Somnia | $crim

8. Nocturnal Emission

Warning: 😉

May 25th, 2015

A few weeks passed, and I was on my way to work while you and I made plans to get lunch together. I wanted to see you every day, but I settled with at least talking to you all day. Waking up to a good morning text made me excited to get out of bed.

Carmen's sister got me my job here at the hospital. She works in the labor department, as a nightshift nurse, but she's friendly with my supervisor so she put in a good word.

I smiled at my phone as I sat down at the nurse's station. Booting up my computer, a familiar figure appeared on the other side... Hannah. She tapped her long nails against my desk and refused to meet my eyes. I've spent this whole time dodging her in one way or another.

"Can I help you?" I said, breaking the silence, but not the tension, between us.

"Celine said I should say sorry," she said as she crossed her arms over her chest. "So, I'm sorry if you were offended."

"That's...not an apology."

"Fine. I'm sorry that you were hurt by what I said about your parents." Now, a couple of people had poked their heads over their stations to get the front row at New Orleans's newest reality show–now live! The people in my department are bigger gossips than Carmen. "But you have to admit there's some truth in what I said."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"I'm just saying, your mom is in prison. She's a criminal. Was I wrong?"

"I don't know how to tell you this, but you don't have to point it out. I'm very aware of where she is. You don't have any idea what this is like for my family, do you? Have you ever considered what it's like for her? Or why she did what she did in the first place?" Hannah didn't respond. "I can only talk to my mom once a week. I haven't seen her in over a year. I'm sorry you have such little empathy for my family or any like mine."

Most of my childhood was spent always feeling like the rug was going to be pulled out from underneath me at any time. Sometimes, my mom was a doting and loving parent, like every child wants. Others, she was cold and would lay in bed for weeks at a time, just getting high. I could never predict which mom I was going to get. Then, we would move again. We left our hometown because she was mad at her parents and my dad. We left Grand Rapids once she started getting into selling drugs, instead of just using them. We left Phoenix when she got a new boyfriend who wanted to move. We moved to San Jose when they broke up. We left Toledo after another failed relationship. She said she chose Nashville because she liked the name. She stayed in New Orleans until her past caught up with her.

After my dad went his own way, that's when things started falling apart. His absence has had a stronger impact than his presence ever could. He died when I was fourteen, buried next to his parents in Michigan. As every disorganized childhood goes, the burden of becoming a stand-in parent was left to me at a very early age.

Now, my supervisor had stepped in and told us to calm down. Hannah stormed out of the area while I went to the bathroom for my scheduled breakdown. This time, I actually did throw up, instead of just retching, while my stomach twisted itself into a knot. I didn't mind losing her as a friend; I don't need that type of negativity in my life. It's just frustrating having kept someone around for so long only for them to rear their ugly head in the end.

Around noon, I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs. You were already waiting for me outside the hospital. We headed down Tulane Avenue, on foot, to a spot right down the street. My lunch breaks are only an hour so we couldn't be spontaneous and wander around until we happened upon a place like we did before. It was a Vietnamese restaurant though, which is probably the next best thing.

"You okay? You seem...off," you asked, commentating on my silence throughout the duration of our meal. We were now walking back to the hospital, and I recounted my earlier interaction with Hannah. "What the fuck is her problem?"

I shrugged and changed the subject. "Do you want to come over tonight?"

"What time?" You smiled.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

If you're anything, you're punctual. You have never been late for anything we've planned; au contraire, you're early. I asked you to arrive at 8, giving me time to freshen up after my shift, but you showed up at 7:45.

"Just couldn't wait," you said when I opened my front door.

Carmen took the kids for the night, so we set up shop in my living room instead of my room. We put on a movie (Shrek) but quickly stopped paying attention before we could even be informed that onions have layers. It didn't take long for you to put your arm around my shoulders and pull me into your chest. You smelled like cigarettes, weed, and cologne – a seemingly awful mixture of notes but it was alluring, nonetheless.

"Hey," you hummed, interrupting Shrek. You didn't say anything more, you just wanted me to look up at you because, when I did, you put your hand on my chin and pulled me closer to your face. You tasted just as good as he smelled, and I couldn't get enough as you snaked your other hand around my waist. "I've been thinking about something."

"And what would that be?" I asked as you leaned closer to me.

"How good that outfit would look on the floor."

You ran his hands down my back until you found the hem of my shirt. With help from me, my shirt was on the ground just like you wished. You ended up pushing me on my back so you could get my pants off too. At this point, we decided to go to my room. Once on my bed, small kisses trailed down my chest to between my legs. It didn't take long until I finished.

"Move," you said callously but I didn't care. I knew you just wanted me to get into a more comfortable position for you. I moved to the middle of my bed, so my head was resting on my pillows, with you following behind me. You slowly entered me, the wetness helping guide you in.

All too quickly, I felt you finish, moaning as you did so, which is the best part. You laid down next to me, our skin sticking together as you put your arm around me again.

"Do you want to shower?" you asked, kissing the top of my head. "It's hot in here."

You were right, as you often are. The humidity continued to build in my room as the day went on. We showered together, which was just as much fun, before returning to the movie.

Eventually, Shrek and Fiona were married, we fell asleep, and the sun rose again.