"We're going to get caught," she said. But she didn't mean it. They knew she didn't mean it. The language of the dual intoxication of red wine and lust was far more compelling.
They were in the park, hidden among the trees. It was late. It was dark, and their kiss had just exploded. Neither one of them expected to lean into the other, the overwhelming force of their mutual desire, but there they were. And this had to happen now.
They'd been having dinner, they were with a crowd, including his girl and her guy. But while everyone else needed to leave early, they put it off. When they were left alone when the last of their friends had departed, they decided to take a walk; he could be a gentleman, return to her dorm. Inspiration took them on that detour.
No one had recognized the tension, the mutual attraction they had before. No one had seen that their looks dwelled on each other, that their eyes would pause ever so slightly. No one doubted their loyalty, especially these two.
That did not stop them in the park. That did not stay the evolution of a small touch of lips to a union of mouths. That did not stop him from being able to find the nape of her neck, from her breathy sighs urging him on.
And before they had even noticed, before they had a chance to take stock of the situation, to try to look at what they were doing objectively, there they were. Before they had a chance to realize how much they wanted each other, there they were. Before they had a chance to speak to each other, to even get to know each other in the light, they knew each other in the darkness. They knew each other in the most intimate sense.
When they finished, they did not think of the future. They delighted in the moment, naked in the pine needles and leaves, clothes scattered through the trees. Instead, they dressed each other, commenting playfully about the dispersal of garments, and helping each other remove the evidences: the branches, petals, and cut grass, that clung to them.
By the time they got back to her dorm, her roommate was already there. Their laughter had subdued, had transitioned from the flirtiness of earlier to the chumminess of friends. They walked in, and she excused herself, escaping to the shower to better hide from what she did.
Her roommate, his girlfriend, saw them but didn't see. She was jealous on some primal level, but she didn't know why. What did she have to be jealous of? But she wanted him. He was hers: she had to remind him.
But as she pulled him into her bedroom and locked the door behind them, she still noticed the smell of damp earth, the leaves, the fresh summer outdoors. But she was silent about it and he did not say a word.
