This is the last chapter before the epilogue! Please don't forget to review.
…
JACKSON
When my girl comes rocketing across the parking lot, I feel nothing but unadulterated happiness. The smile on her face is wide and uncontrollable and she's completely unbridled in how she expresses her joy. She's come so far in showing her emotions now that she's free, and I've been soaking up every moment.
She leaps into my arms with a gleeful shriek, and her body collides with mine at full force. Entwined around me like a vine, I spin once and kiss her face all over, surprised at how badly I missed her when she was only gone for a couple hours.
We get in the car, and April is a bundle of energy. She tosses her backpack in the back seat like she's been doing it all her life, then leans over the console to kiss my cheek playfully.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you all day," she gushes, and I take her hand and kiss the knuckles repeatedly.
"That makes two of us," I say. "Wait. Hold on. Let me look at you."
She turns to face me, beaming. Her freckles stand out in the September afternoon light, twinkling against her sun-kissed skin. I study her features, stroke my pretend beard, and nod a few times.
"What?" she says, giggling. "What are you looking at?"
"Yep, I thought so," I say. "You got prettier while you were gone."
"Jackson!" she sings, batting me away and shaking her head. Her hair tumbles behind her shoulders and her eyes pinch closed as she laughs, pushing on my chest. "I did not. Be quiet."
"You did, though," I say, cupping one cheek and laughing along with her. "You wanna go get some ice cream?"
"Hmm… no," she says, which surprises me.
"What? My baby turning down sweets?" I say, eyebrows up. "Did I hear you right?"
"I wanna go home…" she says, both hands on one of my thighs now, dangerously high. "I wanna go home and have me and you time."
"Oh," I say, eyes wide with a smile on my lips. "I see. I see… alright. Let's do it, then, high school girl. Let's go home."
She's bouncy in the car, tossing her hair to the tune of the beat on the radio, all smiles. "I like this song," she says.
It's Despacito by Justin Bieber, a song that easily the rest of the world hates and has hated for months now, so I can't help but laugh.
"I'll download it for you," I say.
"Like I know what that means," she giggles. "Wait. Do I have a phone now?"
"Yep," I tell her, proudly. "Bright and shiny and new, just for you. Mom dropped it off earlier. You're on our plan."
"What's the plan?"
I laugh softly. "Don't worry about it."
We take the long way home and she sticks one arm out the window, closing her eyes against the sunshine with a serene smile on her face. Her hair billows around her head until we slow down and pull up in the driveway, coming to a stop outside our apartment building.
"We're home!" she sings, grabbing her backpack before tumbling out of the car and bounding towards the gate. I watch her from a few steps behind, grinning bemusedly at her childlike glee. "Are you coming? You have the keys, keys man."
"Sure do," I say, wrapping an arm around her shoulders while I unlock the front door with my free hand. When it comes open, I give her a quick kiss on the temple before walking inside, and she hurries ahead in pursuit of the rectangular box on the counter.
"My phone!" she says, then unboxes it. She gasps, stares at the black, shiny screen, and turns it back and forth. She presses a few buttons and nothing comes of it, so she looks at me with confusion. "It's broken."
"It's not broken, kitty," I say, smiling. "I'll just have to activate it for you later. But right now, I wanna hear about your day."
She sets the phone down and kicks her shoes off, giggling high-pitched and mischievous while scampering down the hall towards our bedroom.
"Gotta catch me first!" she shrieks, socked feet flying.
I smirk to myself and follow her, keeping my pace at a slow walk. When I peek my head into our bedroom, her jeans are already on the floor and she's lying flat on the bed in her bra and underwear, knees bent.
"You're slow," she says, still grinning.
"You're in some type of hurry," I say playfully, sauntering over to join her. I sit down and she pushes herself up on her knees, winding her arms around my neck to put her face close to mine. She kisses my cheek first, nuzzling it with her nose after, then moves to my ear. She takes the lobe between her lips first, then her teeth as she sucks on it gently.
Of course, my body reacts. It's her. But still, I don't want to gloss over the fact that she just completed her very first day of school ever.
