Re: Si's trailer: Amy M/Si M
[She'd forgotten the timer. She really, really, really had. She was sitting there, and the entire universe was encompassed, her entire universe, by the feel of his thigh beneath her leg, by the firm non-give of his knee against her bare toes. He sighed, and it sounded to her like cacophony, loud and immediately drawing attention and she looked over at him and then down. Down, down, to where he was holding her thigh still in, yes, protective overalls, and she watched as he adjusted his pants. She probably shouldn't have watched, and it wasn't right, but she was so bad at doing the right thing. That wasn't even something born of circuitry and synthetics. She was just how she'd always been. Or, no, no, she was as she'd been since the house. Maybe before she'd been different, and maybe he'd been, but she'd been told so many times growing up that she was wrong, different, not like everyone else, and here they were. His fingers against her foot was like sparks, a sparkler, Fourth of July and on the beach, before he started using, before she'd gone off an made terrible decisions, and the salt on her skin and his laughter in her ear.
She didn't expect him to get it. It was foreign, not normal, nothing anyone else dealt with, and it was okay. She shook her head in response to his question, and maybe she was formulating words or explanations or something, something as she rubbed her cheek against his fingers.] I like to imagine things differently. [The admission came instead of talk of freedom, because neither of them could actually do anything to make her free, and she liked to lie to herself, but she knew he was probably right about maybe not noticing anything, even if he'd been there.] It's okay. I think I would've married him anyway. [Which probably wasn't true, but she didn't see the point in giving him guilt in the past. And his mouth opened, and her gaze lifted to his lips, and then came the buzzing.
Buzz, buzz, and the phone was tossed onto the chair, and she stared a moment, exhaled, stood. She leaned over him, brown cascading against his cheek and carrying lavender and vanilla, and she kissed his cheek, just at the corner of his mouth, too, too, too close, too lingering, and then she drew back.] Five minutes. [As if they'd accomplished something, and she knew she had. She didn't bother telling him she had a client coming, that she had to go. It was true, and she knew he knew, and she sighed and looked at him a moment longer, and then she left the bus and the tension and the watch he adjusted his pants.]