“Come for me, Ro,” he growls, voice low and commanding. “Want to feel you come around me.”
And I do. I fall apart in his arms, his name on my lips, every part of me shattering. He follows, his hips jerking, my name on his lips over and over again.
After, he doesn’t move. He pulls me in, wraps around me from behind, his arm across my chest, his face against the back of my head. I press my hand over his, our fingers entwined, both of us breathing hard, coming down together.
• • •
I press my hand over his. Neither of us speak for a long time.
We lay the way we’ve lain in the dark together since we were kids and didn’t know what love was yet.
The window open. For real. Forever.
“I’m sorry,” he says. Into my hair. Quiet.
“Not just for tonight. For all of it. Every single time. I need to get help.”
“I know, I’ll help you find someone.”
“And I need to deal with my dad.”
“I’ll be there with you. Every step.”
Silence, comfortable silence.
“Hey.” I say into the dark.
“Mmm.”
“I never told you something.”
He turns his head slightly. Waiting.
“My favorite color. Blue.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know why though.”
Silence.
“Why,” he asks.
I smile at the ceiling.
“You moved in next door,” I say. “And you had these beautiful eyes. And I didn’t have a word for what I felt, so I just—started telling everyone my favorite color was blue.”
I pause. The room is very quiet.
“Ro.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re telling me,” he says slowly. “That for as long as I’ve known you, your favorite color was blue.”
“Yes.”
“Because of my eyes.”