"What did you do today?" I ask, hands on her waist as she lifts on knee to straddle me. I drag my fingers up and down her bumpy spine while she looks into my eyes, weighing what she wants to say.
"Hmm…" she says, leaning forward to kiss my neck. I'm half hard at this point, hands mapping across the expanse of her back. I love the way she feels on top of me; I can't help it. "I made a friend."
"For real?"
She nods, closing her lips around my Adam's apple. "Her name's Steph."
"Nice," I say. "What's she like?"
"I don't wanna think about Steph while I'm making out with you," she says, and I laugh.
"Fair. How were your classes?"
She shrugs one shoulder in a typical high school fashion. "Fine," she says, pressing her torso flush to mine. I feel her belly as it moves in and out, and I smile to myself. Her stomach is one of my favorite parts of her body - soft and vulnerable, pale and cute.
"Did you learn anything?" I ask, lying on my back and taking her with me.
A small gust of air escapes her as we both hit the mattress, and she exhales into my mouth. I let my hands skim lower on her back until I reach her ass, then take two firm handfuls to jiggle the extra skin.
"I learned what gay means," she says, right after I slip my hands inside her underwear to touch her skin-on-skin. "Do you know about that?"
I resist the urge to laugh, because it's not funny. Well, it is and it's not. It's not funny how sheltered she was, but it's funny that she thinks I might not know, either. We really have been living in two entirely different worlds.
"Yeah," I say. "How'd you learn about that?"
She sits up and rests her weight on my stomach, knees bent under her, hands pressing on my ribcage. "This girl said some other girl was looking at me because she thought I was pretty, or something. Like… in a gay way? But then, the actual girl said that wasn't it. She just didn't know who I was. She said it was gross to check out other girls in the locker room, even if you are gay." She pauses for a moment, and I stare at her pensive face while she relives the story. "Girls can like girls?" she asks. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah," I say, running two hands up her sides to hold her ribs. "And guys can like guys, too."
"Oh," she says, eyebrows furrowing. She's quiet for a long moment, and I'm pretty sure of what's going through her mind. "With… sex…" she stammers, somewhat troubled. "How?"
"Well," I say, clearing my throat. "My mom can go in more detail, if you want. She's the expert. But all I know is that anal sex is an option for gay men, also oral. Lesbians can do oral, too - anyone can. You just need a mouth. And there's plenty of like, toys and stuff."
"Toys?" she says.
I take a deep breath. "Remember how I used my electric toothbrush on you, the second time I got you off?"
Her cheeks blush tomato-red. She covers them with her hands, looks away, and nods.
"Well, it's kinda like that. Except for way better than a toothbrush. I'm probably giving the worst fuckin' explanation ever, though, and not doing these people any justice. So, if you want someone smart to tell you, ask my mom."
"You're smart," she says, leaning forward to rest her forearms on my chest. "You're very smart."
I chuckle and mess with the clip of her bra as she touches my nose with hers. "You know, you're the first person besides my mom to ever tell me that," I say.
"Why?" she asks. "You got into all those colleges. They all wanted you."
I shrug. "My name helps. I get good grades, but I always acted like a dumb fuck in school. I don't know. With you around… you made me realize I don't have to be like that. I don't know why I was doing it. You make me wanna try. You make me wanna be better."
Her eyes, half-lidded, blink all the way closed as she kisses me slow and soft on the mouth. She frames my face with her hands and lingers for a while, and I keep a good hold around her lower back.
When she pulls away, I tuck a piece of flyaway hair behind her ear and look at her gentle features. The graceful slope of her nose covered in freckles, her long, curly eyelashes, her perfect, bow-shaped lips. This close up, she almost looks like a painting. Like she's not even real.
A while later, I get April on her back, legs spread with her underwear finally off. She has her hands on my head, running her fingers through my growing hair, and her eyes on my face.
I try and keep my eyes on hers, but they're tempted to look somewhere a bit different. I'm obsessed with her body, and knowing the most intimate part by heart is like a drug for me. No one else - absolutely no one - has seen her like this. She hasn't even been kissed by anyone else but me. I have every part of her.
