[Anglais] À travers ma fenêtre

21

My reflection in the mirror gives me a disapproving look, as if judging me. I sigh.

What am I doing? Why did I decide to stay? I shouldn't be here.

But how could I say no? He asked me with those puppy eyes, a clear plea on his face. No one can judge me, not even my reflection. Having the guy you're crazy for, all wet and sexy, begging you to stay with him, is too much. The alcohol clouding my brain isn't helping either. Besides, my mom's not home, so I won't get into trouble.

I shake out my wet hair and dry it with a towel. I've already showered, abandoning my wet dress for a shirt that Ares loaned me. In his bathroom. I can't believe I'm here in the bathroom attached to his room. I feel like I'm invading his privacy. It's spotless. The white ceramic shines. I'm afraid to touch anything and ruin the tidiness.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I tug at the bottom of Ares's shirt, trying to cover myself as much as possible. Underneath I'm wearing a pair of his boxers. They're very loose, but it was either wear these or stay wet and freeze. For an instant I wonder if I can stay here, in the bathroom, but I know I can't.

Ares didn't say much after we left the pool. He let me use his bathroom, saying he would use the one down the hall. For some strange reason I know he's already back, waiting for me in his room.

You can do it, Raquel. He promised not to touch you. If you don't want him to . . .

That's the problem, I do want him to. I want to kiss him again, to feel him against me again, and I know I shouldn't. Why does knowing we shouldn't do something always make us want to do it more? Why did I say yes? Now I'm in the lion's den. Determined to get on with it, I open the bathroom door and step out.

The room is illuminated by a single small lamp. It's large and surprisingly tidy. Ares is sitting on the bed, shirtless, with his back against the headboard and a bottle of tequila in his hand. His eyes meet mine, and he smiles at me. "You look good in my shirt."

Don't smile like that! Can't you see you're melting my heart?

I smile back at him and stand there in the semidarkness, not knowing what to do.

"Are you going to stand there all night? Come." He points to a spot next to him. I hesitate, and he notices. "Are you afraid of me?"

"Of course not."

"Of course, of course, come here."

I obey him by sitting on the edge of the bed, putting as much distance as I can between us. He raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

"How about we keep playing?" He lifts the bottle, turning his body toward me.

"The pool game?" He just nods. "It's late, don't you think?"

"Are you afraid to play with me?"

"I told you, I'm not afraid of you."

"Then why are you about to fall out of the bed? You don't have to sit so far away, I made a promise, didn't I?"

Yes, you said you wouldn't touch me if I didn't want you to. The problem is that I do want you to.

"Just a precaution."

"If you say so." He sits cross-legged, and I do the same. We face each other with the bottle between us.

"You start."

I think for a while and decide on something simple. "Never have I ever slept with someone of the opposite sex in the same bed without doing anything." And I drink.