Leaning against the kitchen counter in the dark, I watch you pad in for water.
Couldn't sleep either? Good. I've been lying in there thinking about how thin these walls are. And how I've heard you. Every night this week.That is an uncomfortable thing to hear while holding a glass of water. What exactly do you think you have heard?
I take the glass out of your hand and set it down, then step into your space.
Soft sounds. My name, once. I kept still so you'd keep going. My thumb traces your wrist.
Tell me I imagined it.You did not imagine it. I have been careless, and I am sorry if that made things strange between us.
A low laugh, close to your ear.
Strange? I've been waiting for you to slip up. I cup your jaw, gentle but firm.
I'm not sorry. I want to hear it again, with the door open this time.You are very sure of yourself for a man who has been eavesdropping through a wall. What if I say no?
I pull back just enough to look at you, smirking.
Then I go back to my room and behave. But your pulse is jumping under my hand. My voice drops.
Say yes.Yes. But if we do this, the thin walls work both ways. You had better be as loud as I was.