Good thing she has every part of me, too.
I stroke her casually while I begin to kiss her outer lips, dragging my thumb through the wiry curls between her legs. I feel her heartbeat located inside her body, and it's my plan to make it speed up as much as possible. I flatten my tongue and lick her while keeping a steady rhythm, and watch her face contort from how good it feels.
"Mmm… Jackson," she moans, lifting her hips. She tugs on my ears forcefully, which makes me laugh low my throat. "Oh!" she whimpers, responding to the rumble of my voice against her heat. "Do that again. Please, god, do it again."
I press my lips together over her clit and shake my head back and forth, buzzing my lips just slightly and humming while I go. She gasps dramatically, ribs pushing through her skin as she loses her breath, and reaches to grip the slats of the headboard to stay grounded to earth.
"Ugh, god!" she says loudly, throwing her head to the side.
I wear a smile on my face while I keep at her, putting pressure on just the right spots while stimulating her all over. Her body begins to shake and her expression turns desperate, thighs slackening as wide as they'll go, and she comes with one short, loud scream and a jerk of her entire form.
I continue to lick her while she comes down, stroking her belly with my fingers softly. I pull away and watch with satisfaction as her arousal drips out from her pulsing lips, very slowly between them until it reaches the swell of her ass. I bury my face between her thighs again and slowly clean her with my tongue, making sure I cover every last inch before resurfacing.
She's panting when I look at her again, face red and chest redder. She glances at me, still perched between her legs, and flashes an exhausted smile when I run my nose through her tight curls and plant a deliberate kiss over them.
"Jackie," she says, and I let the nickname slide. I would never, in a million years, let someone else get away with calling me that, but she's much more than 'someone else.'
"What, baby," I say, kissing the soft skin below her bellybutton.
"Do you want me to shave there?"
I look up at her face, hands on her stomach, eyes intent. "What makes you say that?" I ask.
She shrugs and looks away, and I kiss the inside of her thigh to get her attention back. "Did someone say something to you?" I ask, already defensive. If someone is making fun of her at school, I'll make sure it never happens again. No one gets to treat her poorly - not anymore.
"No," she says. "Well, yeah. Kind of. I heard something."
"Heard what?"
"Some boy talking about how this girl he was with had it shaved," she says, quietly, like he's in the room and he'll hear. "And it seemed like he liked it. Do you not like that I have… hair there?"
"Number one," I begin. "It's your body. What you like, you keep. It's completely in your control, kitty, and I mean that. And number two, I happen to love your hair. It's so completely you. I wouldn't know what to do if you were shaven like some hairless cat."
She giggles and snorts, stomach moving in and out as she laughs. "Okay," she says.
"Okay," I repeat. "And we can keep talking about this kind of stuff, you know. If you have questions. I'm here to answer all your shit."
"Okay."
"Good."
"I have one more," she says, a glint in her eye.
"What's that?"
"Can we have sex now?"
I give her a smile as my answer and tuck my face into her neck to drop kisses there. She winds her arms around my back and hugs me tight, leaning her head away so I have plenty of access to her warm, dewy skin.
A few moments later, I pull away and reach for the nightstand with my erection between us. She grips my shoulders and asks, "What are you doing?"
"Grabbing a condom," I say. "Figured we should probably start… you know, if we're gonna be having sex regularly. I'm not ready for a kid, are you?"
Her eyes widen as she shakes her head. "No, no, no," she says.
I don't let any space come between our bodies while I make love to her. She presses her forehead against my neck and claws at my shoulder blades, and I kiss every inch of her skin I can reach. She's full of smiles, gasps, and sighs, and I keep my eyes trained on her face. She's everything I never knew to hope for. Everything I never thought I'd deserve.
I hold off and make sure she comes first, just because I know the sight of her letting go will push me over the edge. When she grits her teeth and furrows her eyebrows, jaw dropping to let out a desperate gasp, I know she's ready for it to happen. I slam my hips harder against hers and get my mouth on her nipples, grazing my teeth over them until she clenches my body between her thighs and lets it go with a long, salacious moan.
