He invited me to lay on him. I shimmy over. One ear against his chest and he cups my other ear under his hand. What he was really offering me was warmth. He’s saying something but he doesn’t realize that he’s muffled and I can’t understand him. I don’t bother to acknowledge. No need for interruption here. His fingers slowly move along my ear with just enough pressure, just the way I like. He’s a natural. Just a muted voice and slow-moving hands. Who ever figured that such powerful-looking hands could be so gentle? A heart beats away under me and it sounds oddly loud. I’m definitely listening too hard ’cause these thumps don’t sound the same. Do they even sound like anyone else’s?
Silence is closer. They’re fitting lyrics from a song, endless, on repeat. We have been fading. We’ve made our mistakes and now we’re feeling tired and worthless. Maybe too worthless for each other. And now we’re watching the clock in our own rooms, miles apart, counting down for different things.