What Goes Around Comes Around

Greed

"Gage..."
She's standing in the hallway. It's dark. I'm on the living room couch.
"Are you still awake?"
I reckon she knows I am. She's slurring her words so I know she's been drinking.

I sit up and look over the back of the couch at her. Her body is barely covered by a thin shiny nightie. She takes a step further into the room and the moonlight through the window makes her look unreal.

"Porter." She breathes out my name like a fucking prayer, smiling as she catches my eyes. "Come?" She nods her head in the direction of the bedroom, and her tongue sweeps along her bottom lip.

I'd like to. Fucking hell you know I'd like to. She looks like the kind of girl I dreamt about when I was a kid, now she's got me fawning over her like I'm a damn schoolboy again. I sigh and she comes closer and leans over the couch, one of her hands settling on my head. Her breath smells like vodka and nuka quantum.

I'm suddenly aware I don't have my eyepatch on when she runs her thumb along my eyebrow, tilting her head to the side, "beautiful..." I laugh coldly and her shoulders drop, "you've had too much to drink, Vanessa."

She climbs onto the couch next to me, and puts her hands on my face again. "Mmm, call me Nessie again. It sounds better." Her eyes drop to my lips, then back up to mine and if I'm being honest I feel, I don't know, vulnerable? Naked? This is bullshit man. I don't like how out of control I feel.

My eyepatch is sat on the coffee table. She notices me looking, and takes my hand, pretty much sitting on my lap. "No. I like it off." She runs her thumb along my eyelid, I wince instinctively. "Does it hurt?" "Naw. Been a long time since it happened," she raises a brow, "eh, some fuckin' idiot with a knife." She tuts and shakes her head, "still, you really don't give yourself credit for how gorgeous you are, Porter." I don't laugh this time.

She moves my hand to her face, and leans into my palm. She shivers as I graze her cheekbone with my thumb. "Why do you not want me, Porter?" "You're drunk, Nessie." "That doesn't answer my question."

I answer it by taking her face in both hands, and kissing her. It do it gentle like, 'cause I still ain't sure she really wants it. She balls up the sheet she'd given me and I shiver as she pulls it off. Her hands find my bare chest and loop around my neck, and she pulls herself into my lap properly. I break the kiss and her eyelashes flutter. She looks at me, and smiles.

"Christ, you don't know how badly I've wanted that, Porter." I shiver as she rolls her damn hips against mine, at the way she says my name as she does so. She hums, "so you did want me?" "Do. But we shouldn't, Nessie. You know that. You act slow but you ain't." Her face contorts, "why not? I might not be slow but I don't understand." That British accent drives me crazy.

"You're married. I'm... what did your friend call me? A gangbanger? You're too good for me, nuka girl." The way she gingerly touches her hand to my cheek makes my chest fucking ache, and I suppose I just ain't trust her completely still. "I'm married to a gangbanger. Is he good enough for me? Who is? And you're not taking into account what I want." "And that is?"

I should've known what she'd say next. The corners of her mouth twitched and she gave a small smile. One that actually met her eyes.

"You."

I watch as she gets up, she walks out the room, stopping in the hallway. She doesn't turn to face me when she says, "I would like for you to join me, no, I want you to. But, I do not expect it, nor should you feel obligated to." My chest feels like I've been shooting up psycho and buffout. "Oh, and I'll leave you alone after this. If you stay out here, that's it. No more sloppy flirting, like I said, I'll leave you be."