The Face is the Thing You Forget First.

The face is the thing you forget first.
Especially when it’s what you want to remember the most. You close your eyes and try to remember the lines between their eyebrows when they said something passionate to them. You dig your fingers into your temples in frustration when you try to remember how they bit their lip when you were on top. When you were on top…
• • •

“I’m really sorry for the mess. I want to say it’s not usually like this but… well.” He smiled.
She wished he’d stop. She’d asked him to but he kept going on and on about why his place was messy. Which was stupid because it wasn’t dirty. Was there a cushion on the floor and a few unwashed plates? Sure. But isn’t that what a home looks like when people live in it? That’s what hers looked like at least.

“If I’d known I was bringing you back here…”
“I’m glad you didn’t. I get to see a part of you you weren’t ready for me to see. And it’s not bad. You should see my place.”
“You’re only saying that to make me feel better.”
“I am. I’m hoping it’s working so you can stop whining. Would I be too forward if I asked where the bedroom is?”
He appeared shocked.
“No, not like that. I have seen how messy the rest of the house is, now I need to see how that other part of the house looks like in case, you know, that’s where you butcher the females you bring over.”
It wasn’t neat either.
“Who did you wrestle in here?
“The last female I butchered. Impressed?”
“Hardly. Where’s the blood? Where’s the gore? The filthy stuff!”
He laughed.

“I’m sorry that my bedroom is underwhelming in its filth, Ma’am,” he hesitated. “But since you’re here, perhaps we can fix that. Perhaps we can get it dirty together.”

Suddenly her throat was dry. Suddenly the room was five times smaller. Suddenly she was holding her breath. He moved towards her, his hand lifting her chin. Her heart thumped so hard she feared it would spook him. “It’s happening. My God, it’s finally happening” is all she could think.

And when their lips met it was with the same intensity she had been dreaming of all those months he was in her head. None of that “let’s start off slow so we find our rhythm first” she had experienced before.

This was different. And oh, was different good! So good the next thing she realized was her naked body airborne, clinging onto a body that must have been curved the same hour hers was. It’s the only logical reason it fit her so well.

She wanted to kiss every inch of it till he knew how beautiful he was. But instead he was kissing her. Her mouth. Her cheek. Her earlobe. Her neck. Her arm. Her breasts. Her stomach. Her navel… Her head was spinning. This was too good and should they never last, it would be embedded in her memory for eternity. She’d make sure of it.

• • •

The face is the thing you forget first. Especially when it’s what you want to remember most.

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