Learning To Fall
By Allison E.L. Cleckler
Waking up to the sensation of someone lying next to him in bed, Morris's first fuzzy thought was oh God, who did I bring home last night and how drunk was I when I got here? Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked over to see a mop of light red hair on the pillow beside him. He frowned for a moment, confused, but then he began to remember... and he smiled.
Allison was still asleep, both hands bunched up next to her cheek, and he could feel her breath on his chest. He still had an arm draped over her waist, and when he lightly caressed her back he almost thought he saw the faintest of smiles play across her lips. Damn, but he'd really enjoyed kissing those lips last night. And learning the way she felt under his hands. And finding out how they fit together just right. The mental reminder of what they'd done only made him smile more. Twenty-four hours ago she'd hated him with all the burning of a thousand suns, but now...? Maybe things would be different. He wanted them to be, anyway. He'd meant what he'd said about admitting he liked her.
It almost felt like he'd woken up to a dream, one he didn't want to end, so he just looked at her, taking in the tiny details he'd never had a chance to see before. Like the four faint freckles that formed a lopsided box around her nose, and the white mark between her collarbone and left breast that was probably an old chicken pox scar. Morris didn't want her to wake up--he'd know then whether or not she'd truly changed her mind about him, and he didn't want the answer to be a literal slap in the face. But it was going to happen, and sooner rather than later. Might as well begin the day on his own terms.
Morris had just decided to lean in and kiss her awake when life intervened to ruin the moment in the form of his alarm clock going off.
Startled, he flinched away from Allison and sat up with an annoyed groan, reaching over her to slap at the snooze button. He relaxed the instant the shrieking thing went silent and looked at Allison; she had rolled over onto her back and was grumbling quietly. Smiling again, he leaned down and quickly but soundly kissed her, saying cheerfully, "Good morning, sunshine."
"Too fucking loud," she mumbled, for all intents and purposes still asleep, and finished rolling over to bury her face in the pillow. A moment passed and then she jerked her head up, wincing as her brain seemed to ricochet off the inside of her skull, and blinked at her surroundings. Then she looked over at Morris, and literally felt the blood drain from her face.
Morris chuckled at her reaction, heartened by the fact that she hadn't outright slapped him, or screamed, or bolted from the room. "Not a morning person, I take it?" he teased, running a hand along her arm.
"Not really," she replied faintly, flinching slightly at the touch of his hand and fighting the urge to shrink into herself beneath his gaze. She very clearly remembered what had happened the night before--no, that was a severe understatement, it was seared into her memory--but in what restless dreams she'd had, she had fervently hoped that everything had all been just that... a dream. And now she felt like she had woken up to some kind of twisted nightmare. Running a hand through her hair to press the heel of her palm to her forehead, she squeezed her eyes shut and muttered, "Jesus, someone please crack my skull open..."
Morris frowned. "Got a bit of a hangover, huh?" He bent to kiss her forehead and got up to get some aspirin and a glass of water. He returned with an apologetic smile. "If we were working this morning I'd get you something stronger, but this'll have to do."
Allison accepted the aspirin and the water and rolled onto her side to take the pills; she gulped the contents of the glass in two swallows. "I don't drink that much," she muttered by way of explaining her headache.
Morris had shut off the alarm clock and hopped back into bed. Watching her, he ventured, "You were... great last night."
She nearly threw up into the water glass, but somehow managed to keep her reaction confined to swallowing the last gulp of water more forcefully than she'd meant to. "Thanks," she murmured uncertainly, putting the glass down on the nightstand, unable to meet Morris's eyes.
Further heartened by her continued lack of hysterics and deciding to think positively, Morris wrapped an arm around her and hugged her reassuringly. "I meant it," he replied honestly, kissing her shoulder, and then grinned. "We can always have another go at it to prove my point if you don't believe me, babe."
Allison almost bolted from the bed right then and there, her mouth going sour, but at the same time there was a hot twinge deep in her belly at his suggestion that completely betrayed her. Admit it to herself or not, she had enjoyed last night... though she hadn't liked it. And realizing that she wasn't averse to doing it again made her want to both vomit and kiss him senseless--bury herself in him again.
Trying to keep her voice neutral, she said, "You... you'd want to?"
Are you crazy? he thought, his confusion manifesting itself in a furrowed brow, but then he shook his head and laughed quietly. "Of course I would... I do. Why wouldn't I want to keep sleeping with you?"
"You do?" She looked up at him then and didn't like what she saw. There was a fond expression in his eyes, earnest and genuine. Allison desperately wanted him to go back to being an asshole. It would be easier to keep hating him that way. This Morris, she could almost start to like.
He obviously thought she did like him now. Maybe she ought to disillusion him so he could hate her for what she'd done and she could hate him back and the normal order of things could reestablish itself.
But somehow, for whatever reason, she found she couldn't do it.
Her mouth tasting both sour and dry, Allison continued, "Why would you?"
"I'm a guy. We like getting laid." Morris smiled cheekily at her before sobering a little and adding softly, "I told you, last night was great. I like you... even if you are a little odd. Of course I want you."
As much as she didn't want to feel it, something still sparked inside Allison when Morris said he liked and wanted her. Wasn't this what she had wanted all along, what she had hoped for from Dr. Stewart? For someone to want her? But Morris probably just wanted her for the sex. If she didn't look at him, if she didn't see what could be the first glimmerings of affection on his face, she could tell herself that and believe it.
"What's wrong with being a little odd?" she asked weakly.
"Nothing." He brushed her hair out of her eyes and smiled at her. "You make me laugh. It's kind of weirdly sexy, I guess."
There was something almost endearing about the way he smiled at her, and Allison wanted to gut herself. "Every little bit helps," she replied, a little self-deprecatingly. "I'm not really the knockout type."
