The Roar of the Storm
Carla rises before the sun, a ghost woman leeched of colour by the pre-dawn gloom. She gathers all the items of clothing she can find within the shadows and retreats to the bathroom. She's ready to leave even though she can't find her tights when she catches Liam dimly reflected in a mirror she'd never really noticed before. He fills half the bed as if the memory of their nights together had trained him to keep space free for her.
They had fucked; there really was not another word for it, on numerous occasions since his recovery and they had broken up with their mutual partners. Those encounters took place in what she considered moments of strength for her and moments of weakness for Liam. A few times in the factory, and, eventually, they ended up in a mass of tangled limbs in his house. They are not a couple and she feels like a stranger in his home.
She thinks about when they were together and how far apart they had become. Sometimes she thinks that he liked vulnerability and when they were alone she had welcomed a chance to be weak for once. But he had hurt her and she had cursed herself for ever thinking of letting him into her heart. She had never been good at forgetting or forgiving and yet she still misses him, still regrets that she had hurt him in return.
In the darkness Liam sighs and shifts reaching for her in his sleep.
She pulls her coat tightly around herself, ashamed of having broken her promise already.
Carla did not recall falling asleep on his sofa. She woke up a little past midnight, the cluttered lines of the room sharper in the gloom; the blanket covering her was soft and heavy. She shrugged the blanket off and put on her shoes. Street lights spilled a faint golden light into the darkness drawing her towards his bedroom door even as her mind told her to leave.
She sighed willing herself to stay strong and she turned to leave.
She walked smack into Liam.
"I went for a walk, couldn't sleep." he said.
He wore jeans and an open leather jacket. She slipped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to the solid comfort of his shoulder. His skin radiated heat through the crinkled material of his shirt and she scratched her nails lightly over his sides making him sigh. He grows hard against her stomach.
She reaches for his waistband, but he catches her wrist.
"I can't do this, Car'." His voice heavy with resignation.
She bit her lip and looked away, her cheeks hot. "I understand."
"You think you're stronger if you stay distant," he told her. "You make people need you and then you walk away when you need them back."
She froze. A reckoning had been hanging in the air for days, and she wanted to choose wisely. Liam looked uncertain, shy, and Carla had an image of him grinning as he passed her that first cigarette, music blaring in the background. Her heart squeezed and nearly broke.
"Not anymore," she said, taking his hand. They both believed her.
He leans down to kiss her and then lead her to his bed.
Lightning forked outside, thunder rolling loud and deep. He teased her breasts with his tongue, and she threads her fingers through his hair. Liam pushed into her deliberately, unhurried. She did not plead with him to go faster. She let herself go as the rain and the wind lashed against the windows, nearly drowning the sound of his name on her lips.
She pulled his mouth down to hers, savouring his weight as he moved within her. He cupped her face in his hand and he kissed her deeply, making sigh against his tongue. He trailed his fingers up her waist and stroked her neck. She held his gaze instead of closing her eyes and tossing her head back.
"Carla," he said.
She touched his cheek, traced his features with a fingertip. Her hands skimmed over his body, learning him over again. She let him tell her she was beautiful.
She let him make love to her.
Carla picks up her bag, the scraping branches outside muffling her footsteps on his creaky floor. She pads out of the bedroom before putting on her shoes. She makes it to the front door and stops, staring out into the night.
She had told him she loved him, that their last conversation before that horrid car crash had been a lie. She was naïve then and thought she was making a commitment, that the truth was enough. Wiser now she knows that being open and honest is much more powerful than three words. In this moment she understands that it takes great strength to live for someone, particularly when you don't always know how.
Carla returned to his bedroom and watched for a second as Liam dreamed quietly. Black clothing and cold eyes were flimsy armour against his trust. She climbs back into bed.
He wakes and kisses her drowsily, mussing her sleek hair. She burrows against him, his arms shutting out the roar of the storm.