It’s 3:00 in the morning and it’s hot.
Too hot. Earth-shattering heat. The type of heat that won’t allow you to be comfortable in your own skin.
I’m in the living room, under the ceiling fan – trying to follow a single blade with my eyes, yet failing every time. She’s in the bedroom, asleep. I like her. I get up from the couch and walk towards the bedroom – the wooden floor creaks and adjusts itself under each footstep. The door is slightly open, but I give it a gentle nudge to open it further. There she is.
It’s 3:05 in the morning and she is under a single, purple sheet.
I can see the outline of her entire body, with only her fair skin and light brown hair peeking out from the top – nestled between two over-sized pillows. The moonlight is dancing around the room. She is laying on her side and I take my shirt off, unbuckle my jeans, let them quietly drop to the ground and slide into bed with her. I can tell right away that she is only wearing her panties, her purple flower boy shorts.