Maisy

Chapter 3: Maisy

When we were alone again next I regretted not having blatantly admitted to touching his cock.  I hadn't thought of much else since. Not in the mornings between my sheets recalling how it felt when his hands pressed my hips down atop it.  Hadn't stopped gazing at it longingly on press days as he watched over me. Hadn't spent nights remembering how it seemed long and thick, even being all bounded up and restricted beneath his jeans.  I was recalling today's particular morning of thoughts and festivities when I realized Jon had just spoken to me. I looked at his cheek, down his body, and wondered what he'd say if I told him I enjoyed touching myself while thinking about his cock.

"What?" I giggled. 

"How are you?"

"I could use some good sleep."

"Me, too."

"How long til we get there?" 

"Ugh, 44 minutes."

"Okay."  

He was in all black, slick like oil, like the ocean at night.  He was driving me to a meeting across town, he sat tall in the seat, hands readjusting on the steering wheel.  His knuckles seemed to be going white.

"What's wrong?"  I asked.

"Nothing."

"What are you thinking?"

"Nothing."

"Really?"

"Really."

"How? You have to be thinking something!" I pressed.

"Well I'm not."

"I think you're lying."

"Why would I lie?"

"Because it's easier."  He looked at me.

"What are you thinking?" He asked.

How you look like the sea at night, and how that scares me, and how night is 12, and 12 is green because 1 is yellow and 2 is blue.  How I just want you to keep talking, and maybe you'd let me feel the fabric of your shirt, or touch your scar, or let you touch mine.  I was thinking how could I tell you all of this? Any of this? And I looked at Jon again, because if I expected the truth from him who was I to keep it all inside?

"Not as easy as it seems."  He commented.

"No, well I think it's difficult in a different way.  I'm not trying to think of something to say, I'm trying to figure out what thought matters enough to be worth sharing."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you claim you had no thoughts.  I'm the exact opposite. I have so many thoughts all at once.  Like for example, I was thinking your jacket looks like the ocean at night and night is 12 and 12 is green because 1 is yellow and 2 is blue, but none of that matters, so under that I was thinking I just want us to keep talking and I want to touch your scar, but also now it's like, I just realized your aura changes to pale orange when we are alone and I wear wore vanilla perfume today and vanilla is a pale orange 3.  So you're a 3 and I'm a 5 and 8 just happens to be my lucky number."

"And what color is 8?"

"Blue!"  I giggled, pleased.

"Your head seems intense." He chuckled as well.

"Just when I try to explain it.  Most of it happens without it having to be processed."

"Does it keep you up at night?"

"Sometimes.  What keeps you up at night?"

He spit out a bit of air, then surprisingly, answered, "mostly my time in the military.  Sometimes things from my adolescence. Sometimes things from my future."

"I worry a lot.  I worry a lot about the future.  I used to worry a lot about just being so tiny of an influence on anything that I couldn't find any self worth, now I worry that with my new voice I'll just fuck this… chance up."

"I doubt that."

"You doubt that?"

"Yeah, I doubt that.  You've already done such good." 

"It's so little though."  I shrugged.

"You have to start somewhere."

"I thought maybe you didn't see me."  I quietly admitted. 

"What do you mean?"

"Like, I thought you just ignored me, like not your job duties or that stuff, but I just figured you didn't care to know who I was."

"Maisy.  You're impossible for anyone to ignore."

"Stop! That's so gross!"

"So you want me to see you or that's gross?"  He threw me a glance and a smile, which he seemed to immediately regret, because he straightened his back in thought. 

I rolled my eyes.

"Wait.  Did you say you wanted to touch my scar?"  He started laughing. Like loud laughing. Like I didn't think he could ever be so happy, laughing.

"It looks smooth!" I defended myself while the laughter continued.  He was bright orange when he laughed and I laughed along with him.

Once we'd both quieted and breathed, I leaned in near Jon as he drove, he sensed my movement and while keeping his eyes on the road, drew in and out quick shallows breaths through his nose.  When he remained still for a moment, I slowly ran my thumb across his scar. It was as smooth as I'd dreamed, and I closed my eyes as my hand fell and I popped my thumb between my teeth.

"Sometimes I wish I just saw things in black and white."  I said through closed eyes.

"Wish that you saw things in black and white or wish that things were just already that way?"

"Both...  Neither."