"Sometimes I wonder when you sleep. Are you ever dreaming of me? Sometimes when I look into your eyes, I pretend you're mine all the damn time." -T.S.
The laughter continued around me as the ice pack began to melt and my once sweaty body was beginning to creep its way to my nostrils. I shifted on my stool a bit, my ankle did feel better but I still couldn't put my full weight on it. Marshall and Dani had finally gone to bed, leaving Justin and I in the kitchen to deal with my injury.
"I really want to shower, I hope I'm able to stand on it long enough cause I stink and can't put this off any longer." I laughed as I began trying to stand up. Justin was sitting on a stool over, smirking playfully as he watched me struggle.
He stood up from his stool and walked over to me with his arm extended out for mine. "Let me help you." His words were soft but his tone firm. His hand met mine and I put my weight on him as I stumbled across the kitchen.
"Yeah no. We're not doing this." He said as he turned to me and without skipping a beat he picked me up. "At least for now let me carry you. Tomorrow I'll let you figure it out." After a beat of hesitation, I nodded and wrapped my arms around his shoulders and neck as he carried me bridal style up the steps and to my room.
He set me down on the bed as he rustled through my suitcase. "What do you want to wear to bed?"
I didn't fight him on the help he was giving me, because it was a losing battle. I pointed at a tank top and pajama bottoms that were tucked in the corner of my suitcase. He pulled them out one by one, as well as a pair of underwear.
"I'll be right back. I'm gonna go grab my clothes," he said as he set my clothes on the bed.
"Your clothes for?" I asked. I assumed he was going to shower with me but a part of me wanted to hear him say it out loud.
He gave me a half annoyed, half playful look. "I stink too, figured we could save water by showering together." He let out a sharp laugh knowing how corny it sounded but again I didn't fight him on it.
"Go get your clothes," I reached and tossed a pillow at him but he dodged it just in time. As he walked out the door I sat there quietly waiting for him. Trying to gather all my thoughts, trying to still my fast beating heart. These are the moments I'd miss most.
He walked back in with his clothes in his arms, locking my bedroom door behind him. An easy smile spread across his face as he set his clothes down on the edge of the bed next to mine.
"Alright let's get you into the tub." His arms wrapped around my waist as I lifted myself off the bed. I put some weight on my foot and it stung less but I knew he wouldn't budge. He was going to help me whether I liked it or not. And truth be told…I kinda liked it.
We walked into the bathroom and Justin helped me sit at the edge of the tub. He turned the faucet on and played with the temperature as I started taking my clothes off. I turned my back to undress, even though he'd seen everything already. It felt different this time. Softer. Quieter. Like I didn't want to break whatever spell we'd fallen under.
And when the bathtub hit the halfway point I slipped into the water letting the warmth pool around my body. He walked over and grabbed all of my shower stuff, setting it on the edge of the tub when he came back. He took off his clothes and began settling behind me as the water continued to flow.
I could feel his warm body press against my back as I relaxed into him. I didn't want to think about anything at this point, I just wanted to turn my brain off and live in these final moments together. I think he caught on because he just slid his hands on my waist and for a while we just let the sound of the tub being filled be the only noise between us.
Then I felt him reach forward. The water came to a halt, the silence deepening. His arms brushed mine as he shifted himself to lean back, pulling me back with him. He pushed my hair to one side and placed a soft kiss on the nape of my neck. The warmth of his lips sent little shocks down my spine. Still we said nothing. But I felt everything.
I dipped my head back enough to wet my hair, the water felt nice dripping down my sides. I didn't realize how flushed my face was until right now. Justin cupped water in his hand and he helped me wet my hair a bit more. Then I heard the soft click of a bottle cap opening, and before I could ask, his fingers were in my hair.
I stiffened, not because I didn't want it, but because I did.
His touch was slow. Gentle. He lathered the shampoo like it was a ritual, not a chore. Each motion dragged something loose in my chest, something I'd been trying to keep tucked away for days.
And I hated him a little for how easily he could unravel me without even realizing it.
His thumbs swept over my scalp in careful circles, down behind my ears, then back again. And I just… let him. I let him cradle my head like it meant something. Like I meant something.
It wasn't the sex. It wasn't even the bathtub.
