1; Tumbling, racing, vomiting.
All she could see was mangled sexual organs. All she could hear was that horrible scraping from nail files. All she could feel was a shallow, muted churning.
And then she took a quick breath.
He blinked.
--
2; A hand opened.
Heat rose to her face and he looked back at her with an unusual apprehension.
Liquid. And it was bubbling inside her. She couldn't tell if it was traveling down to her lower body or welling up to her eyes. So she closed her hand and her eyes.
He wished she would just make up her mind.
So he could make up his.
--
3; Gushing. Something.
A finger, traveling up a rail thin arm. A twitch, thought to indicate discomfort. It was only surprise. She didn't know that yet. She really should have by then.
Withdrawl.
Pause.
Acceptance.
The finger on his arm was replaced with a hand.
She chanced a look and saw nothing but a mirror next to her.
--
4; Filled doorways.
He meant to say goodnight, but took too long.
Wrapping, touching, awkward shifting. She really does mind. A few tried to get the angle right, seeing as how it's too dark out. A passing car makes up his mind.
He pulls her inside.
She doesn't leave.
Not that she can. Her legs are a little preoccupied with some sulfuric acid by the time she realizes.