Page 61 of Fallen Thorns
“Can I take this off?” Mars asked heavily. They were talking about my shirt.They want to take my shirt off.
I nodded. A radio fuzz of blind sensations.
And so it began.
Whether it was the alcohol induced state or the mere weight of what was about to happen, I’ll never know for sure, but Mars took their time. As if they were working in slow motion. They unbuttoned right down my chest until they had to pull the rest out from under my trousers. They tugged at my shirt until they could brush it over my shoulders, the cold air hitting me rather unpleasantly, but my limbs were way too heavy for me to shield myself as a sober me might have done.
Mars caged over me then, lowering their mouth to my throat, along each collar bone, and down over every inch of my chest. I let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a gasp, but I couldn’t fathom why. I don’t feel this. Not like I should.
Mars paused.
Eyelids heavy, I lifted my head up to look at them, but I could only make out the outline of their body. Mars pushed a finger to their lips, then leaned back on their knees and climbed off the bed. I struggled to keep my eyes open, but the last glimmer of curiosity allowed me to watch in the blue haze of midnight light while Mars tip toed to the end of the bed and began to undo my shoelaces. I was too weighted to help, but they managed perfectly fine on their own. They bent down to remove their own shoes then waltzed over to the corner of the room; the light filtering through the crack in the door outlining their curves. Reaching the cabinet fridge, they pulled out a wine bottle of sorts, and without even realising it, I had somehow managed to sit up fully and I reached an arm out for the bottle in Mars’ hand. I could smell it, the sweet bitterness of blood. I needed it. Craved it.
Mars took a dramatic gulp in the shadows, using their whole arm to wipe the stain from their lips.
I barely managed to make an audible sound, but Mars seemed to understand and passed me the bottle. Upon grabbing it rather greedily, I tipped my head back and savoured the taste as it slid down my throat. I swallowed once, twice, three…
“Enough! Don’t waste it all!” Their voice had gone all deep and gravelly which oddly made me chuckle as I was overcome with a strong wave of confidence.
“Come here,” I begged, clearing my throat.
I begged?
They crawled back over the bed frame to straddle me again, kissing me instantly. This time, the lingering saltiness of blood left their lips and my senses heightened, forcing me to inhale deeply as my eyes burrowed deep into my skull.
Too much.
I grasped for their face — something to ground me — then rolled our bodies over so that I was on top of them, looking down to their pretty face and protruded canines, exposed in a lazy grin.
“Can we?” they started, tilting their head and peering down at my neck.
“Can we…” I mumbled in repetition. It wasn’t a question; my mind just didn’t go there —couldn’t go there— no matter how hard it tried.
They answered themself by reaching down to my belt.
Oh.
I pulled back, my full weight sitting over their thighs. Mars’ hands danced over the hollow dip under my ribcage, down over my abdomen, and to the fine hairs over my lower belly.
I nodded.
I nodded.
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
Breaths.In and out. Hands. Touching. Heat. Touching.Oh.
I awokeas the mattress shifted slightly beside me and opened my eyes to a pool of jet-black hair and the smooth brown curve of Mars’ back. I didn’t dare move a muscle, and instead observed the sight in front of me. I could just about make out three identically shaped moles dotted down their back and I related them in my head to that of Orion’s belt.
Pretty,I thought.
Alcohol and blood still shrouded my system, and I drifted off again.
I will possibly never beable to fully explain what possessed me that night, mainly because I was slowly beginning to realise I could never picture myself with someone, whether it be romantically or sexually. The idea itself just wouldn’t compute in my brain. Fade to black. I believed it to be a fault, dodgy wiring of my brain, something that had to be fixed, and I thought that night with Lucy would cure it. But if I had control of my own mind in that moment, I would have never agreed to it. If I’d known to shield my mind, then my whole life would have turned out different. But as it stood, this was my life now. My world. And I had no choice but to be part of it.
The two of us, Arlo and Mars, in an equally drunken state, sought comfort in one another that night. That’s the only way I can describe it.
