#rents kept in our kitchen. yeah it was kind of hot. yeah it scarred me for life’

[cream-and-tea]

LAY ME DOWN. chapter seven excerpt. unedited. featuring: agnes taking some time to explore her new surroundings and reflect on her old ones. blasphemy. implied homophobia. religious trauma. mild injury.

[Transcript under the cut]

hiiii! we’ve had pallas’s existential gender ponderings so it’s only fair that i post something that features much more heavily in the plot: Agnes And The Ongoing Sexuality Crisis! now go and listen to hallelujah (in your arms) by semler at least 50 times to accurately recreate the experience i had writing this chapter <3

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-). @vellichor-virgo​ @nicola-writes​ @doctormoss​ @gerbermatter​ @cactusprincewrites @houndmouthed @muddshadow @just-wublrful @midnights-melodiverse @corkywantstowrite @paradisiacalshroud @andromedatalksaboutstuff @kingsinking @lungs-and-gills @lychniscitrus @phantomnations

This isn’t the first time she’s dreamt of girls. 

Agnes considers that fact as she pulls everything out of the chest sitting at the foot of the bed (spare bedding mostly, sheets and quilts and pillowcases— multiple of each—and at least one heavy coat). They’ve never felt like that before though, clear and cold like water running over her skin, so obviously there. Most of the time she doesn’t even remember the other ones, just the feeling of them, waking up part ashamed and part euphoric (the euphoria always wore off long before the shame).

Agnes checks under the bed, then opens and closes the drawer on the end table, scoots it over to peer behind it, not really sure what she’s looking for. Secret passages maybe? Hidden traps? Something to let her know what the rules are here. 

There are, in her experience, at least three kind of rules in the world: the kind that people will tell you up front, the kind that they expect you to just know about and act surprised when you don’t, and the kind that they never say out loud but you can feel somewhere in your bones must be followed at all costs (We don’t talk about how Agnes sees ghosts and we don’t talk about how Agnes thinks about girls both fall into this category). Normally it takes her way too long to figure out which are which, she can’t afford to do that here where everything is already so confusing. 

Pallas would probably know all the rules, if she can find them, if they don’t make her brain explode when she does. Pallas had seemed to know everything about whatever this place is. What would they think of the girl in her dreams? They’re a weird and very sharp sort of person, she thinks, not really anything in particular at all. A why more than a what. If they weren’t definitely going to murder her if she looked at them wrong she would ask about that. 

There’s nothing in the desk but pencils, pens and a stack of notebooks. There’s nothing under the rug or behind the dresser filled with clothes that all look her size. The bookshelf is half full of titles she doesn’t recognize. She’s too weak to climb up to and push aside the strange painting of a human-faced deer full of arrows that hangs over the fireplace. When she limps her way to the bathroom the tub is still full and stagnant from when she filled it the night before but her clothes have mysteriously vanished from their crumpled pile on the floor. 

Agnes sways, then sits on the edge of the bathtub to appease her screaming ankle. She swings one leg into the water, hoping that will somehow help the pain, presses the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Okay. Okay okay okay.”

Things she knows: This is a library in a forest a long time after libraries stopped being something people thought about (her mother is dead). This library is supposedly full of people like her and people like Pallas (her Papá is gone). It’s going to teach her about what she is (her mother is dead). It’s not going to be easy (her mother is dead). She shouldn’t tell anyone her name (her mother is dead). The Library is supposed to save the world. (her Papá is gone). There are doors in trees that lead to tunnels that lead to here and things that look like dogs but aren’t and people that can bend blood and flesh and a Director who’s office sits in the void with a sword hanging above it in suspended animation (her Papá is gone and her mother is dead her Papá is gone and her mother is dead but somehow she is alive alive alive).

Things she doesn’t know: How exactly The Library is going to save the world. What The Library knows about the men in white. Where the men in white could have taken Papá. How these people can teach her about ghosts. How this place stands untouched in a forest that consumes everything around it. Why the girl in her dreams was asking her to find her. Whether or not there will be people her age here. Why the dogs and the Director and the librarian remind her of what the men in white did to her mother. Where her clothes went. If she’ll ever see Pallas again or if they’ve left her for good. If God hates her or not. Why there’s a sword in the Directors office. If there’s a place she can get food. If there’s any point to the deer painting or if it’s there just to creep her out. 