It was the way he handled me, like I was something worth being gentle with.
I closed my eyes and leaned back into his chest, trying to steady my breathing. Trying not to cry. Because who cries when someone washes their hair?
Apparently, I do.
And the worst part? He didn't say a word. Just rinsed me quietly, shielding my eyes with one hand like he'd done this before. Like he'd always known how to take care of me, even when I didn't know how to let him.
When he finally leaned down, whispering, "You okay?" I couldn't trust myself to speak. I just nodded and swallowed hard, anchoring myself in the weight of his hands, the silence, the water.
This…this was the moment I'd miss most. He made me feel small but not in an insignificant kind of way. In the way that begs to be seen, begs to be taken care, begs to be…loved. I didn't know how to be 'that' for Erik. I wasn't even sure how to let him in. I wasn't sure how to let him take care of me.
But Justin. Justin didn't wait for permission to take care of me. He just did it. And somehow I always let him.
His fingers slowed, the last of the suds rinsing from my hair as he gently squeezed the water from the ends. I could feel his breath at the back of my neck, steady and warm, like he was anchoring both of us in the quiet.
I turned my head just enough to see him, and like always, his eyes were already on me, guarded but soft, like he didn't know what to say and wasn't sure he was allowed to say it anyway.
So I said it for him.
I twisted in the water, just enough to face him. My leg brushed his, my fingers found the curve of his jaw, and I kissed him.
Not with urgency. Not with heat.
But slower. More dangerous. Something that felt a little too much like love…
His lips met mine without hesitation, and the way he kissed me back, it wasn't careful or casual. It was real. The kind of kiss that asks a question it's too afraid to voice.
I pulled away first, just a breath apart, my forehead resting against his. "You didn't have to do all that," I whispered, unsure if I was talking about the kiss or the way he'd taken care of me.
He didn't answer right away. He just brushed a damp strand of hair from my face, his thumb trailing against my cheek. "Yeah," he murmured. "I did."
I closed my eyes for a second, breathing him in, knowing this wasn't sustainable. Knowing we couldn't keep doing this. But in this moment, after a kiss like that, God, did I want to.
So I kissed him again. I kissed him like I couldn't stop myself. Because I already knew this was one of the last times I'd get to.
And when I pulled away, his eyes didn't chase mine. He just stayed close, like moving would make it real.
I leaned back against his chest again, resting my head under his chin. We stayed like that for a minute or five, maybe ten, until I felt my voice try to make the moment normal.
"So," I murmured, "what's the over-under on how many unread emails I'm walking into when we get back?"
He let out a low breath, half a laugh, like he was grateful for the change in subject. "I'm already dreading the Teams notifications. I bet half of them are Mallory tagging everyone about lunch plans."
"Oh god." I groaned. "I'm not emotionally stable enough for group lunches right now."
"You're never emotionally stable for group lunches."
"Yeah, well. Now I have a limp. I'm officially excused."
He chuckled, his chin brushing the top of my head. "You gonna fake a limp through Q3?"
"If I have to."
He didn't say anything after that. His arms just stayed around me a little longer, and I didn't pull away. We just stayed where we were, pretending everything else didn't matter.
Eventually, I shifted, turning around in the water so I could lean back against the opposite end of the tub. The porcelain was cool against my spine, a jolt against the warm bathwater. I stretched out my leg, letting it float halfway between us, my toes brushing his stomach.
He didn't say anything, he just caught my foot under the water and cradled it gently in his hands.
His thumbs moved in slow circles around my ankle, working over the tenderness with careful pressure. The heat of the bath mixed with the ache in a strange way that made my chest feel tight. Not from pain. I watched him, how focused he was on something so small. Like this was just another thing he knew how to carry. Because from here it was like taking care of me came as naturally as breathing.
He didn't meet my eyes at first, just kept working, quiet, and thoughtful. But eventually, he glanced up.
I felt a small shy smile lift at the corners of my lips, and his smile crept up the same. He didn't stop massaging my ankle. So I just let him hold my foot in his hands and pretend that maybe, in some other version of this life, this was normal. This was ours.
