Being alone was something Maya has always known. Coming from a family too stubborn too admit their own reluctance, Maya has learned to get by on her own. In truth, she welcomes it, deeming it solitude rather than loneliness. Though, most days, the lines do blur, which is why she often finds herself in the bed of another, skin presses to skin. It was easier that way, to remain a presence that comes and goes. Maya didn’t want to be consumed despite her knack for getting in too deep.
As she listens to Astrid speak beside her, she carefully reaches one hand out to retrieve the joint being passed her way. Maya takes a generous puff, allowing the smoke to fill her lungs before releasing it back into the air where it swirls and then dissipates. “You’ll learn soon enough that living alone isn’t so bad. You get to walk around naked whenever you want and masturbate like, everywhere. It’s kinda amazing.” Maya chuckles, staring up at the ceilng, “I shared a room a lot with my siblings growing up because we were like, you know, broke. I hated that I couldn’t masturbate. Whenever I start to feel lonely I remind myself that, yes, I can masturbate in the middle of the day just ‘cause and nobody can stop me. That’s magical to me.” Not the best advice but she tries. And, well, she’s high.
At the sly mention of Ardin, Maya can’t help but roll her eyes, a snort sounding from her. “Maybe I will,” She says, which Astrid will know is rare for Maya. She doesn’t open up to people she didn’t like. So, it’s obvious that she might actually like Ardin Hirsch. “I think he’d understand. He accepts that I’m a goblin piece of shit and seems to enjoy my company. I…like him.” The admission comes hesitantly, a shrug following her words.
“I can’t argue with that,” Maya says, a coarse laugh sounding from her now. “He’s nice, though. Different. Before we fuck he folds my bra and my shirt so it doesn’t get wrinkled. At first I was like, oh my God, this guy’s a fucking serial killer but, no, he’s just…nice. Not a douchebag. I think I’m just used to being treated like shit.”
“I think Ted Bundy’s neighbors said the same about him,” Astrid muses, folding her arms across her bare, flat chest. “He’s so gentle. He could never hurt anyone.” She raises her eyebrow at the other woman as she takes another hit. And even though she’s tried to keep her voice serious, the cheshire grin through which she speaks gives her away completely.
There’s something about the way the hardwood feels under her bare skin, cool and solid, that makes Astrid think she’ll leave her living room just like this. Bare of real furniture. Just an old coffee table she found at a flea market and a box in the middle where she hides her weed and her pipe and her papers. She’ll perch her bare ass on the floor in front of her laptop and finish her book just like this.
It would only work, she thinks, if she can keep Maya here. With her infectious giggle, and the self conscious way she stops herself before she loses control. Astrid takes the hand that touches her cheek, pulling the fingertips to her lips and placing a gentle kiss there. Just before her teeth nip at Maya’s middle finger. The gesture makes Astrid snort, and a fit of giggles takes hold of her.
“When are you going to break the news to him?” she laughs, “Someday you’re going to have to tell him that you wanna be fucked like a whore. You deserve that kinda satisfaction.”