The closest thing they’d had to art on the walls back home was a wood-burned etching of the Virgin Mary that sat propped on a shelf above the kitchen table. Papá had made it for Mother for some anniversary and it really was very beautiful, dark line’s swirling across polished cedar. Her mother loved it and Agnes loved it too, there was something mesmerising about how the natural whorls and grain of the wood mixed with scratchy charcoal dark swirls. She’d liked the way the Mother of Gods eyes were ever so slightly downcast, as if she wanted to look at you but couldn’t quite bring herself to. Agnes could relate to that. And then one night when she was thirteen and everything seemed awful forever she’d gone to bed late after too little time spent with Mother and too much time wandering with the ghosts and dreamt that the carving had come alive. 

Mary had still been the colour of wood in the dream, but soft to the touch, human and wrapped in flowing fabric. Agnes had been standing barefoot and bareshouldered in the middle of the kitchen and Mary had knelt in front of her very very close and Agnes had used to clumsy hands to move the veil from her hair and the Blessed Virgin's hair had come loose around her face and she’d put her carvedgirl hands on either side of Agnes’s face. 

Then Mary had said nos diligimus, quoniam ipse prior dilexit nos and put her lips close to Agnes’s and Agnes had woken up screaming like someone had doused her with boiling oil. 

This, obviously, woke her parents, but she’d been too sick with horror and shame to lie so instead had sobbed out everything into Papá’s shoulder. Then Mother had begun to talk in the high and strung out way that there was something very, very wrong and Papá had sent her to sit on the steps outside in the gnawing February air where she’d pressed her hands to her ears and her snot-streaked face to her knees, trying to block out the sound inside while a dead woman and her barely-there son had pressed to either side of her, trying to be comforting but really only making her colder.

She felt about the same then as she does now, half-awake and shuddery and like she could make one wrong move and the world would collapse in screaming fire around her, well-worn prayers buoying in her heavy head, bits of wood carried along by a torrent of floodwater.

Oh Lord, what’s happening to me.

Oh Lord, why why why why why.

[baby-grayson]

Kind Stranger|Part 5|GBD

Read Part 1 Here Read Part 2 Here Read Part 3 Here 

 Read Part 4 Here Tags: @evergreendolan​ @someonetogray​ @vintagedolan​ @prettyboydolan​ @dolansficsandpics​ @graysavant​ @baby-turtles​

Kate’s eyes dubiously darted between the luxurious properties on the rich side of LA. When her phone pinged and told her she had made it to her destination, she swallowed hard. Her nerves about potentially hooking up with Grayson were replaced by new worries. Her fingers inched the steering wheel along a long, shrub lined driveway up to a bright white, huge house. Kate unplugged her phone from the center console in her car and sat back, she looked up to eye the house before going back to her phone to double check the address. It was right.

Suddenly, doubts filled her mind. Maybe Grayson sent her the wrong address? Maybe he lived with his parents? But he said he was from New Jersey. Maybe..well maybe… Kate’s eyes shot back and forth, taking in her scenery while thoughts raced through her mind. She noticed some movement in a second story window and realized she had been sitting in her car for too long. She forgot to check her hair before she gingerly stepped out of the car. She was a petite woman, but that moment made her feel small. She felt like Alice in Wonderland, like she ate something that shrunk her while the rest of the world grew. She slowly pushed one foot in front of the other and pulled herself to the front door.

Her worries were quelled slightly by the sight of Grayson’s bright smile through the glass in the front door. Grayson’s teeth nearly matched the color of white t-shirt, and even from a distance Kate could recognize the small gems on his incisors. She liked puzzles, and he was an enigma—a sweet enigma. Her sweet enigma swung the door open and greeted her with a warm hug that she gladly reciprocated. Grayson breathed it in again—that familiar sweet, citrus scent. As if on cue, both went back to the cabin of his van, with Grayson’s hand in her hair, and their lips softly attached.

Grayson pulled back from the hug, somewhat abruptly, not wanting to get lost in his physical excitement or indulgent emotions. He felt the heat in his face against the cold air-conditioned temperature of his entryway. “What’s up? I hope you’re hungry?” Grayson closed the front door behind her, not turning to maintain eye contact with her.  “I always am, did you order something?” Kate smiled brightly at him but did not move from where her feet were planted on the ground. “I made something,” Grayson grinned proudly and walked forward, silently urging her to follow.