Until finally I knew I had to break this tension. "Okay," I said, half-laughing, "you're way too good at that. Do you secretly moonlight as a physical therapist when you're not bossing everyone around at work?"
Justin smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching. "What, you thought these hands were just for decoration?"
I rolled my eyes, tipping my head against the edge of the tub. "You're lucky I'm injured or I'd splash you right now."
He put extra pressure on my ankle causing me to yelp. "Ow!" My ankle twitched in his hold causing me to splash him regardless.
He smiled playfully, but flicked water back at me. I don't want to have to clean up a water mess so I just shook my head laughing.
"The good thing is you didn't break or fracture anything. You'll just have to be patient and let it heal." He let out a long sigh, and smiled. "Guess you can't go on that hike with your not-boyfriend tomorrow." His smile turned into a devilish grin, I rolled my eyes and laughed.
"Guess not." I flicked water at him again with my hand and he just laughed the same.
He gave me that lazy, smug look, the one that always meant trouble. "I mean it's not my fault. You wanted me to make you howl at the moon."
I groaned and covered my face with both hands. "You and Dani need to be banned from that word forever."
"She's not wrong," he said, nudging my foot under the water. "You had fun."
I peeked at him between my fingers. "I did."
There was a beat of quiet, the water sloshing gently between us.
"Even with the sprain?"
"Even with the sprain..." I said softly, letting my hands drop. "It was reckless. And impulsive. And a lot of fucking fun."
Justin nodded, his thumb tracing a slow arc along the bone of my ankle. "You might not be known for being impulsive but I'd like to think I broke you down a little. You were…pretty impulsive this whole trip." His smirk stayed perfectly in place.
I stared at him as he continued running his fingers along my foot. Until I pulled my foot down, letting it slip back into the water.
"No, I've never really been impulsive. Not until you strolled along…" I said, and that flutter rose in my chest again, the one that came with too much honesty. I swirled my fingers through the water, redirecting the energy. "Anyway, now you've got another thing off of your list, you definitely had the best luck on this trip."
"How so?" He smirked, knowing the answering but wanting to hear it out loud.
"Well for starters you're in Hawaii, the happiest place in America. And second…" my own smile turned into a deep smirk, "you had not one but two hot girls in bikinis available at your whim."
He shook his head and laughed, extending his hand out for mine. I reached for his hand and he pulled me back into him. I let myself melt in his chest once more as he wrapped his arms tightly around me. Placing a soft kiss on the back of my head.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." He said, and I could feel his chest rise and fall behind me as I sank deeper in his hold. "But only one of them is the star of my wet dreams."
I couldn't stop the cackle that escaped my mouth and he couldn't stop his low chuckle. "Shut up!" I squealed as I shifted slightly to face him. The grin on his face sent a small flutter in my stomach and I quickly looked away. It was strange feeling shy around him all of a sudden, especially being naked in a bath with him holding me. I rolled my eyes and faced forward again.
Eventually, the water began to get cold, the once vibrant bubbles wilted into lazy foam between us. Neither of us said anything but I felt it, the moment slipping.
Justin lightly tapped me in the shoulder, I turned to face him, his smile looked sadder than before. "Alright, time to get you dry before you catch a cold."
I sighed, not quite ready yet. But I nodded.
He stood first, grabbing the nearest towel and wrapping it low around his waist. Then he reached down for me. "Come here."
I let him help lift me from the tub, my body slick against his arms. He held me there for a second longer than necessary, like he wasn't ready either, then reached for a fresh towel. He knelt in front of me and started to blot the water from my skin, slow, careful. He worked his way from my calves up, wrapping the towel around me with a tenderness that made something ache deep in my ribcage.
"I can do that," I murmured.
"I know," he said simply, not stopping.
He helped me sit on the closed toilet lid, then crouched in front of me again, patting down my arms, my shoulders, gently drying my hair with another towel like I was something fragile. When he reached for the lotion I always used and started rubbing it into my ankle, my throat tightened.
"I'm surprised at how good of a caretaker you are." I said, trying to lighten the tension around us.
He looked up at me for a brief second, his expression unreadable. "Uh, yeah. I used to take care of my mom when my dad would…yeah."
Hearing those words come out of his mouth, shattered my heart in half and I could tell he was just as broken about having to say them.
