Page 54 of Her Sloth

Pulls it to her.

I look up into her eyes.

Right.

Eyes.

She said something.

I am just useless at this point.

“What?” I ask, stupidly.

“Cuba,” she says, sniggering.

“What’s with Cuba?”

“Epic car scene, no extradition.”

“Oh, yeah,” I say as my brain catches up to reality.

These eyes. The touch. The scent.

And then, her lips meet mine.

Of everything I expected, this wasn’t it.

She stops.

Brings some distance between our faces.

“That was fucking weird,” she says, and I couldn’t agree more.

“Yeah,” I say as she removes herself from my lap and falls onto her back on the bed.

She sighs.

The moment is as awkward as it can get.

So I just say nothing.

Of all the fluttery sensations she has caused in me, that kiss was not only strange; it felt like kissing a corpse.

So many moments passed between us, moments where I thought there was heat and fire between us, and now, it feels like I kissed my sister.

I shudder to shake off the sensation.

“Why did you fucking do that?” I ask her incredulously, but I don’t get an answer, because she has finally passed out.

And while things couldn’t be any more awkward, when I lie down next to her and watch her sleep, it feels like we have done so forever.

Lying here together.

Being together.

Flying and falling together.

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