While I come, I nip at her jaw and earlobes and listen to her pant in my ear. I shove my pelvis forward a few more long, lasting times, until I collapse on top of her, completely spent and sated.
"I love you," she says, blinking slowly while stroking my head, neck and shoulders. "And I'm tired, but also hungry."
We order a pizza and eat it in bed with the TV on. It's an episode of Parks and Rec , a show I personally don't find funny, but April cracks up at every joke. I come to realize she's never experienced TV before, so I don't rag on her show choices.
A little while later, she falls asleep in her underwear and a big t-shirt of mine, pizza crust lain across her stomach. She's spread out diagonally, one arm bent above her head and the other strewn across her hips, mouth open as she breathes deeply. It's barely 8, but she had a long, tiring day. I won't wake her up. Instead, I sit there wired and let my thoughts run wild.
My orientation was today, and I never expected to feel like such a small fish in a big pond. Back in Chicago, people knew me. I was somebody. But at U of M, that's far from the truth. I blend in with everyone else and, while that's probably a good thing, it'll take some getting used to. I'm not sure how to go about making a good name for myself, or if I should bother at all. I've never been somewhere where my reputation hasn't preceded me. This is brand new territory.
At the same time, though, I feel guilty being overwhelmed because it's nothing compared to what April is going through. She's barely been exposed to society, and I'm whining about being nervous for college. She has every right to be the one still freaking out, but she seems to be adjusting fine.
I lean over and kiss her shoulder before getting out of bed, leaving the TV on so she won't wake up. I wander into the dining room and find her red notebook on the table, face-down. For the first time, I don't pick it up. I have the maturity to resist now, unlike before. What she puts in there is private; it's where she can write down her thoughts without being judged. Maybe I need something like that.
I meander aimlessly through the apartment, making sure everything is locked up while my mind continues at a mile a minute. I can't seem to get settled, and I don't feel good walking around alone. So, I make it back to the bedroom and stand in the door for a moment, just watching her.
She's still asleep like I left her, pizza crust and all. I can't help but chuckle lightly at the sight of her, completely uninhibited. I can't wait to see her like this for the rest of our lives - once I gave myself over to her, there was no going back. There's no way that someday, she won't be my wife.
My future is so clear with April in it. Before, it was always muddled and hard to imagine. I had no idea where I was headed, no less how to get there. But now, I'm confident I'll be able to figure it out with my favorite girl by my side. I have everything I've ever needed, and she's shown me that.
Before her, the thought of having kids never crossed my mind. Not once. But seeing her like this, so comfortable, so at-home, so free, I know we'll create a beautiful life to share with children. I can already see her with our babies, teaching them how to walk, feeding them at the table, playing in the backyard. She'll be perfect. And she'll teach me how to be good, too.
I'm not sure where we'll make a home in the future. For us, and for them. I don't know a thing about Ann Arbor, and I'm not that familiar with St. Joe, either, where the lake house is. The place I know the best, the place I know every nook and cranny of, is Chicago. I know it's not home anymore and it can't ever be again, but that doesn't stop a part of me from still wanting to go back. Without all the shit going on, of course. I wish there was some way to erase all of that and show April the city I grew up in and fell in love with. I'm sure it would scare the piss out of her, but I'd be there to protect her.
Not how I left it, though. That's too much to be protected from, and I'd be in danger, too. I would never put her in jeopardy like that. But still, there's a hole in my heart knowing that my first home will never be my home again.
But our lives don't have to be in Chicago to be wonderful. They can be wonderful anywhere, doing anything. I know that perfectly well as I look at her, spread-eagle and covered in pizza crumbs. She can make anything good.
…
I activated April's phone for her while I couldn't sleep, and when I wake up the next morning, she's already on it. She's clutching it in both hands, eyes glued to the screen, the sound at full volume while she leans against my back and plays Candy Crush.
"Any louder and you'll go deaf," I say, voice muffled by the pillow.
