wasted.

Chapter Three

Valencia ran to me when she first saw me enter the party, which felt so, so good.

She wrapped me in a hug, and her perfume filled my nose with what smelled like a perfume made by Dior.

"How's My Favroite?" I asked with a grin.

She gasped accusingly, a smile engulfing her face. "Have you forgotten again?"

"Just because I know your name now doesn't mean you're not still my favorite, Valencia," I replied.

Valencia smiled sweetly at me, which almost looked something like a blush. "Portia," she said softly. My heart fluttered.

"Do you want to go to a room?" I asked softly.

Another thing I actually did remember of Valencia was that she was an observer. When I first saw her, far before we had sex for the first time, she was sitting on the couch and watching the girls twerk on guys, or strip on tables. She was calm, amused. She drank, and apparently she fucked, but she wasnt typical, and I loved that about her.

She nodded softly, and took my hand. Soft, of course.

I went into our usual room and shut the door behind us, locking it just in case.

"Sober sex," she gave me a nervous smile, "can't say I've done that before."

"It's okay, neither have I," I replied honestly. "Are you okay with it, though?"

She nodded with a little blush, "Yeah. For once, I feel like I could actually dedicate to someone."

I exhaled shakily, shutting my eyes as if I could savor the moment that way. "God, so do I." I whispered, softly pressing my lips to hers.

For once it wasn't impulsive sex, but a sober choice. Now, I could remember exactly what it felt like, to replay in my mind over and over again whenever I pleased.

I could deny being gay all I wanted, but Valencia was my true happiness. For the first time in so long, she made me feel normal. And she did it in such a short amount of time, which scared me. 

Softly, I let her fall to bed underneath me, and our lips began moving into each other, speaking the way that was already so familiar for them.

I left my eyes open to linger on hers for just a minute longer, then let them fall closed, so as to savor the feeling of her lips. It felt better knowing I was going to remember it forever.

I stroked her hair gently, her smile intertwining into our kiss. She seemed nervous as I began peeling her shirt off, but she didn't stop me. I threw it to the floor gently, then let her do the same to me.

Her breath ghosted my face softly. She was sweet. Her whole body was sweet. Small, frail. She didn't have curves, but that made her even softer, somehow.

"Valenica," I felt as if I was one deep breath away from inhaling her entire body.

Her head angled to me, as if to answer my breathy call.

"You're everything, Valencia," I breathed, kissing the corner of her mouth, then right to her lips. She sighed deeply as my hands skimmed down her body, to her most intimate area and ghosting around it softly.

But as I have come to find, sweet things always come to an abrupt, horrible end.

A knock on the door, and "Portia, are you there?"

"Shit," I whispered pulling my hand away and sitting up.

"Who's that?" asked Valencia. I didn't want to tell her: I wanted to protect her feelings, keep her innocence... I wanted to preserve her to be mine forever.