"Oh," I didn't know what else to say, what else was there to say? Knowing that he had to take care of his mom when his dad would beat her senseless.
That silence came again, dense and charged, but after a moment he padded back to the bedroom and came back with my pajamas in hand. He held them up like offerings, shaking them out before handing me the tank top. I slipped it over my head, he watched cautiously. After that, my underwear, I slid them on without issue.
Next were my pajama bottoms, I stood up slowly, and when I fumbled he turned back and kneeled again. Helping guide the fabric over my legs, careful not to tug too hard on my sore ankle. It should've felt awkward. It didn't. It felt like something ancient and true. Like trust.
Once I was dressed, he helped me stand again, then scooped me into his arms one last time.
"You're enjoying this way too much," I teased, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He grinned. "What, you think I'm gonna let you hobble around when I can carry you like a princess? Not a chance."
"A princess?!" I laughed as he began walking back into the room.
"Princess August, your carriage awaits." He said as he set me down on the bed, pulling the sheets back and tucking them gently around me. I suppressed my giggle as he walked back to the bathroom, changing into his own pajamas in the low bathroom light, then turning them off as he made his way back. He slid into bed beside me, the mattress dipping gently under his weight, shifting like he belonged there.
Because, for now, he did.
For a second, we just laid there, the only sound between us was the soft hush of the ceiling fan and the distant echo of waves outside the window. He didn't say anything, he just lifted his arm and let it fall naturally around my waist, pulling me into his chest like it was instinct.
I didn't fight it. Not this. I tucked my face into the warm place where his shoulder met his chest, and there it was…his heartbeat, fast and steady, thumping against my cheek like it had something to say.
"You okay?" he murmured, lips close to my hair.
"Mhm," I breathed. "I like listening to your heart. It's loud."
"You're loud," he said, but his voice was soft, teasing.
"Only sometimes," I whispered, a little laugh escaping us.
We settled into the quiet again. And then, maybe because I was so relaxed, or maybe because I was curious or maybe because I knew, my hand slipped lower. Just past his stomach. Just far enough to graze something undeniably hard, pulsing softly beneath his shorts.
I froze. Then smirked.
"Well," I said slowly, dragging my fingertips back up to his ribs. "This is a little greedy of you. I mean, after the stars and the moonlight? Didn't we get all that out of our system?"
He huffed out a laugh, one arm still snug around my waist. "You try having you pressed up against me and try not getting hard. It's like a survival reflex at this point."
"Survival? " I repeated with a grin. "That's what we're calling it now?"
He turned slightly so we were face to face, his hand sliding up to rest against the small of my back. "What do you want me to say, August? That it's hard not being hard around you? Especially when you do that little thing with your lips, or when you touch me like you don't even mean to?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Do I do something with my lips?"
He stared at them for a beat. "You know exactly what you're doing."
I didn't respond. I just leaned in and kissed him, slowly, like a secret. No urgency. No destination. Just mouths meeting and parting and coming back together like we'd done this a hundred times, in a hundred other lives, and never quite got it right.
He exhaled through his nose, his hand tightening ever so slightly on my back. I pressed closer. He tasted like mint and heat and every goodbye we hadn't said yet.
The kiss deepened. He didn't push, just followed me, met me, matching every move with that dreamy, lazy kind of rhythm that made my heart knock against his. The moment continued to stretch out, unhurried. Like neither of us wanted to be the first to stop.
I felt his fingers slide under the edge of the tank top he'd help me into just minutes earlier. His fingertips gently grazed the warm skin of my back, goosebumps forming seconds after. I didn't pull away. I didn't remind him that this was supposed to be casual, temporary. Because it was right? It was. But when he kissed me like that, and held me like this, it just didn't feel like it.
I shifted closer, letting my leg slide over his. He sucked in a quiet breath through his nose, and I felt the way his muscles tensed under me. Like he was trying to hold himself back, like he knew this was dangerous, and still didn't care.
"You good?" he murmured, lips brushing mine like he didn't want to stop kissing me even to ask.
I nodded, my forehead resting against his. "Yeah. Just… don't go anywhere yet."
His hand moved to my thigh, slow and grounding. "Wasn't planning on it."
