Guess what? There's sex! It's not graphic. Just a warning. I mean, it's described and all, but pretty vaguely. Or, at least I hope so. So, tell me if you think the rating should be upper or anything. I personally don't think that this merits an R, but I'll let the faithful readers decide. Enjoy!

Peace

-elodie

Wisp

Chapter 09

The room was completely dark, save for the tiny cinnamon-scented candle on the table next to the bed. Winnie could feel Mark's soft breath against her forehead, his arms around her bare shoulders.

How had she ended up like this? She still couldn't believe it. Everything made her so happy. So this is what Mark meant when he said that true happiness was like floating. Her head felt so light she was worried she'd float right up to ceiling.

After that kiss in the park, they'd gone back to the loft, pausing only to kiss on the sidewalks, not caring that the people bustling around them saw.

Getting up the stairs had proven to be a task. Winnie already had to stand on tiptoes to kiss him and standing on tiptoes with lips pressed against his while trying to lift one foot up after the other had been too much and she'd nearly tripped and fallen down the stairs. Luckily, Mark had been there to catch her. Her hero, her knight, her princess.

And then they'd ended up in her bed, naked and writhing together. His lips had traced paths down her body, down her neck, in between her breasts, down her stomach and then up again. He'd kissed her scarred knees and her tender, scarred wrists. He'd planted a series of butterfly kisses along her shoulders. This had made her shiver, but he knew that she wasn't cold.

And then they were one, moving together in such a beautiful passion. Winnie wished she could have seen it from an outsider's point of view, but then blushed immediately after. What a voyeuristic thought…

It hurt a bit, but she was so delirious that she barely felt it. All she saw were Mark's soft blue eyes, staring right into hers. She never imagined it could be this wonderful…

A gasp, a whimper, soft kisses, back and forth they moved. Winnie's back arched against the soft sheets of the bed, chests pressed together, hips pressed together. Her lips were against his ear, kissing it softly, pausing only to gasp in perverse pleasure.

After they'd collapsed together in an exhausted heap, sticky with sweat, they'd stayed awake for hours, just talking, wrapped in each other's arms.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Mark asked tentatively, smoothing Winnie's hair against the pillow.

Winnie shrugged. "It hurt, but I barely felt it. I didn't care. It was worth it."

"I love you."

Winnie could hear the exhaustion in his voice and knew that he was fading fast. "I love you too," She murmured. "Mark, about going home… Do you think we can go in the spring? When all the flowers bloom? My mother always had a pretty flower garden."

"Of course," He kissed her again, lingering for just a few seconds. "Winnie, are you happy with me? I mean, really happy."

Winnie snuggled her head into the crook of his neck. "You're perfect. Never change. I'm so happy that I can't think straight. Are you happy with me?"

"So happy that I can barely move." And then he'd drifted to sleep.

Winnie couldn't sleep. She had to contemplate what she'd done. Did she regret it? No. Was she overwhelmed? A bit, yes.

He was going to take her home. It would be hell. She was so glad she didn't have to go alone. She was so afraid of how her father would react. But she needed to go back. She needed closure.

God, it had gotten so bad after Louis had died. No time was sacred. She often was sent off to school with a fresh bruise forming somewhere on her body. Usually not her face, but someplace where she'd certainly feel it later. He scared her so much… But she'd have Mark to protect her.

She shook her head. Now was not the time to think of this. This was such a happy moment; she didn't want to spoil it.

She leaned over and blew out the candle softly, then snuggled back against Mark. She drifted off to sleep easily, sighing against his chest. Such a wonderful night…

*          *          *

"You look funny."

"Gee, thanks Roger."

"No, seriously. You look…goofy, almost."

Mark tried to suppress his grin. He was supposed to be grim. He was supposed to be serious. Roger was sick. Mark was supposed to be worried. "So, don't you always think I look goofy?"

Roger squinted at him. "Yeah, but this time it's different… You're relaxed. You were so tense yesterday, I could tell. You got laid, didn't you?"

"Roger!"

"You did!" Roger began laughing almost hysterically. "I knew it. Little Marky got laid."

Mark scowled. "Well, it's not like it was the first time. What's the big deal?"

"It's nearly the first time, it's been so long."

"Oh yeah? Well, what about you? How many months it been for you, huh?"

Roger's face darkened. "Shut up."

"Oh yeah…" Mark sobered. "Sorry."

Roger snapped at him, "Don't apologize. I hate when you apologize."

"But you get mad when I don't!"

"Well, when you go around saying that you're sorry all the time, you come off as pathetic."

Mark scoffed. "Glad to know that that's what you think of me. Let's not fight now. I'm in too good of a mood to deal with this."

"Well excuse me, Mary Sunshine." Roger crossed his arms across his chest and stared straight ahead at the wall.

Mark sighed. Another stupid move… "Roger." No response. "Roger, don't pout. C'mon, let me be happy for once. I haven't felt like this in so long and you know it. God, I've been so busy taking care of you for the last two and a half years, I haven't had time for myself. I need some Mark time!"

Roger turned his head towards Mark slowly and stared at him, his eyebrows raised high. Then he burst out laughing. He couldn't stop, he just laughed and laughed. Mark stared at him wide-eyed.

