Crossed

Chapter 3, Part 2

Spoiled with the opposite of envy, gratefulness, they tumbled back inside Austin's suite. Do you smoke? He laughed out awkwardly, inviting.

She grabbed his arm and whipped him around, pulling him tight to her chest. His wrist was squeezing hers. Noses inches apart. The aromas of their flesh intertwining, blending, sparking. Whatever was the sublime feeling around a petrol station's air made contact with the bloody frothing blush of sexuality in the whim. Heat surging up their nostrils with each breath, chests compressing.

He shook his head to shake out the thought. His brain ate itself. Forced strain as punishment. Rarely did he have those kinds of thoughts but when he did, there was no remorse when his mind attacked itself for it.

I don't have much to do today, she said, lively.

They approached his corner of the living room, his domain in this world, cautiously. Worried about the infinite potential of the interaction, worried in which way it would manifest -- which way it would direct them, not which way they would direct it. It was out of their hands.

He sat down far enough into the armrest of the couch so that when she sat down, she would give him space instead of touching him thigh to thigh. When she finally sat down, through the seconds of suspense, it was still so that they were thigh to thigh. He winced. He turned his slouched head slightly over to look at her thighs. He imagined sliding his fingers in between them and tightening into a grip.

Ah, I haven't had a blunt in a while.

When she spoke, it scared him back to looking straight.

I've had two today

His voice was robotic. As was his movement when he picked up the grinder from the table and checked how much weed was in it. There was some but not enough for an entire blunt. He immediately stood up and stepped over the legs of the woman and into the bedroom, where his stash of weed was, where he could escape the pressure that was sending shock beams all throughout his body.

Give me one second, he said.

There were two gods that were providing her with promising images, possible realities, possible metaphysical interpretations of that event. Athena and Aphrodite.

Athenas voice was the voice of strategic domination. Womanly power. Her image embarked on a journey, standing up from the couch and following her peer into the bedroom and transforming him into someone more renowned than a peer. She felt an uplifting surge of control, warping her futures in front of her vision at light speed, calculating, mesmerized.

Aphrodites voice was the voice of feminine seduction. The scent of sex. Fumigating through clouds of colors, her fear of the energy being sapped from her bones took over -- she would age eventually. The haunting face of her future self loomed in her internal mirror, scarring her, lurching her movements to rip off everything she had on and to sit displayed, waiting, knowing that any man would take that opportunity by the reigns and hold on tight.

Both of these attitudes engulfed her being and she was conditioned enough to integrate them into her system of thought with the right move. She decided to wait. Wait until the time was right. There was no need to rush anything, they had just met. Spreading out the points of contact like spreading out a pair of rolled dice, she managed to romanticize each and every moment of the next couple of minutes. She decided that she wanted to remember it all, slowly.

He walked back into the living room, excited over what was in his hand. It was hard to see from her spot on the couch but as he got closer, she could make out a little green nugget in his hand, rolling around in the clamminess, soaking up moisture like a dry sponge. He kicked the couch. The nugget went flying across the room. She stood up, reached out, and caught it. In the air. He was staring wide-eyed at her hand where the plant had landed. His eyes then moved up to her own, where they looked at each other in a kind of shared awe. A communal triumph.

Oh, so you're some kind of athlete huh.

I'm an award-winning olympic gymnast.

They erupted in nose-exhales as she handed him the prized possession. They sat down next to each other. This time she forgot to let her leg touch his. They were separated. For now.