'm sorry. I know this isn't all your fault, and yet I'm... I'm yelling these rants at you." I sighed, eyes flitting shut.

"No, you have every right to. And I'm sorry, I really am." A pause. "And thank you, too. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me."

We sat there like that for a while. I took his hand at one point and let our intertwined fingers drop onto the icy hotel sheets. My eyelids drooped; the silence calmed me down. Damien was right. I shouldn't be the one crying. I shouldn't let others control my emotions.

The smell of hotel shampoo wafted into my nose. Tentatively, the boy in front me took me in his arms, pushing a gentle kiss upon my lips. The rest of us melted into the bed as the kiss deepened; he sucked my breath out of me, turning breaths into gasps and clumsy attempts to respond.

It was easy to turn bare in his arms in the semi-darkness. His figure was silverlined against the background, heavy breaths puffed onto my neck. My everywhere was blushing. He'd easily convinced me to his touch, beckoning for more as his fingers and lips trailed my body, sometimes locking me to the soft surface underneath and sometimes lifting me by the waist to be closer.

I didn't want him to know it was my first.

But that was a wish unfulfilled. The tears came and the whimpers came as the sharp pain contrasted against his soft touches and murmurs. And then the apologies came, too.

I'm sorry he'd whispered, I'm sorry and I'm sorry and I'm sorry over and over again. I bit in my tears, let him take my hand in his so he could squeeze it reassuringly. I was anything but graceful as I let him murmur apologies against my skin.

And suddenly all I could see was his face, his lips mouthing apology after apology, eyes churning with a sincerity. And I lifted a hand to his face, wiped his tear away, too. What were you apologizing for, darling? I could no longer tell. Was the apology for your body against mine, for letting me experience the first but last pain of this sort I'll ever feel? Or was the apology for before? For the things we talked about tonight?

As he buried his face into my neck again, I felt new tears mixing with my burning skin. Intimacy demolishes lies. Tears them down into atoms and reshapes them until they come out as truth. Damien's body pressed into mine, and I realized that he was learning to be vulnerable. In putting me in a vulnerable position, in feeling me soften and sigh beneath him, he felt easier to expose his emotions, break down in raw tears and raw apologies. Oh, Damien. Who taught you to be a man, Damien?

I'm sorry, darling. That society teaches you not to cry. Not to apologize. Not to care. Not to respect. Damien, Damien, Damien. You'll be okay. You are no wolf who pads away to die alone when injured; you are human and you are allowed to show vulnerabilities. Belly rubs are allowed. I promise.

* * *

The two of us lay there afterwards, exchanging kisses and tears. A few kisses escalated throughout the night, turning into more rounds of bliss that fortunately, improved from my first. They were sweaty and tiring but tearless.

I'd almost fallen asleep against Damien's bare chest when footsteps sounded outside the door. I dazedly watched as Damien collected clothes from the floor, clinging onto his chest and whispering at him to not go. He just kissed my temple and lied back in bed, hugging me tighter and pulling his duvet over my head. I blinked in confusion.

"My friends are back. Stay still; it'll just be a minute. They'll be asleep in seconds." I registered his words and groaned a response, already feeling aches in my thighs that should've only been here the next day. I snuggled closer to his warmth, wrapped my arms around his waist.

I almost fell asleep again after the hotel room door closed, but one of Damien's friend's stage whisper swear woke me in a frenzy. Damien reached a hand to hold mine when he noticed me tensing, his breathing amazingly calm. I heard the connecting door opening, then closing. Someone trodding over to close the curtains. Everything turned silent after that.

"Wakey wakey," Damien whispered and lifted the duvet. The two of us got dressed, and I couldn't stifle any of my yawns. Damien smiled at me affectionately as I messily put my feet in my shoes. He opened the door quietly and took my hand, leading me in the hallway that was still lighted despite it being past midnight. Unfortunately, the walk to my room took less than a minute, so the wonderfully serene walk with Damien had to be cut short.

I stood in front of the door, facing Damien as if I was a 90s movie character expecting a goodnight kiss from her to-be boyfriend. In the end, I settled for a tight hug.

"No more sorrys after today," Damien whispered in my ear. I smiled and nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck.

"Okay. I'm okay with that."