She falls asleep quickly. They finish, chests heaving, hearts pounding, then her eyes close and she’s out like a light. He can’t sleep though. Too many emotions whirring through his head like a snowstorm that won’t let up. He looks over at her, the slender curve of her neck, her pale skin and dark, long hair. She almost looks like Snow White, serene as she is in her slumber. He thinks he can see the faint outline of a bruise along her upper arm and wonders if she got it skating.
He reaches a hand out, his fingers brushing along the side of her bare shoulder, but he quickly pulls back. They may have just had sex, but he doesn’t feel like it’s his right to touch her. Especially now, when she’s asleep and still. So different to how she was when she was awake. She was a hive of bees, constantly buzzing and moving, energetic and so goddamn magnetic that he could barely look away long enough to blink. When she touched him it was with a kind of desperation that he hadn’t felt before. Like she would die if she couldn’t run her hands down his chest, scrape her fingernails up his spine, suck on the skin below his throat.
He drags a hand down his face and rolls nimbly off the bed and to his feet, silent so as not to wake her. In the bathroom, he runs the tap and splashes it on his face. He feels drunk but he didn’t drink that much. Not as much as he usually does, anyway. He wants to remember every moment of tonight, not just tomorrow morning but next week. Next month. Next year.
His eyes slide shut and he can feel her around him again, gasping into his ear, clinging to him like he’s her only lifeline. Justin didn’t think he was capable of feeling like this. He always thought sex was nothing more than sex. That it couldn’t mean anything more. But Kat has proved him wrong. He goes back out into the bedroom and slides beneath the sheets, huddling as close to her warmth as he dares. He can smell her shampoo, some flowery kind of scent. It’s nice.
She makes a small sound and puts her arm over his chest, pushing her face into his shoulder and sliding her leg between his. He slowly runs his fingers through her curls, his lips pressing to her forehead. Tomorrow morning, he decides, he’ll take her out to breakfast. He’s supposed to skate early in the morning, but screw it. He can be late. Kat’s worth it. They’ll go to breakfast and have a real conversation. She’ll tell him about her family or friends and they’ll bond over skating. They’ll laugh, maybe they’ll go back to his room after and fuck again and it’ll be just as crazed and passionate as it was tonight.
He pulls her closer and closes his eyes. For the first time in forever, Justin looks forward to the morning after instead of dreading it.
But when the sun shines through the slightly parted curtains and he stirs awake, he’s alone in his big bed.
Kat is gone.