(author’s note: The third in the Wake Up Vignette series. Improvised at 4 in the morning. Let’s see where the words take me. As always, enjoy…)
“Give me a reason not to kick you out of bed, right here, right now.”
He takes a drag of his Marlboro Light and the scent of his nicotine-stained breath fills the air. I can’t tell if he’s quietly contemplating my question, or just taking the piss out of me.
“Because you invited me here.”
“Believe me, I’m starting to regret that.”
I look at him, trying my best to … what am I doing? I can’t exactly stare him out of bed, can I? Plus, he’s completely right. I was the one who let him in. Opened the door, opened the bed and opened my legs.
If only I could open my heart for him again.
Asshole. Wanker. Tit-weasel.
“How about because I’m a great fuck?”
“Well, aren’t you firmly blowing your own horn there…”
“No, I do believe that it was you firmly blowing my own horn earlier.”
I take the pillow in my hands and scream into it. How could I possibly have forgotten how fucking exhausting and frustrating this man is?
“I will give you ten seconds to think of an actual good reason.”
He raises his head and stares at the ceiling. I have to refrain from punching him in the shoulder. This is the guy who normally never contemplates anything. All of a sudden, he has to think.
“Because we both love waking up next to each other like this. Because I still think you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, in both mind, body and soul. Because I still love you. And you still love me.”
He puts out his fag in the ashtray next to my bed and cuddles up to me.
“What makes you think I still love you?”
“I don’t have to think. I know. Deep down, I just know. The way you touch me, the way you kiss me. It’s with love. And that says enough.”
I take a deep breath. Musk and cigarettes and sweat and sex.
And I realize that this is us. And it still feels good.
I take his hand and entwine my fingers with his.
“Stay with me?”
“You don’t have to ask.” he says, kissing me on the forehead.
It’s with love.