—i had theo in mind in mind while writing this but it can be imagined with anyone rlly
you scoff, glancing around the tiny ass closet; hyper aware of every small detail— there's a crack in the wall, the floorboard is creaking beneath your feet and there's an ant crawling on the ground; it moves in rythmic patterns, as if it's performing some sort of sacred ritual. muffled sounds of music reverberate through the air; it feels like you're in another dimension. you lean your head back against the wall, the wood is rough and it digs into your hair— it's comforting though, as if it grounds you to earth; the warm buzz of the two— or was it three?— shots you'd taken earlier still cloud your brain. you close your eyes, desperately trying to ignore the other presence in the room.
he observes you closely, as if he's studying every small detail about you— from your body language to the amount of freckles that litter your cheeks; logically you know he can't actually count them, he's too far away and the room is too dark, though you can't help but think that if you'd asked, he'd be able to tell you exactly how many you there were. your eyes are closed but you can still feel his gaze on you; he stares at you as if he can physically see your soul hovering over your body—or wherever the fuck souls are.
"you look irritated"
you snort, opening one eye to look at him, "what gave you that bright idea?"
he chuckles, and god, it sounds heavenly; you imagine how it would feel against your skin.
"i dunno, maybe because you haven't said a word to me since we got locked in here"
you chuckle lightly and bury your head further into the wall, as if it were some sort of portal that could transport you to another world; you allow your eyes to close again, hoping that maybe you'd actually be in that world when they open again.
"that's a fair assessment"
he smirks at you— you can tell he's smirking because there's this strange tilt in his voice; you want to say you can recognize it because he talks so damn much that it's hard to not notice, but realistically that's not the reason.
"you're really trying hard to ignore me aren't you?" there's amusement lacing his voice— he's so cocky, full of himself— you want him so badly; you want him in ways that should be concerning to feminism.
"no, actually, i'm just trying to ignore my thoughts," technically it's not a lie, your mind still briefly wanders over to the ant; life would be easier as an ant, probably.
he raises a brow, intrigued by your statement— you still feel those fucking eyes on you.
"and what thoughts are you trying to avoid?"
you sigh, finally opening your eyes to look at him,
"i dunno, everything i guess, reevaluating my life decisions."
his eyes meet yours and you wish you'd kept them closed.
"sounds intense."
you snort, "not intense, just a regular night."
he crosses his arms over his chest and you gulp, vehemently trying to ignore all the less than innocent thoughts now entering your brain.
"ever try counting sheep?"
you giggle, "i just get bored."
he continues to look at you, as if he hadn't already memorized all your features; you avert your gaze back back to the crack in the wall, wishing it would swallow you whole.
"what do you do then?"
you snort, "watch porn."
"seriously?"
"seriously."
his smirk widens—if that's even fucking possible— and he leans off the wall; he takes a small, almost imperceptible step closer to you, but you still notice it. you gulp, keeping your gaze on the crack in the wall.
"and does it work?"
"sometimes, yeah"
"how often do you do that?" he moves closer, the wall is now blurry.
"when i'm really desperate to fall asleep."
"and how desperate are you now?"
you finally look at him— when did he get so fucking close?— you can smell him now; he smells like cigarettes and expensive cologne.
"desperate to fall asleep or watch porn?"
"both."
before you can answer his lips are on yours— holy shit, his lips are on yours— you're reciprocating faster than you even thought your body could physically react, your mouth moving rhythmically against his, and jesus, he's a heavenly kisser. he's pressing you back into the wall, hands all over your body; they move up and down your body, trailing down the side of your stomach, then back up your thigh, beneath your skirt; you can't control the whimper that escapes, and he fucking growls.
the door slams open.
—end
(im sorry i really wanted to finish this but it's 2am and i have to be up early 🧍♀️)
