aknotts

It's like pressing on a sunburn after a long, fun day on the beach. Falling off your bicycle the first day you remove your training wheels. Getting dressed up and not going anywhere. When I say I love you and you don't reply. When we flirt and we take it too far. We're at the bottom of a hill and disappointed that it's all over. And it's just too much work to go back up, to where we used to be. So we pretend but it's not enough.

The ends of her hair are like the wings on her back and he turns onto his side, away, because if he can't sleep through the night he won't spend it admitting he loves the feel of her hair splayed across his chest. And she had been reaching but lies there staring at his back, empty handed, the bite aches and her abdomen is full and emptying through her eyes. And the clock tells her it's tomorrow. And she gets up and dresses. And he's not following because it's still dark outside so he has a few hours left to find her When she's gone, out the door and chasing the sun and being alone is invigorating and the bruises don't hurt any

 The sun is spilling in through the window, though he's sure he had drawn the curtain shut before laying down last night. He walks into the living room squinting past the brightness and finding his way across the room with his hand to pull down the blinds at least, it's so bright. But he's halfway across the room when his sight returns and he stops, looking down at her bathing in the light, eyes closed, back straighter than he thought she could draw it. Her head is titled sideways so her neck is exposed and the marks washed away by the light and her hands are tucked in close to her stomach, fingers splayed across her lower abdomen. The form