Kate followed Grayson across the first floor of his house. The stone fireplace, high ceilings, and upscale decorations demanded something better than her tank top and shorts. She felt foreign here, as if she was taken out of her own life and placed here, a well-intentioned but confused visitor. Grayson had been speaking as he walked her through the house, but Kate was too busy ogling at her surroundings to focus on his words. Grayson led her to a small back patio with a table and chairs. Kate realized her cue to sit was when he pulled a single chair and held it out for her with his wide smile and perky cheeks.

Kate sat softly in the chair and laughed softly when he pushed her toward the table. She looked up at him from where she sat, his hands still on the crest of her chair. “This house… is it just you and your brother here?” Her mouth turned into a small gape of surprise when Grayson nodded, “Yeah, it’s just me and Ethan here.” She nodded softly while Grayson ran a hand through his hair. His gaze fell to the floor. He paused shortly before adding, “We’re renting this place. Our house is under construction right now.” Kate noticed his words get softer as he finished his sentence.

His eyes returned from the floor to find hers again, a nervous chill ran down his spine. His smile was unusually close lipped. “What do you want to drink?” Kate chuckled softly, “You’re a good host.” Grayson bowed his head softly, taking the compliment, before he winked subtly in her direction. He immediately wondered if people still winked at each other. “Can I just have a glass of water?” Grayson nodded, “Absolutely, I’ll be right back.”

Grayson stepped back into the house and Kate sat alone with her thoughts. Her mind wandered back to the house. How were Grayson and his brother able to afford to rent this? And buy another house? And why did he not want to talk about it? She felt like she wasn’t in on a joke. She felt like she had wandered into someone else’s territory. This wasn’t someone else’s territory; this was Grayson’s territory. The Grayson she met at the beach wouldn’t rent a mansion in the hills. Did this qualify as a mansion?

Before she could lose herself any further in her thoughts, Grayson walked through the backdoor carrying a tray with a glass of water, a can of diet root beer, two plates, a large bowl of salad. Kate shot up from her seat to take the plates from the tray and place them on the table. Grayson thanked her and placed the rest of their meal on the table. Sitting her seat, across from Grayson with a giant salad behind them, Kate felt confused. A hot guy invites her over when no one is home…to eat a salad with her. He was an enigma. “Do you cook often?” Does a salad count as cooking? It must when you’re talking to a guy like Grayson.

Grayson nodded while taking his portion, “Yeah, I’ve been cooking for me and my brother since we moved to LA.” God damn she looked pretty in the sunlight. Grayson watched the light dance on her eyes from across the table. “Is it fun for you? Do you try new things?” Kate filled her mouth after taking a mouthful of lettuce, appreciating the light summer breeze flowing through Grayson’s hair. She felt her heart smiled when his dimples showed up when he started to answer, his eyes turning up. “Yeah, I went vegan a few months ago. I’ve started tracking my nutrients and figuring out how to turn my favorite foods vegan. It’s so much easier than you’d think.” Kate let her lips slide into a mindless smile, basking in the light his heart gave off when he talked about something that really meant something to him. A person with passion was attractive. “So, you’re a vegan and you care deeply about your health,” Kate caressed the side of her water glass mindless, feeling the cold drops fall on her hot skin. “But you drink diet root beer?” She did not try to disguise the skepticism in his voice. “Yes I do!” Grayson’s voice rang in the backyard, exasperated. “It’s better than full sugar.” He held his can up near his face, in some sort of impromptu demonstration of nothing. He noticed Kate’s snicker and realized that once again, she was poking fun at him. He took a sip from the can and placed it down on the table. “I don’t quite know about that” her voice was made of equal parts playfulness and suspicion. “Well I know about it,” Grayson draped an arm around the back of his chair. “Not really,” Kate shook her head softly, “I’m the scientist,” she pointed to chest with a dainty finger, “I know about it.” She assured him confidently, Grayson had to dart his eyes back up to her face when she spoke to avoid looking at her chest. Grayson tried to think of a rebut to quip back but was disturbed by a rustle in the bushes. He and Kate turned their heads in sync to the back corner of the yard to discover Ethan carrying a bicycle across the fence line. Ethan looked up to make eye contact with both Grayson and his date, and immediately realized what he was walking in on. Momentarily, Ethan wondered if Grayson had told her already. Ethan leaned his bike against the side of the house and walked up to the table of lovebirds. Grayson internally swore at his brother and wondered how far Ethan would fly if Grayson threw him as hard as he could. Kate took a breath, stunned at just how ‘twin’ the twin brothers really were.

