For 16 years, Lisa is living under the name of her twin sister, Reese. She didn't have a name to keep. Reese is not born healthy and as her twin sister, Lisa became the source of her sister's life for years. The only identity that she can keep is be...
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I am staring at Lisa beside me, her hair covering her chest as she continues playing with my hands. That ring I gave her that night by the sea is still there. There's nothing covering our naked bodies but the gray cover sheets of my bed. The room is dark but I can clearly see how beautiful she is with those lamps on the corners of the bedroom ceiling. I shifted my weight on my elbows to reach for her lips again. My hand cupped her cheek to pull her closer. She didn't took a moment to respond. The sound of our lips kissing and our heavy breaths are the only thing I wanted to hear for now. Not the lies, the pretentions and the betrayals.
We don't need to say anything. I think it's even better to leave all things unspoken. Or else we'll end up hurting each other again. I wanted her so bad but it's hard to love her. Is there even a better way to love someone? A formula perhaps? A manual? Because if we are doing it right, it shouldn't hurt like this.
I shifted my weight over her, my hand leading her head back to the pillows. My other hand touching her thigh as she gets her leg on my hip. My lips made their way to plant wet kisses on her jaw, down to her neck. I suck her skin, leaving my territory marks. She gasps, her nails digging on my hip as I move against her. I hummed when I felt her hand gripped on the hair on my nape. I looked up to her, only to realize her eyes is glistening with tears. She did not let me stare at her and pulled my face to kiss her lips again. My hand made their way to her hips, rubbing myself against her. She released a soft moan against my lips while her fingers rakes down my back, asking for more.
I gripped on the headboard to lift myself from her. I kneeled before her, legs spread wide for me. I lead myself slowly inside her. She rolled her eyes back and then closing them firmly as she feels me slowly moving against her. Her eyebrows furrowed, parting her lips as I continued moving inside her. She lifted her hand to reach for me but I only took her hand to lead it to my lips for a kiss.
"Hold me, please.." She whispered. I lowered myself over her, resting my elbow on her both sides. I kissed her parted lips, soft whimpers escaping from them every time I hardly thrust inside her. I can't even tell how many times I touched her. And every time we do, we restrain ourselves from saying what we both have in mind. The language we share is not made of words, or lies or truths, for that matter. Just me and her, tangled over the sheets of my bed speaks louder than our own voice. The sound of the creaking bed against the wooden floor, our sinful moans and pleasured heavy breaths is more than enough. Her smell against her pillow and those strands of hair I unpurposely pulled from her head scattered over my bed is like a tattoo left against a soft clear skin that is meant to stay forever.
Before I could forget, I pointed a gun against her chest. If I hadn't pulled it away, I could've killed her tonight. She is full of lies, full of masks and I can't even tell what am I going to believe at this point. She told me she loves me but then she'll say this was just a good fuck. She'll beg me to touch her but then she'll tell me she never loved me. She'll ask for me to call her with her real name but none of the things she did are real. Everything she did, it's all for a fucking race.
