"I don't think you want to do this," she whispered in the dark, between kisses.
"I don't? Or you don't?" you whispered back.
You were practically on top of her, your legs tangled, leaning on your forearms. You could barely see the outline of her nose and jaw line in the darkness, but you felt her breath so close to your mouth, you knew where to look.
"I just…" she paused and drew a long breath. Your foreheads touched. "I just don't know if we should be doing this." Her voice was tender as if she was terrified of hurting your feelings and having this moment end. You could tell she chose her words carefully.
You've been waiting for this conversation to come up since you both got drunk at that party two days ago and made out in the bathroom. Now, sober, Brittany began to have doubts. You've thought about all of this too, but lately just thinking about kissing Brittany drives all of those uncertainties out of your head.
"We're just having fun, aren't we?" you said, trying to sound as disaffected as possible.
"Yeah, but…"she started, but you interrupted her thought with a brief touch of your lips. She kissed you back, softly at first, then deeper after she reached to the back of your neck and pulled you closer.
"But what?" you asked with a smile. You knew that the longer you kissed and the more times she kissed you back, all of the arguments and doubts would start to dissolve. She couldn't be that uncertain and still be kissing you back, could she?
"I just think you want this because it's easy and convenient," she said.
You sighed and put some distance between your bodies. Your breath caught in your throat, not because of her hand still lingered on your neck, and not because of the soft edge of her middle finger that was quietly stroking the outer rim of your ear. Not because of the softness of her bed around you and not because of the scent of her shampoo that lingered over her pillows. No, instead, your muscles tensed and your breathing turned shallow because those words were filling your head with every possible meaning they could have.
Easy and convenient sounds like you are taking advantage of something. Easy and convenient sounds like a 7-11. Easy and convenient can't encompass what I'm feeling for you in this moment, this very second within time and space, where you and I are the only two people that matter. Easy and convenient feels light and airy, open to interpretation. Easy and convenient might be all this is, but isn't easy better than difficult?
You decided to give voice to that last thought.
"Isn't easy better than difficult?" and then added, "I think if you're having fun, and I'm having fun, there's no reason why there should be something wrong with this."
As those words left your mouth you wondered, for just a second, if you were trying to convince yourself as well. You shrunk the space between your bodies and leaned in close again. Her eyes met yours in the dark, and the silence was heavy with feelings and wanting, curiousness and reticence, inhaling and exhaling. You brushed your nose against hers, right side with right side, left side with left and she smiled.
"It'll be OK," you whispered. "I promise."
You didn't even notice that you had lowered your voice, and that your whisper was little more than a breath chiseled into words. That moment seemed too heavy for louder voices and too fragile for sudden movements. You were both caught in the stillness of it all. If you thought about it later, it would seem this was the defining moment, the moment you made a choice and she let you. You didn't know why, and you didn't think it could have been possible, but she let you.
"I'm going to kiss you now," you breathed out.
Your eyes met for a moment, and a question lingered after your statement. Her eyes closed and her features relaxed.
This is it, you thought as you closed your eyes and met her lips with yours. The contact was warm and soft, and that feeling that some describe as electricity or fireworks just felt like quiet, concentrated, elation. As your heart swelled with thrill and passion, your hands grasped her t-shirt tighter, you pressed your bodies even closer together and her hands tangled themselves in your hair. It was as if you two were having a silent conversation. The shallow breathing strung together the words and phrases you were constructing between kisses: her bottom lip tugged lightly by your teeth, her tongue lightly pressing against yours, warm and smooth, the light and dry kisses of both sets of lips meeting periodically, punctuating the dialogue.
You lost yourself for a minute. Your mind wasn't blank but it was clear. This was it, this was all you had wanted to do and talk about ever since you woke up after that first night. Your hands were now roaming other parts of her body, but you were always conscious of the boundaries that still existed between you. Your touch was limited to her sides, her stomach, her shoulders and her neck. She kept her hands on your shoulders and in your hair, pausing periodically to brush a stray strand away from your face, her fingernails lightly tracing a line from your eyebrow to the back of your ear. You felt, right in this moment, like a shaken up bottle of soda that's just been opened, the fizz and foam rumbling towards the surface, ready to burst out of the bottle and explode onto the floor. But that couldn't happen. Not now, not while you still had so much to figure out. Brittany couldn't see the shaky situation you had placed yourselves in. You had just promised it would be OK, and you knew it was your job to make it so.
You leaned against your forearms again and hovered above her. She kept her eyes closed for a few seconds before she realized you had stopped kissing her. She took a deep breath before opening them and you felt her warm exhale make its way from your chin past your neck. A shiver ran through your spine but you shook it off, literally, by shaking your messy hair over Brittany's face. She giggled softly as she batted your hair away from her eyes and pushed it back over your head, she held her left hand behind her head and used her right to tuck the rest of the strays into the bun she was holding. Now that you were used to the dark you ran your eyes over her face, from her forehead to the bridge of her nose, from her high cheekbones to her slightly parted lips. Your eyes met again.
"Do you want to talk about how we're going to do this?" you asked hesitantly, worried that the answer would take away any future encounter of this caliber.
"I feel like this is how a relationship starts," she said, in a frustrated tone that made your heart sink, "and I don't think I can do that."
"No way," you say with conviction, recovering after the first blow, "relationships are complicated and messy, and this can just be easy and fun and light."
"Are you sure?" she asked; in the way mothers ask their kids if they have brushed their teeth at night. When they know you're probably lying.
You chuckled at the implication, and that seemed to set her at ease.
"Absolutely," you said.
You were positive right then, that this was a relationship you could get behind. Brittany was already your best friend, and you spent most days together, only now you would just have one more thing to do together, something to add to the list, next to cheerleading and going to the mall.
"So what is this?" Brittany asked to clarify.
"It's just you and me," you said reassuringly, but softly, bringing your lips next to hers again. "It's just fun."
Your hand gripped her neck and pulled her head up just an inch. Your lips met and you were lost, once more, in the warmth and the comfort that fuzzed out your thoughts and wrapped itself around you.