“I’m Ethan,” he nodded in Kate’s direction between glancing at his brother: recognizing that Grayson was dying slowly inside. “Kate,” she smiled politely up at him. Grayson slouched in his chair slightly, huffing small breaths and contemplating how much the strength of the wind would change Ethan’s flight pattern. “Sorry for disturbing you guys, I was just coming in from a bike ride,” his apologized to Kate but kept Grayson in the peripheral of his vision. “It’s fine,” Kate was sweet and reassuring. She was also pretty: Ethan could see why Gray liked her. Ethan felt the sweat drip down his face from his bike ride; he ran a hand through his hair to push it back, momentarily glancing at the ground. He stopped for a moment, noticing a throng of thick skin cover one of Kate’s ankles. Ethan’s brow furrowed as he took in a knot of scars wrapping around her left side. Kate sat straight up against the back of her chair and pushed her ankles underneath her chair, breaking Ethan’s gaze. She sucked in a harsh breath and looked at Gray while Ethan’s eyes fell on the pair again. Grayson’s embarrassment was growing at an exponential rate. “We were actually just finished eating,” Grayson stood up from his seat, “Why don’t you help me bring the plates inside Ethan?” Grayson gritted his teeth into something like a smile, hoping his twin understood he was being told to do it, not asked. The pair started clearing the table when Kate asked, “Do you have a bathroom I could use?” “Take a left at the kitchen and then it’s the second door on the right.” Grayson’s normal, low but sweet voice returned.

Kate wandered back into the house, looking a bathroom. She stopped at the kitchen island, noticing a video camera and small microphone sitting on the surface. She looked up again and noticed the same massive stone fireplace, looming over her from the dining table. Peering closer, she noted a couple of tripods leaning against the corner of the dining room. She followed Grayson’s directions to the hallway, where she noticed a couple of camera bags strewn on the floor.

“How could I tell her when you were staring like that?” Grayson gritted his teeth and waved his hands at his brother. “I’m sorry but how can you not expect me to stare when her leg looks like that? I feel bad but it’s true.” Ethan retorted. Grayson groaned lowly, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the counter. “Why is it like that?” Ethan’s voice no longer held the accusatory tone. “I don’t know,” Grayson looked down at the floor, “I keep wanting to ask her. I mean” he signed and shrugged, “I know she has a problem; I just don’t know what it is.”

Kate stepped into the kitchen to view this scene: a disheveled, discouraged Grayson and a sweaty, antagonistic Ethan. Kate smiled softly when Grayson looked up to see her, a matching expression forming on his face. Feeling, once again, like he was in someone else’s spaces, Ethan politely stepped out of the room. “Everything okay with you two?” Kate hesitantly stepped toward Grayson’s place at the counter.

Grayson nodded unconvincingly, “Yeah, everything’s aright.” “I know you said you guys fight a lot—” “—I have something to tell you” “oh,” Kate’s mouth fell and she swallowed slowly. Grayson’s palms felt a layer of sweat drape over them as his heartbeat heightened. He took a deep breath, but his thoughts were interrupted by Kate’s words, “I know.” Grayson’s eye brows raised as his jaw fell slightly, “You know?” his heart beat slowed but the sweat from his skin continued to drain into his palms. Kate took her own deep breath and nodded slowly. She could not bare to look at him, so she picked a banana in the fruit bowl on the counter and stared plainly at it as she rambled, “I know. Or at least. I think I know. And it’s okay. It really is. I get it. It’s LA. I’m not in Philly anymore. This place is different. You’re different. But you’re nice. And I like you. And I think this could go somewhere. And I don’t know really know what I think of it. But I guess I’m open to it. You’re sweet. I never thought I’d end up with… It’s just new for me.” Grayson’s left eye brow raised slightly, staring at her intently as she continued to talk to a bowl of fruit. His heart nearly fell to a complete stop when the next words came out of her mouth. “I know you’re a porn star.” She breathed out quickly and swallowed, “I just can’t figure out…is Ethan involved?” 