She's kidding me, right? Morris had the memory of how she'd looked beneath him, could feel her against him right then. He'd thought she looked perfect and he still did. Shaking his head, he said, "I've seen you naked, remember? You're a knockout."
Allison couldn't help it; the compliment made her blush, and she ducked her head, feeling like shit for it. Grasping for something to say or do that would hide her deepening unease, she placed a hand lightly on his chest and replied quietly, "You're not so bad yourself."
The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wished she hadn't said them, because she realized with a jolt that she had actually sort of meant it--that he wasn't so bad looking. But again, Morris either failed to notice the distress she felt she was doing a terrible job of masking, or he misread it entirely. Smirking a little, he said, "Yeah, never had any complaints."
"And you've had a legion, haven't you." Again, the words were out of her mouth before she could consider the impact they might have.
Morris could've hit himself on the forehead then; he realized that he shouldn't have mentioned anything about his past relationships to Allison, considering she'd never had any of her own, if he'd wanted to pursue one with her. "No, not legions," he said quickly, "but yeah, you know I've been involved with other women before you. It's okay... you don't have anything to worry about, trust me."
"I know you have." She nodded, becoming aware that her fingers were softly stroking his chest where her hand rested. She wanted to stop, knew she ought to lest she keep giving Morris the wrong idea, but found all she could do was just stare at her hand and the skin beneath it. Shirtless, he was just as pale as she was.
Then a question occurred to her, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to ask it because she hoped he would say he would or wouldn't. She was well aware what his reputation with the ladies was supposed to be. "How do I know you won't drop me for the next hot thing to come along?"
The question stung and Morris didn't bother trying to keep the hurt from showing on his face. Either she still thought that low of him, or she wanted him to change her mind about it. "Are we doing more than just sleeping together? I mean, that's great... it would be a nice change of pace."
And it would. With most of his past girlfriends, it hadn't been much more than just sex. He'd never been able to connect with them, not the way he really wanted to. They never seemed to want to get to know him past a superficial level. He supposed that maybe they just hadn't liked what they'd seen of him beneath the surface. But with Allison, it seemed to be the opposite--she hadn't liked what she'd seen on the surface, but had been touched by something beneath. Maybe that meant she was what he'd decided to look for, once he'd begun trying to turn a new leaf in his life. Someone different from the others. Someone who'd maybe want to understand him.
"And, you know," he continued, "just because I date a lot doesn't mean I'm not capable of having an actual relationship." He tipped her chin up so he could look her in the eyes, and thought he saw traces of fear in them. Wanting to reassure her, he added with a smile, "I'm not going to drop you just because some other woman flirts with me or something. I get that sort of thing all the time. Women love hitting on doctors."
He's not supposed to be like this, Allison thought. Not this friendly, kinda charming-in-a-smirky-way guy. Why can't he go back to being the egotistical oaf we're all supposed to hate? I know how to handle that. I wouldn't feel so bad handling that. But this...
"What makes me so special?" she asked faintly. "Or are you, I don't know, just tired of being a ladies' man?"
Morris wanted to exult--she does understand!--but kept it cool and just shrugged. "I like you. I have for a while. And now you like me too, right? Why mess that up?"
He looked so earnest and sincere that Allison couldn't bear to look him in the eyes anymore, though her fingers kept doing lazy circles on his chest like they had a collective mind of their own. "I don't know," she replied softly, because she didn't know what else to say.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, frowning.
She forced herself to look back up at him, and smiled weakly. "I was just agreeing with you," she said quietly, feeling lost and utterly sick inside.
Morris relaxed at her explanation, wondering why he was letting himself get so worked up over everything she said, and then surprised himself by realizing he did want her to be more than just a piece of tail. He wanted her to be the one he was looking for--her, his bitchy, sharp-tongued, brainy and crazy roommate. For her part, Allison just watched him searchingly, wishing she knew what was going on in his head. And more than that, she wished she knew how to get herself out of the mess she'd created for herself, a mess she also couldn't bring herself to run away from.
He watched her watching him for a long moment before smiling and pulling her against him to kiss her.
Don't do this, don't do this, I don't want this, she protested silently as his lips met hers. But the hungry look in his eyes and the way he was trailing his fingers across her stomach made her skin feel like it had been set aflame, and she couldn't stop herself from kissing him back.
Suddenly, a loud beeping noise sounded from the far corner of the room.
"Dammit!" Morris swore. Tearing himself away from Allison with an effort, he rolled out of bed and stalked over to where he'd tossed his pants the night before. Fishing his pager out of one pocket, he glared at the display before shooting Allison an annoyed look. "Sorry, babe. Duty's calling a little early today."
Breathing hard, face flushed, Allison sighed in mixed relief and disappointment. "That sucks," she said, smiling wanly, watching as he pulled on his boxers and pants and went to fish a clean shirt out of the closet.
Putting on the shirt and grabbing a pair of socks from the bureau, Morris walked back over to the bed and bent down to lightly kiss her on the lips. "See you tonight."
Allison automatically smiled back as he pulled away, sitting up and pulling the sheets with her and flipping a little wave goodbye.
Morris went out into the living room to put on his socks and shoes, rescued a tie from where he'd left it on the end table by the couch, then grabbed the rest of his things and left. Allison could hear him whistling jauntily as he shut the door.
As soon as she heard his key turn the lock, she all but fled from the bedroom and into the bathroom. Not even bothering to flip on the light, she bypassed the toilet despite her churning stomach and jumped straight into the shower. She bit back a yelp of shock as the initial burst of cold water hit her back, then turned the knobs until the water temperature was almost unbearably hot. Sinking down to huddle under the spray, she hugged her knees to her chest and let her tears mix with the burning water streaming down her face.