A Prose With No Direction

urges

I wonder what the touch of a lover feels like.

It's been a while since I had someone touch me.

But the last time I was touched it wasn't of my own want.

I don't wanna die a loveless virgin in this violated world.

I don't wanna die defiled either.

Sometimes I just have the urge for a hookup.

Something that satisfies my needs but nothing I have to take care of.

I don't want a relationship.

I just want a di—

"Good morning," Hugh greets, entering my room. His lips smile as he shakes a bag of fast food in his hand. "I got you something."

I acknowledge him with a small grin as I shift myself up to sit. 

"How're you feeling?" He asks.

"Not much different from yesterday," I answer. 

"Do you still have a headache?"

I nod. "Yeah."

He takes a bottle out of his jacket. "Do you need Advil?"

I shake my head. "No, it's okay," I answer.

Silence encompasses the room of white, not much different from our encounters before. I observe him as he takes off his jacket, a thin white shirt covering his big and broad frame. 

Dammit these urges of mine.

I glance away, in case God Almighty sees these sinful eyes of mine. 

I lie on my side and turn to face the other direction.

It's been a while since I felt the touch of a lover.

I wonder when I will be able to experience that again.