Marie was fighting a battle in her head as Gideon sucked on her neck. Though normally subservient to logic and rationality, she was relishing her hedonistic impulses that she seldom, if ever, acted upon. She had never felt her heart so close to bursting. It was as if it was being pumped with air with each frantic pulse. Calloused male hands tenderly held a now bare back and breath dispersed hot on her neck as his mouth latched onto her. Despite this, the most powerful stimuli were inside, as heat grew in her head and blood and oxygen throbbed in her chest. It seemed he had even remembered how much she loved it when he steadied her by placing his hand on the small of her back. Yet, it was the fact that he remembered that meant anything to her, not the action itself. She had fantasized about being with him again, and everything she imagined had clasped into place. We won’t ever see each other again.
The sensible part of her, the part that had made every major life decision, from attending a boring but academic college to taking a safer job back home, was telling her that this was a grave mistake. She shouldn’t have allowed Gideon to come back to her room. She shouldn’t have pushed Gideon back onto the cushy hotel room bed. She shouldn’t have coiled her legs around his waist. She got back together with her old college lover and acted impulsively, while knowing that it would just hurt both of them again. And her real concern was for both of them. Although, she couldn’t even be sure how concerned she actually was now that they were so far past the event horizon. We’re just making the same mistake. We won’t ever see each other again.
This was unlike the sex that they had in college. Unbearable desperation had rendered the sex they experienced in college completely impossible. When Gideon kissed her neck in the past, the air filled with Marie’s gently infectious giggles, and it was joyous. Now, as Gideon tenderly cherished Marie’s neck, her moans rippled through her slightly parted lips, tipping her nose into thinner air as she melted into him, her body pooling into his.
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Gideon, for his part, had tears in his eyes. He found himself completely ensnared by the scent of vanilla perfume, the kind she used during college. Insofar as Gideon clung to Marie, he felt as if he was hooked, his body obeying her nonverbal but tangible demands. His crying was terribly unusual to him. He wasn’t sad, but it was the response that his body gave, and it was frustrating as hell. He was terrified of a tear slipping from his face and spilling onto Marie’s shoulder. He was terrified that if she knew he was crying, the night would end. He didn’t want to stop. He was perfectly content to fixate on her perfume, the softness of her skin, and the sounds from her throat.
His inability to process that data being given to him wasn’t purely by choice, however. Gideon had a very slideshow-esque understanding of how he had gotten here. They had kissed at the bar, then kissed again in the hotel’s elevator, and now he was here. He wasn’t that drunk, which would justify such a lack of information, but he was being dragged back down to Earth by the passage of time. He was beginning to think clearly again, and his first thought was one of concern. What if she came to the realization that this would actually hurt both of us? No, she must’ve figured out how much this will hurt. Why is she letting this go on? Gideon removed his lips from her neck and pulled away.
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Noticing the tears on his cheeks, Marie cupped his face and stroked the moist skin with her thumbs. They sat there and stared for a bit, not because of any contemplation or hesitation, but instead to process what they were doing. Marie wrapped her arm around the back of his head and pulled him into her chest. It’s just as good as I knew it would be. She placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head. His head nuzzled into her neck with trunks enveloped by arms; they felt artistically sculpted.
Marie didn’t find herself concerned by Gideon’s crying, and that wasn’t because she didn’t care. The reality was quite the opposite. She loved it. It was always one of her favorite things about him. She never characterized Gideon as emotional or sensitive, but she loved that she was the one who got to see it.
She knew that it would hurt. While looking at this situation through her typical utilitarian lens, she knew that they were making a very stupid decision. Most likely, they’d both go home, her to Westfield, Indiana, him to Denver, Colorado, and they’d text for a couple weeks, maybe a couple months max, and they’d be walking around with the same grayscale tint to their skin for about a year or so. And they’d go through all of that because they had to spend this night together.
Marie didn’t care about all of that though. She had one mediocre long-term relationship in the four years between their college graduation and this moment. She had reached a point in her career where things were going well, and she was progressing, but she wasn’t lucid. She was following her path, placing about as much effort into her decisions as one does into taking a step forward. This, tonight, was the first time since her post-college relationship where she had felt such rejuvenating excitement, and the first time since her relationship with Gideon where such excitement had thrummed so powerfully within her. She knew nothing of what Gideon’s romantic life had been after graduation, but she didn’t care.
As Gideon’s tears soaked into the skin of her chest, Marie had no doubt in her mind that he felt the same, that he was enjoying this as much as she was, that this was the most refreshing renaissance they could’ve asked for. His fingers dug into her back, bordering on discomfort, but Marie was content just to smell the sweat from his scalp again.