Grayson’s jaw gaped open. His eyes darted around the room, while thoughts raced around his brain. The air around his face grew stagnant while he tried to find words. Kate’s gaze shifted from the banana to Grayson and back to the banana. She felt her face go warm and bit her lip hard, looking back up at Grayson. Grayson felt his body go cold and mustered out the brain power to say, “No.” Kate angled her face, pulling back slightly.

“Um.. we’re not pornstars.” Grayson started plainly, breathing in between each word. He felt like he was choosing each word as it was coming out of his mouth, a slow and painful way of delivering news. “We’re Youtubers. We make videos.  We have been for nearly six years now. We have like 11 million fans on YouTube.  So yeah not porn…but you weren’t that far off, I guess…” Grayson found his own eyes latched onto the banana in the fruit bowl.

The air stood in the room. Kate’s brain couldn’t think straight when all of the blood rushed to her cheeks. Grayson’s grip on the counter tightened while his back teeth chattered. Kate shifted her weight from one foot to another, raising her gaze to look back at Grayson while he started to speak again, “I wanted to tell you. So you could maybe look it up for yourself. So, you could have a chance to figure things out for yourself before anything really …happened…. between….us…”. Grayson struggled to remember the reasons Ethan had preached at him last weekend.   Kate nodded slowly and met his eyes when Grayson finally looked up at her. His eyes were darker than usual, like their light had partially gone out. His face fell, where his cheeks usually balled up under his eyes. Grayson’s own brain nearly committed a mutiny. There he was, standing in his kitchen with a pretty girl. A nice girl. A smart girl. A great girl. And he couldn’t enjoy it because he had to stand in an awkward silence and explain what he did for a living. He was a normal guy. A normal 20-year-old dude who should be able to meet a normal girl without these problems. “Thanks for telling me,” Kate’s voice was soft. Her face matched the color of strawberries. “Maybe it’s best I go home, but I’ll um… I’ll look that stuff up and I’ll let you know what I think?” She wasn’t even sure what that meant, just that leaving that kitchen felt like the necessary course of action. Grayson cleared his throat and nodded. He stood up straight, taking his hands off the counter and crossing them. “That sounds good, feel free to let me know when you want to ...um do something again.” This was pathetic. He was pathetic. He had so much time to practice this and THIS is the best he could come up with. An awkward kitchen with a lack luster promise of another date.

Kate drove home in a daze. The highway must have taken her home because she did not have the mental capacity to process the kitchen debacle. She accused her gorgeous of date of being a porn star in his own home. Dread filled the pit of her stomach, sloshing around as she walked through her front door.

She grabbed her computer out of her backpack and opened it up. She searched his name, and despite his words, she was surprised at the amount of hits popping up. Maybe this was just something people did in LA? Maybe everyone was just an internet person? Kate thought about what would happen if she googled the guy who worked at the deli down the street, or the woman living downstairs. Are they internet personalities too? In the midst of her daze, Kate did what Ph.D. students do best: research.

She watched, read, and listened to all things Dolan until the sun went down. Her reaction happened in waves. At first, she laughed. She watched a young Grayson, with a much different haircut bounce around her screen. She met a younger Grayson and a mop-headed Ethan with a streak of colored hair. They look like the rejected members of One Direction. She felt slightly proud, Grayson was clearly a good person—or at least online Grayson was a good person. He was noncontroversial, funny, and wholesome.

The amount of content started to get under her skin. She found a documentary for his late father. She didn’t even know his father had passed. Grayson never mentioned it. She shifted and scrolled back farther, wanting to avoid anything person. The attempt was futile, shortly after the landed herself on a video of Grayson describing in detail how he bullied during his first few months of high school. Kate recoiled on her couch. She had been ridiculed in high school. As girl growing up in West Philly, an affiliation for books and facts didn’t produce many friends. She turned to Google, only to find an even more tangled web of disturbing rumors, speculation, and conspiracy theories.

Her stomach turned. Did Grayson want her to find this? Is that what he meant? Did he want her to know everything? If he wanted to open up to her, he could have just told her… But maybe this is how it’s done in LA? Her skin felt dirty. Her mind felt dirty. This was wrong. You don’t just research everything about someone else…She closed her computer and stuffed it back into her backpack.