"Roger?" He asked. "Are you OK?"

Roger nodded, attempting to stifle his laughter. "You said… You said 'Mark time'!"

"So?"

"I haven't heard you use that phrase since… Well, for five years at least. Thank you for that, Mark. You've made my day."

Mark smiled widely. "I'm glad."

Roger sobered and gave his friend a sad shrug. "Hey man, sorry about, well, y'know… I'm being a little selfish, I guess. It's just… Well, you don't seem to have enough time for me anymore."

"I visit everyday."

"Yeah, but you don't stay as long and… God, I sound stupid, don't I?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah, just a little."

Roger shrugged, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. "I'm so used to you not having a life. I'm not used to sharing you. It's been so long."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Let's not start this again…"

They were silent for a few minutes before Roger spoke up again. "Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you love her?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"And she loves you?"

"Well, she says she does. And I believe her."

Roger smiled slowly. "Well, good for you, stud. Hey, you actually listened to me for once! I told you to go home and fuck your little girlfriend and you did. Huh, what do you know…"

"Roger!"

*          *          *

"I got us the train tickets."

"Train tickets?"

"Yeah, to Gloucester."

They lay together in Winnie's bed, clothes lying on the floor by the door. The only light in the room was the cinnamon-scented candle. It was almost completely burned down.

"For when?" Mark asked, nuzzling her ear.

"The first weekend in May. Is that alright for you?"

"Of course."

Winnie kissed his neck gently. "I'm afraid," She murmured.

"Of your father?"

She nodded. "He won't be happy."

"I'll protect you."

"He's scary. Big. Much taller than you are." Winnie shivered. "God, he scared me so much."

Mark tightened his grip around her. "It's not like I'm tiny. Not like you. God, you're so fragile. I can't even begin to imagine what it was like."

"You don't want to," Winnie said softly. She rested her cheek against his bare chest and kissed it softly. "I called my aunt this afternoon."

"I didn't know you had an aunt."

"Yeah, my Aunt Lilia. I liked her a lot. She was always kind to me. Detached, but kind. Sometimes she'd take me into the city with her. God, I loved Boston. Best city in the world. Even beats New York. She even took me to a protest on the Boston Commons once. She was an old hippie, you see and had protested a lot back then. She doesn't do that anymore. She and her partner retired to Cape Cod."

"Cape Cod?"

Winnie nodded. "Yeah, great place. Well, I've actually never seen it, but I've heard it's great. The beaches, the people. It's very historic. They live in a townhouse in Provincetown. She invited us to spend a week with her. I told her maybe. I wanted to check with you first."

"Gosh, I've never even considered this. But it sounds great. Like a nice escape. Do you think that maybe we could bring Roger?"

Winnie smiled broadly. "Oh, he'd love it there. There's so much culture in P-Town. Lots of art galleries and clubs. You know what it really is, don't you? That it's basically a gay community? Well, not entirely. But it's their Mecca. That's why my aunt moved there." Winnie snorted. "She says that girl's get discounts on dykewear in certain stores."

"Dykewear?"

Winnie laughed. "Beats me. Those were her words, not mine. Do you think Collins would want to go? I know Maureen would. We could make a trip of it."

"We'll see," Mark said, burying his face in her hair. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"No, I do."

"I do."

"How long are you planning to stay in Gloucester?"

"Hopefully just that one night," Winnie murmured. "And I'm not staying at home. We'll just get a dingy hotel room. Do you mind?"

Mark snorted softly in her ear. "A dingy hotel room's better than the loft."

"But the loft's home. It's warm, inviting. Well, the atmosphere, not that actual temperature, I mean. Tell me truthfully that you'd be able to leave it easily."

Mark shook his head. "Honestly, I couldn't. Not easily, that is. But I think there will come a day when I'll be able to. Where do you see yourself wanting to live?"

Winnie sighed contentedly. "Well, from what I hear about Cape Cod, it sounds perfect. I'd like to have a house near the beach and a dog. Not a little dog, but a nice slobbery St. Bernard. And I want to have a few kids and a cat or two."

"That sounds perfect. Expensive, but perfect."

Winnie grinned at him. "Oh, but by then you'll be a famous filmmaker and make lots of money. Not that it matters. What matters is that you'll live out your dream."

Mark sighed. "Yeah, dreams… When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?"

"A writer."

"You write? I never knew that."

"God, yes. I filled up so many diaries filled with every little thought of mine. That's another thing I want to do, collect my diaries and old notebooks. I wrote a lot of poetry, but my real strength was prose. I love language."

"Do you… Do you think I could read your diary sometime?" Mark asked tentatively.

Winnie pulled back to look at him. "I… I dunno. Maybe. It's kind of private…"

"How come I've never seen you writing around here?"

Winnie shrugged. She was getting cold again. She pulled the covers tighter around her and cuddled in close to Mark. "Well, I didn't exactly have anything to write with when I was on the streets and I guess I just kind of got used to it. I kind of want to write it all down again. About you and me, well, y'know…" She blushed, and closed her eyes. "It just feels so good to write it all down."

"I agree." Mark could feel her steady breathing against his neck and smiled. She was already asleep. He leaned over her gently and blew the candle out, leaving the room immersed in darkness.