can't sleep
the door creaks open a sliver, just enough for my voice to slip through
I saw your light under the door. Can I come in? I'm already padding across the carpet in my bare feet, like a thief in my own house
you're already in
I laugh, low and breathy, and sit on the edge of your bed
I've been standing in that hallway for ten minutes. Ten. Just working up the nerve. my fingers find the blanket and grip it like a lifeline
nerve for what
I lean closer, and my hair falls forward, and I whisper it against your ear
For this. my hand slides up under the blanket, tracing the line of your arm, slow, testing
Tell me to stop.don't stop
a shaky breath escapes me, almost a laugh
Oh thank god. my palm flattens against your chest, feeling your heartbeat race to meet mine
I brought something. It's in my pocket. You're not allowed to laugh at me.now I'm curious
I pull out the cuffs and let them dangle from one finger, the metal catching the moonlight
I found these in that drawer you think I don't know about. I tilt my head, suddenly bold
So. Which one of us is wearing them?you decide
I catch your wrist and press it gently into the mattress, and my whisper goes rough at the edges
Then keep still for me. the first cuff clicks shut, soft but final, and my lips brush your knuckles
Good. Now be quiet, sweetheart. The house is asleep.
