He's a Cheater ✔️

Mary

I crashed my hungry lips against hers, as my arms reached up to press her body tightly against mine. The cold air nipped at my exposed skin, but as her warm fingers trailed upwards, my mind became disinterested in the idea of comfort. My hands slid up her bare skin, still hot from her coat which was now lying on the grass. My fingers, which continued to caress her soft skin, turned cold as the night continued to envelop us, and I could feel hesitation seep through my veins. Almost as if she noticed the change, as we stumbled backward and I pressed her up against my car, I could feel her kisses become more desperate.

As her intensity increased, however, the guilt rose up my throat, and I broke away from her. I looked into her icy blue eyes and brushed away some of her unkempt hair, inhaling deeply. And, as reality caught up with me, I withdrew my hands from her chest and settled them, lightly, on her waist.

"I have to go," I explained breathlessly, "Mary might get suspicious."

"Yeah," she pouted, "but I'll see you in that hotel room on Saturday." She flashed me a dazzling smile, before fixing her short black skirt and glittery silver crop top and walking away from me. I slipped my car keys out of my pocket and pressed the unlock button, so I could get into my sleek black Lamborghini.

As I started the ignition, I realized I had Emma's lipstick laid abandoned on the floor of the passenger side of my car. Fuck, I thought, opening the glove compartment and shoving it underneath some of Mary's art magazines. I would have to give it back to her as soon as possible and hope that Mary wouldn't notice it.

I glanced at my face in the mirror as my seatbelt clicked into place, desperately trying to rub some of Emma's red lipstick off of my face. It started to smudge all over my face, so I let out a groan of frustration as I opened the glove compartment again, shoving my hand, searching for a tissue. I grasped the crumpled paper and brought it out, gently rubbing it on my face. After a few moments, the red lipstick had disappeared. I finally started the car, as I threw the used tissue back into the glove compartment, and the slow rumble of the ignition beneath me seemed to soothe my mind.

The street passed by in a black and green blur, intoxicating me. I looked up to the sky for a reprieve, and my eyes landed on a star. Our star.

Mary's hand was clasped around mine, as she led me through the meadow, a smile stretching across her face. She dragged me to a picnic blanket, laid out unevenly on the damp grass. It was about a year ago; she was just starting her second year of college and I was starting my third.

I sat down next to her, fiddling with her hair while she looked up. Suddenly, she started to speak.

"Do you see that star over there?" she asked me pointing up.

"I see a lot of stars up there," I replied to her, chuckling mockingly.

"No," she groaned frustratedly. She leaned upwards and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at a particular star. "Is it just me, or does that star glow just a little bit brighter than the rest?"

"No, I think it's just you," I said jokingly, then when I saw her frowning face I told her, "I was just joking, Mary."

"I know that," she huffed, taking out one of her ratty black sketchbooks that she never let anyone see. Not even me. She looked up at the sky once more and then looked back down at her blank paper that she had flipped to. Soon she started sketching, and after a little longer, there was a completely filled page with shade and tints.

Then, out of nowhere again, she took me by surprise, and leaned in real close, and said: "that'll be our star."

Then she had laid down again, and after another hour of silence, we headed back to our apartments.