The night, part 2

She lay still on her side, her eyes firmly shut but her mind fully awake. The sounds of the night trickled into her ears. The muffled chirp of crickets. The rhythmic whir of the ceiling fan. The sound of him breathing deeply and softly beside her.

She lay close enough to feel his heat, but not enough to feel his breath; close enough to smell his low musk, but not enough to taste it. She realised she did not have her blanket on, and she suddenly missed her blanket but didn't dare to pull at it lest she awaken him.

He stirred and she opened her eyes, but he only sniffed for a moment, then resumed the deep, slow breaths of sleep.

She watched his still form in the gloom of the darkened room. He lay on his side, facing her, his arms folded over his chest. She noted bitterly that he slept in his clothes - he hadn't taken them off at all throughout that night.

Her own clothes were still on her as well. At that moment, she realised her panties had bunched into a wedgie, and she reached down and gingerly adjusted them. She then felt the cold residual wetness in her underwear and her bitterness sharpened.

She thought about their lovemaking just a couple of hours before. No, it wasn't lovemaking. It had been a half-hearted attempt to consummate the awkward, uneven desire between them that neither truly wanted. She hardly knew where his lips, tongue, teeth were on her skin. He had made her nipples hurt, but she kept silent, biting her lip, knowing he couldn't see the hurt he was causing. His fingers found her wet, but just barely. Their loins had met in quick, fleeting motions whose heat never reached deep enough within her.

He'd closed his eyes and tilted his head back trance-like. Their sex took on a floating, dreamlike quality that left her wondering if he was really there. Then she realised that he wasn't there at all.

They never took off their clothes.

And never once did he look at her in the eyes. Never once did he kiss her on her lips or on her face.

And he had withdrawn without a single word. It had ended with a pause, a hesitation before he pulled away without finishing. They had both lain in the stillness of their own thoughts before drifting off to sleep.

At least, he slept. She didn't.

She thought about his reasons for wanting her, and her reasons for wanting him, and she weighed the two. The sheer size of the deficit overwhelmed her and the pain began, sharp, unwelcome and intrusive.

The blackness of the room began to take on shades of royal blue, gradually lightening to fill the room with melancholy cerulean. She watched as weak colours started to emerge out of the gloom of the half-light as the sound of crickets gave way to the chaotic quarrelling of the morning birds.

She could see his face now, lolling dully on her pillow. She stared at him hard, willing him to wake up and look at her. He didn't stir. She willed harder, silently calling him to wake up and look at her. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

His eyes half opened and he started to blink. She quickly shut her eyes and kept as still as she could. She heard his small intake of breath and the soft rustle of him turning his head. She felt the pillow lift slightly as he raised his head momentarily before carefully lowering his head again onto the pillow.

He was still, but she knew he was awake. She wondered if he knew she was awake, listening and feeling him. He hadn't turned, so he was still facing her - was he looking at her?

She felt the light grow brighter beyond her closed lids and it grew more uncomfortable to keep them closed. She counted. One. Two. Three. And she opened her eyes.

His eyes quickly darted away from her face. He lowered his gaze and fixed it onto the empty area of bedsheet that lay between them.

She searched his face long and hard, but found nothing. She could feel his body heat but he didn't move and she resisted reaching out for him. She could no longer hear his breath but could see the rise and fall of his arms crossed over his chest. The pain in her chest twisted and tightened as she lay there utterly alone beside him.

They lay a foot apart but she felt the chasm that plunged between them. He lay a touch away from her but felt so far away that she didn't think she'd ever reach him if she flew to him. The air between them felt cold and thick.

She knew then that he would never love her back.