"Oh, you're up," she says. "I'm playing this game."
"I hear."
The series of dings and bings continues while she presses her back against mine, and I roll over to wrap my arms around her waist. She keeps the phone close, still playing, even as I slip a hand inside her shirt to dance over her ribcage.
"Jackson," she says, squirming away. "I almost beat this level."
I huff and steal a glance at the screen. "How long have you been up?" I ask.
She shrugs. I look at the phone again.
"Long enough to be on level 15," I say, then kiss the side of her face. "It's time to get ready for school."
"You?" she asks, without tearing her eyes away.
"No, knucklehead," I say. "You."
She giggles and presses her chin to her chest, still entranced. I do the only thing I can think of and slip the phone out of her grip, clicking off the screen once I do. "Hey!" she says. "You made me lose a life!"
"Unless you wanna be late…" I say, hoisting her up to rest on my stomach. "You have to get in the shower. Don't you have cross country tryouts today?"
"Yeah," she says. "But maybe I could be on the Candy Crush team instead."
"Shut your mouth," I say, laughing.
"Are you gonna be there?" she asks, tipping her head to one side.
She presses her hands flat against my chest and situates her hips, which makes me harder than I'd like to admit. Just the feeling of her center resting on me, emanating heat, is enough to get me going. She's everything with her messed-up bedhead, bleary eyes, and dusty freckles.
"Wouldn't miss it," I say. "I do have a campus tour today at 6, though."
"We can go there after," she says. "Tryouts are at 4."
"We?" I say.
"I gotta come with you," she says, kissing my chin before opening her mouth and playfully biting it. "You've been with me for every step. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't do the same?"
"A horrible one," I say, lifting her shirt to expose her naked sides. I drag my fingernails over them, and she purrs with her face tucked into my neck.
"You said I had to get up…" she whines, hugging my torso with her knees. "But you're not making it very easy."
"I know," I agree, kissing the corner of her jaw. "But we should."
"How about I get in the shower, and you make me a very fortifying breakfast?" she says, hopping off. I'm left lying there with a tent made of my boxers and a throbbing dick. It's not fair.
"Anything for you, Sporty Spice," I say.
"And lunch, too?" she says, batting her eyelashes in the way she knows will get me. "Thanks, baby!"
After she disappears into the bathroom, I lie there with my eyes on the ceiling and chuckle to myself. She has me wrapped around her finger, and I think she's begun to realize it.
…
I'm a bit out of place as I sit in the stands and watch April on the track with a bunch of other teenage girls, but I try and ignore the feeling. I was in high school not that long ago, but since then I feel like I've aged much more than I actually have.
Still, it's cute to see her out there watching the other girls stretch and copying their movements. She's in a pair of neon pink athletic shorts and a black racerback tank top, orange sports bra showing through it. Before going out onto the track, she'd caught up with me and asked if her outfit was inappropriate because her bra was visible, and I spent a good five minutes convincing her it was fine.
She waves at me with a beaming smile before the drills start, and I shoot her one back. She's the fucking cutest. And a damn fast runner, too - faster than I thought she'd be. By the time tryouts are over, she's outrun almost every other girl in sprints and I have no doubt she'll make it onto the team.
"How was I?" she pants, drinking from a green Gatorade water bottle while walking out of the stadium and towards the locker room, where she'll shower.
"Fuckin' amazing, kitty," I say. "You didn't tell me you're fast as hell."
"Raced my sisters," she says, still out of breath. "Always won."
"I can tell," I say, then pat her ass while she heads into the gym. "Meet me out here after."
I lean against the car while I wait and can't help worrying about the tour. Not because I'm nervous for the actual thing, it should be fun - especially with April there. But I'm worried because with every day that passes, the start of school gets closer. The concept of college has always scared me, and now that it's more real than ever, I'm terrified. I don't feel ready at all.
"I'm ready!" April calls, halfway across the parking lot. Her hair lies in wet, bouncy curls on her shoulders, and she's back in her regular clothes - a thigh-length bouncy skirt and a camisole with a cardigan over it.
