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“You should have known.”
Marin was now on her feet, walking towards Julia, who was leaning against the back of the couch for support. She placed her hand on her back, the feeling of her fingertips like the warmth of the sun on a chilly November night.
“When was the last time you thought of me before seeing me in that theater?” Julia asked.
She looked up into Marin’s glistening eyes, lost in the comfort of her scent. Marin pulled her into a hug, Julia’s face nestled into the curve of her neck. She still smelled like feminine spice, like fresh apple pie during the holidays.
“Every day,” she breathed into her hair, “every single day I thought of you. Every day I remembered what we had. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize how special it was.”
They clung to each other like it was the last thing they had left. They sobbed into hair, onto skin, making it sticky and wet. Everything was felt in those fingertips, the pounding of their heartbeats reverberating back and forth.
“I’m so sorry,” Marin cried. “I wish I could take it all back.”
Julia looked up into those crystal eyes, awkwardly wiping the tears from her cheeks. Just months ago, she would have given anything to have those eyes looking at her like they were. She dreamed about it, and on some days she even prayed. But now?
That’s when Marin kissed her.
She placed a gentle hand on her cheek and pulled her into her lips before Julia could even recognize what was happening. They rushed together like rain on damp dirt, soaking up every inch, taking every breath within her.
Marin pulled her closer, lips lost in the time it took to find Julia’s again. At first it was slow, finding that familiar rhythm again. Then her hands slid down to Julia’s side and her breath was stolen. Marin pulled away and smiled.
Before she would have given anything to bring her back, anything to feel her velvet skin. But this feels wrong. She should push her away, should remind her of all the reasons she left in the first place. Instead, she pulled Marin back to her, desperate to remind her of everything she lost, desperate to be the one thing that holds her together.
Marin pinned Julia to the back of the couch–her spine arching to reach her face. They kissed so passionately–hands tangled in clothes, in skin, in hair–they fell over the couch in a heap, laughing as their fingers found their place once again beneath clothes.
Kisses grew deeper and hands traveled farther until Julia’s shirt was on the floor and Marin’s clung around her neck. Julia followed her lips as she stood and walked backwards to the bedroom. She followed. She would follow her to the ends of the Earth, to hell if that’s what it took.
They fell into the bedroom–quite literally–Marin still walking backwards as she tumbled to the floor. Julia rolled on top of her, straddling her at her hips. As she kissed her–Marin’s hands traveled beneath the loose waistband of her sweats–everything she feared came rushing back.
She wished for this. She imagined this. They’d been here before. They’d done this a million times, but it felt different. It was different.
They began inching towards the bed, their lips never parting. Julia pulled Marin’s jeans off, allowing her hands to linger at the zipper longer than she needed. She soaked up every inch of her, drinking in her taste and scent as she trailed along her body.
But...
Marin stood and pulled her to the edge of the bed. She picked her up–strength that didn’t match her slim build–and plopped her down in the fluff of the comforter. She smiled as she dipped down again to kiss her neck. She traveled down the swell of her breasts, to the line on her stomach, kissing her hip bone as she pulled those ratty sweatpants off.
Marin paused for a moment, lost in the sight of her–lust in her eyes as her lips parted just slightly–and then bent down to kiss the dip in her hip again.
Julia fell so deep into it, tried so hard to push out the thoughts that plagued her head. She allowed her body to give in to every quivering impulse as Marin laid on top of her, kissing every part of her, pushing against her hips.
Then she started wondering what comes next. Could they just pick the baggage up right where they left it? They put the pen down and stopped writing their story. The book was closed, sealed in a vault a million layers deep with no combination. After a year has passed, could that story just begin again as if nothing happened?
Erin.
She couldn’t do it.
As Marin kissed her again and reached behind her body to unhook her bra, her free hand strolled down Julia’s leg. It came back up, resting just lightly over the soft skin where her pelvis met her inner thigh. The latch of her bra broke free as Marin’s fingers became dangerously close to grazing over her lace panties.
Julia wanted her so badly, wanted to sink back into the way their bodies moved–wanted to kiss every inch of her, tracing each curve to make sure nothing was out of place. She wanted it all back. She shouldn’t have been stripped of it in the first place. But she was.
“Stop,” Julia muffled through staggering breaths and a face full of red hair, “please, stop.”
Marin pulled away abruptly, shifting her weight to the bed in an instant. They both breathed heavily, completely out of sync. The world came spinning into view.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, still fighting for a steady flow of air. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” Julia shook her head, pulling her hands to her face. She was too embarrassed, too, over her head. “I just can’t do this.”
