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Finally, Trayem came to a stop outside a nondescript door.
I tried to recall if this was the door to his cell but couldn’t. Last night was largely a blur.
The door shunted upwards and I stepped inside. Trayem followed and the unsavory guards turned on their heels, marching away.
There was nothing in his room, save for the single bed. The sheets were still rumpled from when we had emerged from it this morning.
The bed might have screamed for the amount of attention it absorbed. I was sure Trayem felt the same way.
We shared a look. It was both shy and awkward.
Why did it feel so different now compared to last night? I wondered. Perhaps it was just the frantic nature of the situation. I’d read about soldiers who formed incredibly close bonds under stress compared to the years they’d spent with their friends back home.
Was last night one of those situations?
“Have you eaten yet?” Trayem asked.
“I had breakfast earlier,” I said.
The silence returned with a vengeance.
“Would you like to have a seat?” he said.
Yes, but not on a bed we recently vacated.
“I’m okay,” I said.
Now what was I supposed to do? Stand there? Were we supposed to just look at each other?
He gained a misty look in his eye and drifted toward me.
He placed one hand on my hip, the other to my face.
He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand.
Trayem looked like he wanted to say something but the words lodged in his throat.
I wanted to speak too but with his lips so close, they turned to ice.
I felt his breath on my face. It was warm and smelled like raspberries.
Raspberries?
I sniffed and caught that fragrance again. There was no denying it.
Definitely raspberries.
As if he couldn’t be more alluring.
His eyes drilled into mine. They were all I could see.
I sank into him, unable to prevent myself from falling under his spell.
We inched closer slowly, slowly, but deliberately.
It was going to happen.
We were going to have sex and all my fears about the lack of birth control were going to come true.