The way he said it… I knew better than to read into it. But it still made something twist low in my stomach. We didn't talk after that. We didn't need to.
His kisses grew deeper, his hands more confident. But the pace never rushed. This wasn't about urgency. It was about staying. About holding onto something that we both swore wasn't anything, and still somehow was everything.
His fingers found the waistband of my bottoms and hovered there, waiting. My eyes met his in the low light. No words. Just that look, the kind that made it feel like we'd done this forever, even though we were always pretending it didn't mean anything.
I nodded once, barely.
He peeled the fabric away like he was unwrapping something fragile. And maybe I was. Maybe we both were.
Still, I reached for the hem of his shirt next. Still, he let me.
Our lips barely separated as he slowly lifted my tank top over my head. A small laugh came out of my mouth, I finally pulled away just long enough to talk. "Why did we bother putting clothes on if we knew we were going to end up here."
He placed one more kiss on my lips. "Because…" another kiss. "We like to pretend this is going to end but we both know..." his lips, now tasting my neck. "It never does."
His hands were on my stomach and within seconds they were slipping a little lower, and I gave in to the soft, helpless noise rising in my chest. His movements were slower, and more deliberate than ever before. His mouth found mine again as he controlled my breathing with his fingers. Coaxing me just enough to make me want and need more.
My own fingers gripped onto his shoulder, my nails embedding themselves as the moment stretched between us. I moved my leg up further trying to pull myself on top of him but he stopped me. We pulled away from each other. My eyes searched for the answer to his hesitation, his hand slipping out and onto my hips, pushing me so I was flat on my back.
He hesitated for a second and sat up. I thought maybe he realized we had taken this too far once again and this time he wasn't willing to keep going anymore. But instead he reached over to the nightstand, turning the lamp on and opening the drawer. I could hear the rustling of the condom and seconds later he was hovering over me.
My eyes flicked to the lamp, suggesting to turn it off but he just nodded no. I could see the way he was looking at me, I could feel how fleeting the moment was. His lips crashed back into mine and I was immersed back into him. Back into us. And back into knowing time was running out.
His hands traveled to my thighs, guiding my hips towards him. My body tensed as he slowly moved inch by inch. He leaned in enough to meet my lips as he moved tenderly above me, drawing out each motion, buying us more time.
"Justin, oh fuck," my body spoke before I could, his name slipping past my tongue. His hand held my body up enough so my legs could wrap around his, holding myself up as his movements kept on, more measured than ever before. Arching my back enough to feel everything.
The way he watched me… like I was something he found once and never wanted to lose. Like the sound I made, the way I moved under him, was more than he was ready for.
Our lips separated for a beat. "You ruin me August, it's fucking unreal." His devotion to my moans felt like a prayer, and my body was the altar. Being led by blind faith. And he did it so good, the words I love you nearly slipped out. He was leaving me so breathless I feared I'd never come back from this.
For a moment I forgot everything, my entire world falling apart weeks ago, every heartbreak I'd ever felt, every tear I'd ever shed. If he hadn't spoken my name I would've forgotten that too. Because he touched me like I was breakable. Like every part of me mattered. This almost felt like a promise we'd finally keep or like a heaven we'd never see.
His rhythm persisted as we slowly started getting closer to the edge. His name tore out of me again, raw but uneasy, and his grip tightened like he needed something to hold onto, like I was the only thing keeping him from falling apart too.
Our bodies moved together like they'd done many times before, but something about this time felt different. Felt final.
His thrusts now were feeling deeper, more desperate. My chest began tightening, my legs quivered around him. My nails scratched his back as I started to come undone but it wasn't like before. It didn't happen all at once, not like thunder. But like the waves being controlled by a full moon, slowly at first and then crashing against the shore with a rage like never before. My whole body shattered around him, with him, for him. But my body shook with more than just release, it trembled like it had held too much for too long, and now it didn't know what to do with the emptiness he was leaving behind.
He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath stuttering as he whispered something I couldn't even catch, maybe my name, maybe a prayer, maybe a goodbye he didn't want to say.
And that was it.
