During sex she reveals herself to him, gives herself over completely. She allows him to peer behind the emotional defences that mask her vulnerability. She needs him because he understands her. He needs her to feel almost normal. What they share is never defined, it just is.
They lie in her bed facing one another. She strokes his cheek with her thumb, moves it across his lips then traces his jaw. His face bears the scars that define him; they convince her that he's human. He moves above her and attacks her lips, she responds and he moves down her body, lower and lower still. Some time later, her hands grip his hair and she wraps her legs around his neck, back arched, body screaming for a release.
…
His hand moves quickly between her thighs and she moans gently against his temple, biting her lower lip. Her fingers find that familiar place in his hair and she feels safe.
"You smell like the island."
His movement stops and his eyes meet hers, his breathing short and ragged. "Is that good or bad?"
"…I don't know." And she kisses him.
His hand resumes its motions inside of her and she screams desperately into his mouth.
…
He is on top of her. He likes to be in control and she prefers to be dominated. There are times when she feels an overwhelming desire to cause him pain, moments when she is sure he whispers her name and she hates that she enjoys hearing it. Her nails dig into his neck, bruises upon bruises. Her teeth sink into his jaw, he doesn't retaliate because he understands. Understands her need to blame someone for things in her past, memories she cannot erase; he is the perfect candidate.
When he collapses on top of her, she wants to tell him to leave, wants to say that she no longer wishes to see him, but her hands belie her thoughts. They slip noiselessly around his back and she holds him close to her body. Silent tears press against his shoulder and she has no idea why.
…
"I leave tomorrow morning."
"When will you be back?"
"I don't know."
She asks no more questions and falls asleep on his chest, hands clutching his hair, savouring the feeling beneath her fingertips. When she wakes, he is gone. She instantly misses his warmth and smiles at the irony.
He leaves her a note. She hides it in her purse and sneaks occasional glances at it when she is alone, free from the outside world. She takes comfort in his precise handwriting then wonders why…
What they have is complicated, so her life continues as normal. Each day brings her closer and she holds onto that notion because she needs it to survive. In the same way she needs him.
(He wakes and dresses silently, careful not to disturb her. Kisses her nose and eyelids before leaving the house. He never was good at very good at goodbye so he doesn't say it, rather leaves her with a promise. 'Until Next Time. Benjamin.')