The spy (13)

First Guy holds my shaking body tightly against his solid chest, offering me the comfort and grounding I need. The climax was so intense that I’m still shaking minutes later. He brushes my hair off my sweaty skin, tucking it behind my neck. It is so hot. I feel like someone boiled my blood or turned the room into a furnace. Either way, my breathing sounds like I just ran a marathon.

“You good?” he whispers, rubbing his thumb against my cheek gently.

I give the gentlest of nods, because I can’t form words yet, and tilt my head slightly to look at him. My heart skips a beat when I see the overflowing gentleness in his eyes. For a second, I think I’m dreaming because this can’t be the guy feared by the entire world. That expression is something I have never imagined. I’m having trouble reconciling that fact.

Thirst Trap straightens my legs for me and then massages them in a soothing motion, easing my shaking. They feel like Jello, but in a good way. He works his way up until his eyes settle on my lower belly. He gives it a gentle press near my navel and then leans down to place a gentle kiss.

He kneels, towering above us, and his eyes take in the shape of me. A smile tugs at his lips, and he leans forward, propping his weight on his elbow to avoid crushing me. He goes silent for a second with his eyes glued to me. “You are really beautiful, you know that?”

 I don’t answer that, but a smile still sneaks up on my face. Compliments like these always worked with me. Judge me all you want, but I love compliments like these, especially when I’m in this state. Right now, I feel like I just crawled out of a trainwreck. My hair is tousled, some strands sticking to my clammy skin. In all honesty, I don’t feel very pretty right now, so such compliments help me get comfortable during such moments.

He eases himself beside me and lies down face up. My breathing slowly returns to normal, and a comfortable silence settles in. My body sinks into the comfort of the mattress, relishing the safety on both sides. My eyes start to feel heavy as sleep begs to take me.

But I can’t sleep yet. Questions I don’t have answers to make a grand entrance in my head. The moment may have been passionate a moment ago, but what happens now? What will my life be like outside the confines of this room? Will I even be allowed to leave this room, or am I a prisoner in a way? Did I make the right choice? Am I really better off staying with them, or should I find a way to leave this place?

“Are you okay?” Thirst Trap nudges my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. Their concerned gazes are glued to me, and I might have zoned out longer than I thought.

“Yes,” I lie.

“No,” he says firmly. “I can spot a lie faster than you can blink.”

“Okay, you got me.” Heat rushes to my face at his comment. I take a deep breath and finally ask, “So what now?”

“What do you mean?” He asks, his hand stilling for a second before resting on my belly.

“Us,” I start, unsure how to raise my concerns in the least threatening way, “what happens to me after this?” We are not the best of friends yet, and trust isn’t in the picture right now. Yes, I can fuck them with no problem because they respect my limits, but what about other aspects of life? Are they people I can lay down my life for? “What happens when the novelty wears out?”

The silence that follows brings me to the brink of tears. No one moves, not even the gentle rise and fall of their chests against my skin. They didn’t think this through, right? Could it be that they still plan to dispose of me after this? Do they have other ulterior motives? Were they using me for their pleasure? When did I fall that low? 

This train of thought hits my chest so hard that I can barely breathe. It hurt more than I expected. I don’t even know what I expected, knowing I am part of something they despise. The army. Now a spy. That is a part of my identity I can’t erase. Why did I think they would treat me like a princess?

I lay still, staring at the ceiling above me. It is a plain white flat surface with nothing else to distract me from my thoughts, and for the first time, I wish these two idiots would be into fine art or something. Then I would have something to look at and keep my mind from spiraling. Tears prickle my eyes, but I keep them because the blurry sheet will fall if I blink. I don’t want them to see my weakness.

 I hear a faint rustle of the sheets, but I don’t bother looking. What for? The mattress beside me dips and shifts as I lose the warmth on my right. Thirst Trap is getting up, perhaps to leave the room or whatever. Great. I’m really an idiot for trusting them. I wait for footsteps, but I hear none. Strange. First Guy remains still beside me, and for a moment, I think he has fallen asleep. And of course, he could because what is stopping him? I just gave him a good tension reliever.

Thirst Trap clears his throat, and I brace for whatever may come out of his mouth.