My Favorite Stranger

18

Mya dreaded getting out of bed. Why would she get out of bed when she was so comfortable and warm?Despite her slight headache from the wine.

Why would she rip Jessie's arm from around her waist? The sturdy grip keeping her close to the sleeping woman's frontside. She fit so perfectly, why should she get up?

The soreness in her thighs and midsection held her in place for the past thirty minutes she's been awake. It felt like she was riding a horse for hours on end. That was more than enough inspiration to just stay in bed. She could, technically. She did have ample time.

But Mya knew she had too many clothes to sort out and pack back into her luggage. Too many little things she didn't want to forget, even if she could afford all of it 10 times over.

Jessie nestled her face directly into Mya's shoulder blade, breathing heavily. She almost felt bad for the sleeping girl. Jessie worked her own body all night to please her and deserved to sleep in for the entire morning.

Mya watched as her phone lit up on the nightstand. She was just barely curious as to who was texting her. Nothing could distract her long enough to forget about the fact that she had to drive back home today.

She trailed the pads of her fingertips over Jessie's forearm, looking down at the dark skin and the long vein currently bulging. She hummed softly, focusing on Jessie's breath as it skimmed a few centimeters down her back.

Mya knew she had to hold on to these moments. She didn't know if Jessie had to work today — well she always had to work, but lately, she's been somewhat blowing it off — or errands to run. She wasn't ready to say goodbye.

As much as she wanted to daydream about all of the possibilities she and Jessie could live through, it wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth torturing herself even if it was going to happen eventually — probably on the car ride home. She couldn't waste time daydreaming, on escapism.

Jessie was here with her, right now, for probably the last time. She didn't know. Couldn't say. Both of their lives were on diverging paths. It was plausible, but she was here and there was no better place to escape too.

Mya gently turned to face Jessie, wincing slightly as she twisted her hips and moved the bricks she called her legs.

Jessie stretched her neck upwards, groaning softly. Her black hair draping down half her face. Mya smiled, gently pushing it out of the way and brushing it back behind the woman's ear.

"You're amazing," Mya whispered, studying the delicate features of Jessie's face.

And Jessie is amazing. She couldn't stress it enough. Didn't believe the week that she had was real. Didn't want to believe it was over. How different things would be if Jessie's father was home.

Tears were brimming the edges of Mya's eyes. It wasn't fair. She was sure she said this phrase a million times this week.

Jessie mumbled something. Mya couldn't make it out as she sniffled and let tears fall. She was probably just sleep talking. But Mya was proven wrong when Jessie spoke slightly clearer after a few more minutes.

"Don't cry ..." Jessie said softly. Her voice husky and low. "No llores mi dulce."

The sleepy command made more tears spill, Mya placing a hand over her face to hide as best as she could while weights on her chest were finally crushing her rib cage.

Jessie moved closer, pulling Mya into her chest. Jessie gently stroked Mya's hair back. Mya sobbed quietly, holding on.

"I'm sorry," Mya mumbled through tears.