Won't you.

Click. Clickclick. Clickclick.
This is the sound of anger, pent up and silenced. Cold and naked on her side, turning her back on him, hoping that by physically shutting him out she could shut him out mentally.

It doesn't work. She is still in his space, still feel the warmth emanating to her back, feel his feet meeting hers under the blankets, the shared blanket there was no choice.


The aftereffects of togetherness hung heavy in the air. She hears the dim music from the room downstairs. She realizes how close she is to the ground, her hands pressing down on the hard carpet, her body afloat on the airbed. The song is unknown but slow, and sad. Or maybe it's her.


He is suddenly reaching for her, she thinks they have made up? She is not sure? The song, coming through the floors is dim and muted and she starts to cry.


He apologizes, he kisses her eyelids, salty and sweet, he caresses her body with silky fingers. He tries to repair her and she guesses she must be broken if that is happening. He holds her tightly. He is sorry sorry so sorry.

'Do you want me to fuck you?'


And like a blanket, it is warm all over. Covering over.