"Hey, sexy," I say, then open the driver's side.
She rolls her eyes and throws her stuff in the back. "Be quiet," she says.
She dances along to the radio as we make the drive to campus, and I watch her from the corner of my eye. It doesn't take too long, but her hair has dried into spirals by the time we find a parking spot.
"Alright," I say. "Let's find my group."
She takes my hand as we wind through campus, almost getting lost a handful of times before I find the people I'm supposed to be matched with. In my group are others who haven't declared a major yet, and are also living off-campus. They wanted to pair us with as many like-minded people as they could, I guess.
It's hard for me to pay attention to the leader, but April does for the both of us. She lets go of my hand and writes notes in the red notebook, chewing on the end of her pen as she listens.
I watch her, and notice other people watching her, too. At first, it's benign. A mom's eyes on her, or a little sibling's. I start to get pissed, though, when I notice a bunch of other guys' eyes on her. All over, from the top of her head, to her ass, to her legs - they make sure to cover every inch.
"Baby," I say, trying to keep my voice low and casual. "Baby."
Still, she doesn't hear. She's caught up in whatever's being said, just like I should be.
"April," I say. "Kitty."
"Hmm?" she says, eyebrows up as she turns to look.
I take one glance at her face and soften instantly. I wind an arm around her lower back and pull her body flush to mine, letting the other guys know without words spoken that she's taken.
By the time the tour is over, my arm is still around April and she has one hand resting over mine as we walk back to the car. She's going over her notes and I'm staring down this idiot who can't seem to take a hint. He's walking the same path we are, eyes still glued to my girlfriend.
I keep my eyes on him, burning into his skin, and squeeze her closer while she talks. She breaks for a moment, giggling, then continues. When he still doesn't look away, I kiss her cheek while she's in the middle of explaining something, and she squeals with amusement.
"Jackson," she says, stutter-stepping to match my footsteps. "Stop... what are you doing?"
I debate painting over the truth, but then decide better of it. "Guys back there were looking at you," I say.
"What?" she says. "When did it become a crime to look at people?"
"In a way they shouldn't," I finish, tying up the loose ends for her. "They shouldn't have their eyes on you like that. You're… I don't know. Mine."
"Of course I am," she says, flipping closed the notebook with a small sound. "We both know that. So, why do you have to prove it to random men?"
I shrug. "It's stupid, I guess. It's a guy thing."
"Sounds territorial," she notes.
"Well, kind of," I say. "I just don't want anybody getting the wrong idea. I don't want anyone to hurt you or touch you or anything like that."
She furrows her eyebrows. "Someone would touch me?" She inhales deeply and lets it out. "Like what happened to my mom?"
"No, no," I say. "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry, kitty. I just… I just don't want guys getting any ideas. I know how they think. So… I just kinda get protective of you. You're important to me. So, it's second nature."
She replants my hand on her hip and keeps it there with a firm pat. "You keep me safe," she says, then turns to nuzzle my nose. "And I'll keep you safe, too."
…
The night before my first day of school is a Sunday. I'm lying in bed and April is on her stomach doing homework, ankles crossed near my head. I have one hand resting on her ass while I stare into space, thinking about everything and nothing.
I listen to the subtle scratch of her pencil on paper and I'm comforted by it. I'm comforted by her presence alone alongside me; that's all I need. We don't need to say a single word, this is enough. This is how we find ourselves most nights, content in our bed, doing whatever.
When she finishes, she puts her supplies on the floor and rests her head on her folded hands.
"Do you think Allie is okay?" she asks, out of the blue.
I blink hard, orienting myself while trying to figure out how to answer the question. "I would hope so," I say, giving her the truth. I don't know for certain, and she's aware of that. She doesn't know, either. There's no way we could.
"Me, too," she whispers, sounding introspective. "I just wish there was a way to rescue her."
"I know," I say, and stroke the back of her thigh with my thumb. "I know."
"But what can we do?" she asks.
I sigh. "Wait," I say. "And hope she'll leave, too, once she turns 18."
