/
It's not a long walk at all from this bar to her house, lazy fingers in her hair and lazy fingers underneath her shirt and lazy fingers dividing white lines on the table.
No, not a long walk at all from being alone to finding company on this night, eager fingers unzipping her skirt and eager fingers brushing against her lips and eager fingers pushing her down.
She knows this girl in her bed, the one with dust on her nose and a name stuck in her throat, hips rocking because they must – not because they want to – and it's not a long walk from what she needs and what she is getting…
"Jesus, Ashley, don't take it all in one hit…"
"You can get more, right? You're the dealer. Let's make a deal, right?"
"I'm gonna have to hurry to catch up to you, aren't I?"
The tongue in her mouth tastes like rotting fruit, what was once ripe now past its prime, and when it slithers its way down her neck and when teeth bite her shoulder… it's not a long walk from reality to daydreams again…
"She doesn't know what she wants, you know? She doesn't know what she wants, going out with him and yelling at me… pushing me and pushing me and lying to me, telling me she likes girls. Fuck that, right? I mean, fuck her, right…?"
"Who cares about her, Ashley? We've got here and now to have fun with…"
"Spencer. That's her name. Not 'her', Spencer. And of course you don't care… you don't know her. If you did, if you did… you'd care."
She knows this girl in her bed, the one with the fading bruises along the thighs and a love still unspoken, moans masking all the sorrow and smiles covering all the frowns – and it's not a long walk from who she desires and who she'll settle for…
"I thought… I thought she'd be the one, you know… the one to keep me and hold me… She's supposed to be the one…"
"God, are we going to do this, Ashley?"
"…Aren't we already? Just get on with it."
"Fine. Want to do one more line?"
"Yea. Yea, one more."
And she races and she burns up and she feels like dancing and those fingers feel so good and the life outside of this room doesn't matter anymore – no long talks on the beach, no flirting away from prying eyes, no embraces that go on too long, no looks of what could be…
…And she races and she burns up and she feels like flying and those fingers are opening her up and the life outside of this room can't matter anymore – no more jealous tirades in the guise of friendship, no more hands that linger into caresses, no phone calls until dawn, no declarations just waiting in the wings…
But it's not a long walk at all from truth to lies and back again.
And the murmur that echoes out has nothing to do with the woman inside her and everything to do with a girl from Ohio, everything to do with a pair of blue eyes that have pierced her armor and couldn't just stop there… had to keep going until she was torn apart… had to keep going until she was murdered by just a damn glance…
"I think… I love her…"
No, not a long walk at all.
Just the longest.
/
::END::