She dug her phone out of her purse for the first time since coming home to see at three missed calls from Grayson. On the other side of LA, Grayson was obsessing over saying the wrong thing. He felt like he had pushed her away. His stomach knotted in confusion, concern, and anguish when she left. In the time she was gone, the knot only grew heavier. Grayson felt like he lost something he never had. He called her, expecting to get her voicemail again. He had written down what he wanted to say, a small message to say he wanted to know everything was okay and to let him know when she could. The knot in his stomach tightened when she picked up the phone. “Hello?” Her voice was soft like a summer breeze but weighed down by the sadness in the back of her mind. “Hi Kate,” Grayson’s voice was shaky on the phone. He quickly crumped his pathetic excuse of a script up and swallowed hard. Kate closed her eyes on the other end, feeling terrible for whatever emotional position Grayson was in right now. Kate only picked up the phone to quell the storm brewing inside of Grayson. But now that they were listening to each other’s voices, neither one knew how to give or get what they were looking for. “Are you okay?” Grayson started, “I know this must be a lot to take in” Yeah that wasn’t bad. Maybe he wasn’t going to completely fuck this up. “I’m…..” Intimidated? Lost? Scared? Confounded? Dizzied? “Confused” she decided on. “I guess. I uh wasn’t sure what you wanted me to see or not. There’s so much out there Grayson.” Grayson swallowed hard, his heart diving into the knot in his stomach when she spoke his name. Wasn’t it just last night that she spoke his name and made his heart flutter like a thousand butterflies escaping a paper bag. “I know there is. Six years is a long time,” he bit his lip, “Just uh—know that I’m here when you’re ready… to talk or to ask, whatever I can do to help this makes sense.” To help me make sense. “Will do,” Kate took in a breath that Grayson could hear over the phone. “I won’t be a stranger.” Grayson’s heart perked up slightly but fell again when he heard the dial tone as she hung up. His head hung low, feeling as thought the world had just proved him wrong. Was Grayson Dolan a normal guy? Could he not separate himself from his online presence? On the opposite side of LA, Kate’s heart hung low in her chest. She tossed her phone to the side and laid on her couch. She watched her ceiling fan spin, feeling dizzied both inside and out. She decided taking a shower would clear her head and help her get some sleep at night. Sleep was the last thing on Grayson’s mind. Grayson grabbed the keys to his Porsche before he could develop a real plan. He felt the feelings of self-doubt continue to grow in his stomach. He broke the speed limit on the freeway, a part of him thinking that if he could defy tangible rules then maybe the feeling in his stomach would stop taking hold in his brain. Every piece of his body, mind, and heart were fighting to decide on how to best approach this. Should he apologize? Should he talk her through the past six years? Should he blame Ethan for telling him to tell her? Before he knew it, Grayson found himself at Kate’s front door. He knocked, assertively, and let the warm, California nighttime air fill his lungs. She opened the door, and Grayson began speaking the second he heart the door hinges squeak. “I was wrong. I was wrong to tell you like that. I was wrong to lie to you, kind of, that day , at the aquarium. I was wrong to not give you more information. I was wrong to just send you on your way like that. Like I expected you to know what to do with that information. I don’t even know what you were supposed to do. But Ethan said that you should know before things get too far. But I really like you and …you’re…so—” Grayson’s mouth fell open slightly when he fully recognized the image in front of him.

He stared at her, mouth agape. Her petite shoulders were dripping water onto her towel, that was slowly becoming more soaked. Her small frame was only covered by a white, terry cloth tower. Her dark hair looked nearly black when wet. Her collar bone and cleavage were exposed to him. Her big brown eyes looked up at him, dewier and kinder than ever before. Her small pink mouth sat pursed and pensive on her face. Grayson drank her in. The knot in his stomach gave way. He gazed up at her big brown eyes and then back at her perfect, pink mouth. And before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her in. He cupped her face in his hands and moved his lips down to meet hers. They crashed together. He kissed her hungrily, not caring about the growing desire in his pants from not touching a woman in months. Unlike their last kiss, she did not pull away softly and quickly. Her lips reached for Grayson’s almost as fervidly as his sought hers. One of his traveled down to wrap around her waist, wanting to hold her tiny being as close against him as possible. No longer having to hold her towel up, one of her free hands pulled at the hair on the nape of his neck, demanding he come down further to meet her. Her other hand fingered his jaw and his neck. Her head tilted more to give him more access to her mouth as he began to explore her lips with his tongue. For the second time that day, his heartbeat overcame him. But this time, he didn’t care. He drank her in. Intoxicated by the idea that a normal guy could find a normal girl, and maybe they could be something. Something like a sweet enigma.