Prompt Word- Guilty, Title- The Aftermath In Waves
Written for the 10 Minute Writing Challenge at hitRECord
The first wave comes hard and fast. It crashes over me just as the clench releases from my thighs and my gasps become quiet, shuddering breathes into the darkness. I roll over into the empty space beside me. I fall asleep with traces of my own release on my fingertips and an ache so familiar that I almost think I would miss it if it was gone.
The second wave always crashes harder the next day. It happens as his hand curls around his coffee mug. The sight jolts me back to what I had imagined those same long, thick fingers doing to me the night before. The third wave follows quickly behind the second as his lips quirk into a small welcoming smile. My skin blushes hotly as I remember what I thought those lips might taste like only hours before.
The fourth wave hits so softly that I almost miss it. It breaks across my skin as he kisses a girl that is not me. I know that is supposed to be like that. He will never know that the soft graze is enough to decimate me from across the room.
The fifth wave threatens just as the darkness closes around me for the night. The phantom ghosting of his fingertips across the belly and his lips in my hair chase the wave away. I hear his voice drown out the crashing of guilt and shame and longing. I hear him and I feel him. It's almost real and in that moment almost is enough.
And again, the first wave comes hard and fast.
The first wave comes hard and fast. It crashes over me just as the clench releases from my thighs and my gasps become quiet, shuddering breathes into the darkness. I roll over into the empty space beside me. I fall asleep with traces of my own release on my fingertips and an ache so familiar that I almost think I would miss it if it was gone.
The second wave always crashes harder the next day. It happens as his hand curls around his coffee mug. The sight jolts me back to what I had imagined those same long, thick fingers doing to me the night before. The third wave follows quickly behind the second as his lips quirk into a small welcoming smile. My skin blushes hotly as I remember what I thought those lips might taste like only hours before.
The fourth wave hits so softly that I almost miss it. It breaks across my skin as he kisses a girl that is not me. I know that is supposed to be like that. He will never know that the soft graze is enough to decimate me from across the room.
The fifth wave threatens just as the darkness closes around me for the night. The phantom ghosting of his fingertips across the belly and his lips in my hair chase the wave away. I hear his voice drown out the crashing of guilt and shame and longing. I hear him and I feel him. It's almost real and in that moment almost is enough.
And again, the first wave comes hard and fast.