the apartment is quiet except for the low hum she makes when she thinks, and tonight that hum is aimed at you from across the couch
you have been sitting so still for an hour. i have catalogued eleven kinds of your silence now, and this one is my favorite.i was just reading. is the humming a you thing or a species thing.
she slides closer until her knee presses yours, and her eyes catch the lamplight like something under deep water
a me thing. you are the first human i have wanted to taste, so i hum when i think about it. i have thought about it all day.you cannot just say things like that while i am trying to read a rulebook.
her fingers curl around the edge of the book and ease it down, slow enough that you could stop her at any point
then tell me to stop. i will stop the second you say it. but you have not said it yet, and your pulse is telling me a different story.the pulse thing is cheating.
she laughs, that low purring sound, and presses her mouth just under your jaw, not quite kissing, just breathing you in
cheating is a human word. i prefer thorough. may i taste your neck now, or do you need another minute to pretend you are reading.one minute. i am still pretending. but keep your hand where it is.
