𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐏𝐑𝐍 ❦

𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

. PRINCE .

december 20th, 1983
chanhassen, minnesota

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•

"Baby," Susan murmured with enervation weaved within her speech and a smooth, brown leg draping over my own. Our third round of intimacy concluded our night of excitement, leaving room for conversation as the intensity of our coition dwindled. "Come closer."

The enamored action of embracing and fondling while engaging in cheap pillow talk seemed futile. It wasn't ideal for me, especially consider how emotionally detached I had become over the years. However, there seemed to be normalcy within what I envisioned to be lackluster— to an extent. The only time cuddling could be perceived as viable is when done with the right person.

And that right person just wasn't Susan.

"Susan, you don't need me to hold you all the time," I exhaled while turning my head to face her, keeping my body rested in its place. "C'mere."

A jubilant smile erupted from that devilish mouth of hers as she hurriedly shuffled closer to me. I mumbled the word "shit"— most likely coming out as incoherent banter on her end— before raising out of my comfortable placement. I rested my back against the wooden headboard before lifting my arm to allow her access to my chest. Susan's head snuggled casually onto my chest, her smile diminishing as realization had settled in for her.

"Hey," she called suddenly. "Um... you were really into it tonight. What changed?"

"Susan, what are you on about?" I played off slyly by issuing a dazzling smile and pecking her forehead. "I'm always into it."

Surely, I was never into it. There were always instances of reluctance with each sexual advance made toward the curly headed woman, which always left me questioning how much I truly cared for her. What distracted me from having self awareness was the way my fickle mind so easy felt spell bound by lustrous hair and a fine-looking body. But, I can say the same happens to most men my age.

"No, you were really into it. You weren't just fuckin' me like you usually do. What's up with that?"

My heart sank into an abyss of uncertainty, plaguing the depths of my soul with utmost incoherence. Her persistent questioning toiled with my own validity, guilt edging me as I became a victim of her gaze. Susan's bright brown eyes summoned vulnerability within me, almost forcing me to tell my truths to her.

"Who is she?"

My brows furrowed; a stiffening that mimicked rigor mortis overwhelmed me with such force that I felt deceased. Realization struck as my thoughts traveled back to the woman that I had been conflicted over for the past few weeks, wondering why my heart forced a beautiful ache while thinking about her.

"No one."

"Hm, no one," she scoffed while removing herself from my body and turning her back toward me. "Lyin' isn't your strong suit."

"Yet you fall for my lies every time Susan," I released a tired chuckle, ceasing my dissimulating nature. "If it isn't my strong suit then why would you fall into them? Why believe me?"

"I don't," she ultimately answered after a moment of comfortable silence. "I just deal with it in hopes of you changin' your ways and of course, you never do. I don't know why I try so hard..."