LOGINI woke up thinking about his thumb moving against my jaw. Not even the kiss that hadn't happened. Not the almost. Just his thumb. That one small, deliberate movement before he stepped back and said goodnight like it cost him nothing.I lay in bed for five minutes, being annoyed about that, before I got up. Friday. The house was quiet in the particular way it was quiet when he hadn't come downstairs yet.I was dressed up already, fine, unbothered, and completely unaffected. I was affected. I'd been affected for months, and I was tired of the performance.I could hear footsteps on the stairs behind me, and it was getting closer. He'd been leaving his room at almost the same time as me for days now, like our clocks had synced in absolute perfection. My coffee was on the counter, and his laptop was already at the island, with some papers spread, and his jacket on the back of the stool. He'd been up earlier than me."Morning," he said, appearing behind me at the coffee maker."Morning. Yo
I looked, and it was actually open. I'd probably left it open when I came inside without registering that I was leaving it open."What do you want?""Lunch. Come down."It was not a question, not like he was trying to command me either. The way it stood in the middle ground between those two things that I'd stopped having the energy to argue with.I followed him downstairs.He made sandwiches, good ones, he made it so well, and even from the aroma I could already feel that the ingredients were chosen correctly, and the cooking was done exactly as it should be. The bread was right, the order of things right. He assembled them without asking what I wanted in mine and what I did not, and somehow got it exactly right anyway. Maybe it's just a normal thing since we both live in the same house.We ate at the island. I left my laptop in my room, and here, it was just us and the food and the afternoon light cutting through the window. I couldn't even stay on my laptop to make it a good distra
I woke up twice in the night. Both times the first thing I thought was: if I don't step back, I won't stop.I didn't think of his face, not the hallway, not anything surrounding the words. Just those words. They were sitting in my chest when I surfaced from sleep, like they'd been waiting there.It was a new day.I woke up before my alarm. I turned it off before it could ring and made my way to the bathroom.I stood under the shower longer than I should have, thinking about what it meant to stop acting like I was perfectly okay. I'd been pretending for so long that I was starting to convince myself it was true, even when it wasn't. Everything felt exhausting. Existing. Thinking. Even sleeping and waking up.I stayed there until the water started to lose its warmth.When I finally stepped out, I dried myself with a towel and went back to my room.I opened my wardrobe and let my eyes drift over the clothes for a moment before reaching for one of my favorite dresses. It wasn't anything s
I was sitting on my bed staring at the camera when I should have been sleeping.His t-shirt was on the floor where I'd dropped it changing into sleep clothes. The rest of the room was dark except for the bedside lamp, which I'd also turned down to just the lowest setting, and then there's the red light in the corner which was visible, but barely. The question I hadn't let myself answer was why I hadn't pulled it out yet. I looked at the red light and tried to answer that honestly.He'd installed it to watch me. That was a violation. A complete, unjustifiable invasion of the one space in this whole complicated house that was supposed to be mine alone. I was furious about it when I found it. I was genuinely furious, and some of that fury was still there, banked and real.But he'd said I needed to see you were okay.Not: I wanted to watch you. Not: I wanted something to hold over you, but I needed to see you were okay.That was still wrong. I wasn't letting him off the hook. It just was
Two days.It's been two days since I'd stood in the dark of my room looking at that red light and decided to perform. Two days since I'd screamed his name into the empty air and then cleaned up and changed his sheets and gone to sleep like it hadn't happened. Two days of mornings and meals and careful proximity and both of us not saying the thing we were both very clearly not saying.Wednesday morning I woke up thinking about the camera before I thought about anything else.I didn't think about him, the camera, or the fact that it's a violation. But I kept coming back to, what I'd been letting myself focus on, because focusing on the camera was cleaner than focusing on everything else.I got up and dressed up. When I got downstairs, he was already in the kitchen. Of course he was.Is he some kind of chef now?He's already made coffee, and my cup is already out with the right amount of cream, and I was mesmerized by the fact that he'd apparently memorized at some point without either o
The next thing I heard was his footsteps on the stairs, then he walked up and his door opened, then closed.That was it. That was our entire interaction.I sat with my fictional book and tried to process the fact that we'd progressed from last night, the fact that I saw a camera in my room, the performance, his name screamed into my empty room, to "I'll make dinner later" like nothing existed between those two points.Fine. That was fine. I could do this.I read the same page four times and retained nothing, before I finally got myself back to my senses and continued reading like I should.At six-thirty, sounds came from his room. Then he walked past me in the sitting room, and went to the kitchen. I stayed on the couch until garlic hit the air and my stomach made the decision for me.He'd actually pulled out real ingredients. A proper pan. And pasta water is already going. He moved around the kitchen with the kind of focus and e
I walked toward him slowly, and each step felt way very heavy.His eyes never left mine. They were tracking my movement across the room like a man watching what he wants to devour.I got very close and stopped at the edge of the bed, close enough to touch but not touching. Waiting for instruction.
“In the lot across the street. See you inside?” I typed back quickly.His response came back immediately: I’ll be there in 2.”I flipped down the visor mirror, checking my reflection one more time. Makeup still perfect. Hair still smooth. I reapplied my lip gloss, and took a bre
He was straddling my chest with his dick right in front of my face, hard and thick with pre-cum glistening and leaking from the tip.I could see every vein, every detail, so close I could feel the heat coming off it."Open your mouth."I obeyed immediately, parting my l
"He's nice," I said, which was true but also obviously not really an answer, but it felt like a good thing to say.Lexi made this frustrated noise and said "Nice? That's what you're going with?" "What do you want me to say?" "I don't know. That you're into him?