He followed right after, like it was muscle memory, like he'd been waiting for me to fall first. Like he always would. His body collapsed over mine, but he didn't move right away. He let my hips fall back onto the bed and he hovered over me. My breath was shaking in his lips, and it wasn't until we kissed again that I tasted a tear that had fallen from my eye. Not from pain. Not from pleasure. But from the terrifying, beautiful feeling that maybe… maybe this was more than I could handle.
He held me like he knew it too. Like he felt it. Like he wanted to stay inside that moment just a little longer. Maybe forever. But nothing lasts forever, does it?
'Cause this was the end. Even if we did it again after. Even if we woke up in each other's arms.
This was the moment I lost him.
He finally gathered the strength to pull himself off of me but not before kissing me one more time. His lips gently grazed mine as he moved to lay next to me and I tried wiping the tears that followed. I didn't mean to cry. And before I could let him see more tears, I sat up throwing my legs over the side of the bed, facing away from him.
"August, is everything alright?" He asked so casually, so calmly like we weren't trying to catch our breaths still. I sat there quietly for a moment, not wanting to answer him, I wasn't even sure I could. Not without my voice betraying me.
I took one more deep breath and I prayed my shaky voice would be steady enough to answer him. "Yeah," it betrayed me with one word. "I have to go to the bathroom." I whispered because it wouldn't come out any louder.
"Oh, okay. Let me help you." He shot up out of bed and walked over to my side, my head hung low, I couldn't face him.
"Please don't carry me, I want to try to walk." My voice came out sturdier this time. And as much as he probably didn't want to, he took my hand and I slowly walked to the bathroom.
He let me take care of my business, and stood against the door frame facing away from me. But he was attentive, the minute I flushed and hobbled over to the sink, he was already right behind me, holding me up by my waist.
We walked back over to the bed, he helped me back into the sheets and he walked back to the bathroom. I didn't bother getting dressed, whether he stayed or not I was going to lay in the wake of everything we were and everything we weren't. I tucked myself further into my bed and laid there quietly. I felt another tear slide from my eye and into my ear.
I didn't move. I didn't blink. I just listened, to the toilet flushing, to the floor creaking underneath his steps, to the sound of everything falling apart and no one saying a word about it. I heard his footsteps get closer and seconds later I felt the bed move as he laid down.
"You sure you're okay?" He whispered, he took the blanket and I felt him lay close to me.
I was laying down facing away from him, still trying to gather myself. I don't know why I was crying. I don't know why I couldn't stop. But what I did know was I didn't want him to see me like this. I willed words to come out but they wouldn't. I took deep breaths, I felt him inch closer, his hand lightly grazed my waist but he pulled away in the same second.
"I'm fine…" Finally words started coming out of my mouth. "It feels more real now. The trip is about to end and I'm not ready for reality." My voice was still shaky but this time I didn't stop. I laid flat on my back, staring at the ceiling fan. Trying to control all of the emotions I kept bottled up.
He didn't say anything right away. Just exhaled quietly, like he was holding in something too. Maybe his own goodbye. Maybe the same weight I felt. Instead he just reached to wipe the new tear that streamed down the side of my face.
"Can you hold me?" I asked, I didn't want to be alone. Not yet at least.
Again, no words were spoken. His arms extended out and he wrapped himself around me. His arm cradled my neck, while his other arm slipped between my arm and my waist. Pulling me into his chest, feeling his bare skin against mine. And I let him hold me like that until my breath matched his. Until I could pretend, for just a second, that we hadn't broken something we'd never be able to fix.
I moved my head enough to finally meet his eyes, and they said more than his words could. My sadness was contagious. And it was written all over his face. He placed one small kiss on my forehead and a smile cracked through his unreadable expression.
"Justin?" I whispered.
"Yeah?"
"You're pressing really hard on my ankle and it hurts," I let out a breathy laugh and immediately his leg shifted away.
"Oh! My bad, I didn't realize it. I'm sorry." He let out a small laugh. "We should probably get you Advil," A small smile cracked between his lips. "I'll get you some in a bit, I'm enjoying this a little too much right now."
"Yeah, me too." I whispered my confession, so quiet that maybe he didn't hear it. Part of me hoped he didn't.
We laid quietly for a second until he pulled away slowly, brushing a kiss to my collarbone before slipping out of bed.
