living on a fault line

III

(Fall, 2013.)

She runs her fingers over Roseanne's back.

Her skin is cold with dried sweat, which the room faintly smells off as well. Most of all, it smells like Roseanne. The small space is inundated with the scent of her hair -that shampoo she likes, that always has Lisa pressing her nose to the nape of Roseanne's neck and breathing in. It's this 2-in-1 apple monstrosity, Lisa knows, because Roseanne is so busy she doesn't have time to devote to a hair care regimen like Lisa's -and because they did it in her shower last week, and Lisa knocked over the bottle when she came.

Roseanne's skin smells like vanilla under Lisa's nose, and her lips taste like cherry from the lip gloss she borrowed from Lisa.

Lisa used to hate her dorm room's shitty ventilation system, but she loves it right now.

Anya would have teased her to death for 'putting out on the third date'. Now, it's the fourth time she and Roseanne have been together, and Lisa doesn't think it will ever be less intense or exciting or wholly overwhelming.

Now if she could only get to sleep and make it on time for her 8am class in the morning.

She lies with her back to the door, on the right side of her bed. She usually sleeps on the left. Her back to the wall, her eyes able to look at the room around her as she falls asleep. Though no one ever comes in that she hasn't invited, it gives her a sense of tranquility. It makes Lisa feel grounded in her space. Of course, Roseanne has never slept here before, so she couldn't know.

Lisa didn't think sides of the bed even mattered (though she's never dated anyone for long enough for them to pick one) so she tries to drift off, but it isn't happening.

Roseanne looks tired, and so placid as her eyes drift close. Lisa would rather not sleep and avoid missing a second of it.

"What's wrong babe?" Roseanne asks, eyes opening slightly, voice laced with sleep. Roseanne always notices.

"It's nothing," Lisa tells her, running her fingertips across Roseanne's naked shoulder. It feels so right to be here with her right now. Their legs intertwined and their bodies leaning towards each other beneath the sheets. They fit.

Roseanne opens her eyes, and lovely blue stares back at Lisa.

"Really?"

"Just can't sleep," Lisa says simply, and raises herself up to kiss Roseanne on the cheek. Just because she can.

"Aren't you tired?" Roseanne asks, tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of Lisa's head. Lisa wants to moan at the feeling, but keeps it in. "Then I didn't do my job properly."

Lisa shakes her head.

"It's just I usually don't sleep with my back to the room," she tells Roseanne. "It's weird. Go to sleep."

"No, tell me." Roseanne opens her eyes wider, trying to keep herself awake. She's all smudged eyeliner and sex hair, and Lisa hates that it really does it for her.

"I don't know," she tells Roseanne, shrugging. "It just feels likesomething is going to get me."

"Like a monster?" Roseanne teases.

"No, I don't know."

Lisa closes her eyes, embarrassed.

She opens them at once when she feels weight on top of her, the now-familiar curves of Roseanne's body pressing her into the mattress. She plops down on Lisa's other side, effectively switching sides in the small twin bed.