Alexis

Lei Cavalca

She Rides

-

When I work up, my hospital bracelet was no longer on my wrist. I sat up, not caring that I was naked, and looked around until I found it. It was on the ground. I didn't remember it falling off last night. It must've fallen off sometime in the middle of the night.

I sighed and got out of bed. Vincent was turned on his side, still asleep. I found my clothes on the floor. As I slipped back on my cotton underwear and my t-shirt, I heard the scruffing of the shifting sheets. I turned when I heard Vincent heavily sigh the way he did when he woke up and stretched in bed.

"Lex?" he called a hand over his eyes. I picked up my hospital band and then sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him. He rubbed his face. "Doll. Are you okay? What time is it?"

"I'm fine," I whispered. "It's eight in the morning." I slept in later today but it made sense. I was up longer last night. And doing more draining activities.

He shook his head as he sat up in bed. "Is your body okay? Did I hurt you last night?"

I shook my head. "No. I said it all in the moment. I feel fine now. Are you okay?" I asked. He hummed in agreement. "My hospital bracelet fell off," I announced. He frowned and reached out to my shoulder. Rubbed the shirt that was over my skin.

"Stai bene?" he asked and came closer to me. He pulled me against his body.

"Yeah," I whispered. "I knew it'd fall off at one point," I acknowledged.

He apologized and kissed my forehead. I pulled away from his grip to drop my bracelet on the nightstand before I went back to his embrace.

"Are you tired?" I asked him.

"No, why?" he asked.

"I want to have sex," I shamelessly told him. I mean, let's be honest, there is no fucking reason why I would be ashamed to say that. Let's be fucking for real. "But I don't want you to kiss me because I haven't brushed my teeth yet this morning."

"I don't mind—"

I cut him off because I knew what he was going to say.

"I mind, Vincent. That's the issue. I don't feel like being gross with myself at eight in the morning," I politely explained. "I know it's not an issue for you but to me it's a bit gross."

"You think I'm gross?" he asked with his eyebrows together.

"No," I denied. "It's not you gross, it's me gross as in I feel disgusted with myself. Like when I was, um. . ." do I swallow my pride? Well, I've done a lot with this man. Did I need to worry about visual appearances when I was with him?

". . . If you haven't figured it out, there are a lot of superficial aspects to this family."

I nodded but I couldn't help but think if I was superficial. I know he said he liked me but what if he was just convincing me so I could be a superficial aspect of his life.

The memory floated and then quickly left. I couldn't help but think of myself as a bit pretentious with those thoughts.

Was it your fault? You were a kid.

That's not an excuse. You were seventeen. Time to grow the fuck up.

"When?" Vincent asked when I never finished my sentence.

"When I was depressed and stuff. I felt gross with myself. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" I asked but his eyebrows were still knitted together in confusion. "Like, it was just—" I groaned. "I didn't like myself or how I felt. I wasn't comfortable in my body. I don't want to kiss you with morning breath, not because of you but because I don't like knowing that I'm dirty.