"She will," April says. "I know she will. And she'll find us. She just has to know where to look."
"You should try and write to her," I suggest.
She sits with that for a moment before saying, "I will. Yeah, I will."
A while later she sits up, cross-legged, and faces me. "Hey, beautiful," I say, both hands folded behind my head now.
A soft smile graces her lips as she crawls over and rests her body right on top of mine. She leans her head against my chest and lets her legs fall between mine, and I hold her close.
"Are you nervous for tomorrow?" she asks.
"I'm going fuckin' crazy," I admit, with a laugh.
"Baby…" she says, lifting up to cup my jaw. "What can I do?"
I shrug and move my lips to one side. "You're already doing it," I say.
"I can make you feel good," she offers, drawing slow circles over my bare skin with a fingernail.
"You don't have to," I say.
"You don't want to?"
"Well, I didn't say that," I reply. "I said, you don't have to. But, if you want to…"
"I do," she says, inching backwards to pull my sweatpants off. I watch her with amused fascination while she strokes the bulge through my boxers, and she keeps a devious eye on me, too.
She doesn't suck me off frequently, so when she does, I relish it. She gets better every time, and I've been trying to get better than lasting for all of five seconds. She's into swallowing now, too. She always comes up smiling, which is baffling to me, but it turns me on like nothing else. She's a fucking phenomenon.
We fuck hard and rough, and it works - it takes my mind completely off school tomorrow that feels like impending doom. Instead, I stay focused on her and the way her body responds to me. I memorize her facial expressions so I can recall them tomorrow when I have to spend a day without her, and count the freckles on the bridge of her nose. She sighs my name and clutches my shoulders, digs her nails into my neck, and moans loudly when she falls apart.
I spend my orgasm with my face in her neck, hips jerking forcefully against her pelvis. I drink in the way she smells and tastes, and know I could never forget a single thing about her.
"You'll be fine tomorrow," she tells me, once it's over. I'm still lying on top of her, practically crushing her small form with my body weight. She doesn't seem to mind, though - she's tickling my back like it's nothing at all. "I know you will. If I was fine on my first day, you definitely will be."
There's truth in that, I know. It doesn't exactly calm my irrational nerves, but the logic helps me to gain a clearer perspective. Tomorrow will be fine and it'll be done before I know it. Then, I can come back home and be with her.
She falls asleep while I'm still on top of her, probably exhausted from cross country practice. I do my best at not waking her as I roll off and clean up the condom mess, and glance back at her as she drifts off, completely naked and uncaring. I love her best like this.
I drift in and out of sleep sporadically for a few hours once I go back to bed, but it's restless and shallow. After a while, I give up and just lie there, staring out the screen door opposite April. The night is sparkling, and I don't want to let it go.
"April," I whisper, one hand on her soft belly. "Baby."
"Mmm…" she groans, turning onto her side and wrapping her arms around herself. She must be cold.
"Kitty, wake up," I say.
"What…?" she asks, confused and groggy. "I'm freezing."
"I'm gonna get you some clothes," I say. "Then, I wanna show you something."
She frowns deeply and sits up, lifting her arms when I put a t-shirt over her head, then steps into a pair of cotton pajama pants with snowflakes on them. Obediently, she takes my hand as I take her out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes as we head down the hall.
"Where're we going?" she asks, voice still thick with sleep. Her footsteps shuffle slowly behind me, feet clad in a pair of pink slippers.
"You'll see," I say, then open the front door and lead her out to the yard.
We stand in the center, right in the middle of the grass. April still has her arms wrapped around her body, but she doesn't seem to be too concentrated on the cold. Instead, she's looking up at the crystal clear, midnight blue sky, seemingly entranced. I was, too, when I first noticed how beautiful it is tonight. But now, all I'm looking at is her and the way the night shines against her face.
"What are we doing out here?" she asks, a bit more awake now.
I wind my arms around her from behind and take a look at her profile. I kiss her cheek and rub my nose against the side of her face, and she leans into me like she always does.
"This is where I loved you first," I say. "In the moonlight. And I wanted to see you in it again."