"Don't move," he said softly, grabbing his shorts from the floor. "I'll be right back."
I furrowed my brow but nodded. He disappeared into the hallway. I sat up, wrapping the sheet around me. The room was quiet except for the waves outside and the pounding of my heart.
A minute later, the door creaked open and there he was, barefoot, grinning, holding a champagne bottle like he'd just stolen it.
"Is that—?"
"From the plane," he said, lifting it like a trophy. "You didn't think I'd let this go to waste, did you?"
I laughed, shaking my head, as I sat up and leaned back on the headboard, pulling the sheets up to my chest. "You're ridiculous."
"You're welcome," he said, stepping back inside smiling like it was some grand occasion.
"What are we celebrating?" I asked.
He paused, holding my gaze a second too long.
"To an amazing vacation. To sprained ankles. To..." He hesitated for a second. "To you." The last word he said barely above a whisper.
He twisted the cap off and handed it to me first, I took a small sip, grimacing at the awful taste.
"I have yet to enjoy champagne," I shook my head, sticking my tongue out like if the air would take the taste away and handed him the bottle.
He took a long sip and laughed. "To be fair this is awful champagne. So that might not be entirely on you."
"I can't believe you kept the bottle, from our very eventful flight." I watched him as he took another long drawn out sip.
"How could I not, it was from our honeymoon flight." He laughed louder and passed the bottle back to me.
The laugh that escaped was louder than it should've been. " Oh my God, I completely forgot you told the flight attendant it was our honeymoon. I should've known you were trouble from that moment."
"Yeah well I should've known you were trouble the minute you batted your pretty little teary eyes at me." His hand reached out and he pushed my hair behind my ear. "I remember seeing you so heartbroken in your seat… I just, I know we had a difficult work relationship, I just wanted to do everything I could to make everything better. But man, you're trouble."
"More trouble than it's worth?" I asked jokingly, but the look on his face told me he was going to answer it.
"Way more trouble than it's worth, but I wouldn't change a thing."
I laughed into the rim of the bottle before taking another sip, bitter, sharp, awful. "Me either. Well, maybe the falling-on-the-trail part I'd change. But the rest…" I trailed off, shaking my head. I didn't need to finish. He already knew.
I handed him the bottle and he finished off the little bit that was left. We sat quietly on the bed just watching each other's next move. And in that moment I wanted to kiss him again, to remind myself what he tasted like one last time but I couldn't move. I didn't let myself make that move. I knew exactly where it would lead—and we'd just barely climbed out of it.
He could sense my hesitation. He looked at me like he didn't want to let the moment pass, like if he blinked it'd disappear. And maybe it would. Maybe it had to.
So I leaned in anyway. My lips met his again. His hands cupped my face and my body leaned closer to him naturally.
It wasn't wild. It wasn't needy. It was slow. Familiar.
He kissed me like he knew it was the last time. Like he didn't want to forget the shape of it, the way I tasted in that moment. I felt the exact same. I kissed him. I let myself fall once more. His hand met the small of my back as he brought me closer.
And when we pulled apart, neither of us smiled.
We just looked at each other.
Like two people who'd built something fragile and beautiful, knowing damn well it would never survive the daylight.
I was the first to break the silence. "We uhh should probably go to sleep, it's getting really late, plus we got a big day tomorrow." I whispered it like a line from a script. Like if I said it soft enough, I wouldn't have to believe it.
"Right." He sighed and shifted slightly on the bed.
I looked around the room trying to deflect some of the awkwardness I was feeling. "I should probably get my pajamas on," I said, not moving.
He nodded.
I hesitated, then added, voice barely above a whisper, "Are you… gonna stay?"
He looked at me. That same unreadable expression. Like I'd asked a much bigger question. He didn't say anything at first. I felt like he was either going to say no or he was truly debating it. He had spent the night almost every night since we got here. And truthfully it felt weird asking because before he stayed because we would just fall asleep after having sex. Sometimes he would stay because we were talking all night. Other times he would stay but sneak out in the middle of the night when I was deep asleep.
But this time, it felt different. The energy in the room was different. This time required me to ask him if he was going to stay. Part of me wanted him to. I couldn't lie about that. But the other part of me, well I knew the morning would be easier if he wasn't lying next to me.
He paused for a beat longer until finally. "Are you gonna bat your pretty little teary eyes at me to stay?" He finally cracked a smirk, the one that makes my stomach flutter, the one that got us here in the first place.
"Depends…are you gonna make my pretty little eyes teary?"
He smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes now. "Depends… are you gonna let me kiss them better if I do?"
I covered my face with my hands, laughing despite myself. "Not this again! You know how horrible it was to get those text messages from you with Hannah a few feet in front of me!" I grabbed a pillow and started hitting him with it. He let out a sharp laugh and tried blocking each hit.
"Okay okay! I surrender! I'm sorry, I apologize." He said as he grabbed the pillow from my hands. "Now you're gonna make my pretty little eyes teary."
I pulled the sheet back up that had slipped down and covered my bare body, his eyes met mine but I couldn't read his mind. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. I shifted a little lower on the bed, half-sitting, half-laying down. He watched as I made myself comfortable.
He let out a long exhale, his smile lingering but softening. He set the small bottle of champagne down on the nightstand and then, without saying anything, he leaned forward.
His arms slid around my waist as he lowered his head against my chest. Not like he was trying to start something, not this time. It was quiet. Intentional. His body folded into mine like he was trying to rest inside a moment he wasn't ready to leave.
I froze for half a second, thrown by the shift, by the sudden weight of him holding on like that. But then I moved, instinctively. My hands found his hair, still a little damp from earlier, and I let my fingers thread through it slowly. Gently.
We didn't say anything at first. We just existed. Existed in a dangerous space we knew we couldn't live long in. But I just held him like that, cradling the back of his head, my thumb tracing soft circles against his scalp.
And for a second, just a second, I let myself forget everything else. The rules. The promises. The lines we weren't supposed to cross.
Because I wasn't supposed to feel safe with him.
But right then, I did.
And that might've been the most dangerous part of all. Because this felt sustainable, though was never supposed to be.
He shifted slightly, the warmth of his face pressed against my chest made me giggle a little. It had always been me pressing my face against his chest but I strangely liked this shift.
Finally I broke the silence. "Are you comfy down there?" I whispered.
"August, I'm a man of simple pleasures. Boobs in my face just so happens to be one of those simple pleasures."
"Oh right. Hence cowgirl being your favorite. How could I forget?"
Now we both laughed, I could feel his head bounce a little with each laugh I let out which made me laugh even more. But he didn't budge, he stayed put, his arms tightly around my waist, his face firmly against my breast. And I wasn't going to move him.
After a while longer his head shifted to look up at me. He placed a small kiss on the center of my chest and finally lifted himself up and sat next to me on the bed. My gaze lingered on him as he sat there quietly staring off into the room. I wondered what he could possibly be thinking about but he gave me nothing. He barely blinked. It was like his body was here but his mind was up in space.
I nudged him lightly, knowing it was probably time to get to bed. "I should get my pajamas on cause I'm still naked but I'm comfy and you've already seen every inch of me. So if you'll excuse me I'm going to lay down. I'm exhausted."
He didn't say anything at first, he just looked over at me, his eyes traveling across my chest and then back at my eyes. I slid myself down further on the bed, finally laying down.
"Yeah I'm exhausted too, here, I'll shut the light off." He twisted over to the lamp on the nightstand and shut it off. He inched closer to me on the bed and I could hear him rustling next to me. Seconds later his arms wrapped around me but I didn't fight it. Instead I nestled my body to be closer to his.
"Goodnight August," he whispered.
"Goodnight Justin," I whispered back. I leaned up pulling his face closer to mine and gave him one last kiss, his lips were immediately receptive. And the kiss lingered longer than it should have.
The room was quiet, the only thing that could be heard were the distant waves and our breath's attempting to match their pace. His arms held me tight, and close to him, like it would pain him to let go. We laid silently in each other's embrace until I finally felt myself start to drift off into sleep. But not before I felt his lips press a few tender kisses against my forehead. Then my temple. The ones he gives me when he thinks I'm asleep. And my heartaches knowing this could never work out. Because I don't even know what this is. So how can I truly miss something that doesn't exist?