Prompt words: abyss: opposite
You stepped out of the sliding door, coming to stand beside me, your shoulder bumping mine.
âWhat are you looking at?â Your voice was quiet next to my ear.
I lifted my chin in the direction of our neighborâs house.
Your hands circled the deck rail and you leaned forward, braced against the railing, your eyes tracking down. She lifted the joint to her lips, took a drag, held it for a beat before slowly exhaling. Her lips clamped the joint and her hand fell, her fingers gently tracing the tattoo on her exposed shoulder. The warm summer breeze tugged at her messy bun pulling strands of caramel colored hair loose. I caught the pungent scent of the weed mixing with the  salty sea air. I wondered if you saw the same things I was seeing. Did you see the way she curled into herself and the far away expression she wore? Did you see the sadness that wrapped around her, see the way it pressed her shoulders down with its weight?
She plucked the weed from her mouth and leaned down to drop it in pot beside her sun lounger. She leaned back, draped one arm over her head and the other across her stomach. I slid my hands over the rail next to yours and we stood, pressed shoulder to shoulder, watching her. Her long fingers caught pieces of her hair and rubbed it between her fingers. I wondered if it was soft, wondered what it would feel like between my fingers. I wondered if she would let me hold her for your kisses.Â
âYouâve been paying attention. Tell me what you learned.â
â No partner or at least not one close. A couple friends have come over a few times. I donât think she drinks. The friends did but she didnât. Smokes, clearly. Her tattoos say feminine rage so probably some trauma there. Reads a lot. Swims laps or runs every day.â
You slowly pulled your eyes from her and I turned to meet them.Â
âYouâre interested.â
I didnât hide it, didnât know if I could if I tried. It had been so long since I had been interested in anyone outside of you. And lately interest in much of anything else had been lacking. The abyss of apathy had swallowed me, yanking me into the dark and I hated the emptiness that always remained when I emerged from depression. I wanted to know more about her, wanted to know what made her smile, what made her sigh, what made her wet. I wanted to get close enough to fill my nose with her scent.Â
I tugged my lower lip with my teeth, biting it. You reached out, your finger gently pulling my lip from between my teeth before giving your attention back to her. She stood, bounced a little on her toes, her calves flexing. She had her back to us and I didnât see what she did with her hands at first. She gave a wiggle and her fingers pushed her shorts down her legs. She stepped out of them and pulled her tank over her head. My breath caught in my lungs and my hands squeezed the railing. I knew our eyes were sliding over her bare back, stroking her tattoos, appreciating the cut of her lacy underwear, the way the muscles in her legs contracted with her movements. Your pinky rubbed against mine, telling me without words you were paying attention. Her head turned and she looked up over shoulder. I heard your sharp intake of breath when her eyes pinned us, her lips curling up in the corner. Her hand lifted, tugging the tie out of her hair and as she turned away, it fell in wild waves around her shoulders. Her feet carried her to the edge of the pool and her body bent, her feet flexing, bouncing as she dove into the pool. We both leaned against the railing, watching her as she cut through the water, pushing her body into lap after lap. I wanted to know what she was swimming to escape. The smoke, the exercise. She was trying to get away from something, and I wanted to help her, wanted you to help her. Wanted her to use our bodies to chase away whatever was driving her. She finally slowed, her fingers gripping the lip of the pool. She pulled herself up, the muscles in her back working under her skin as she lifted out of the pool. Water dripped down her back, over her tattoos, down her legs to puddle at her feet.Â
Your hand slid over mine, our fingers tangling, squeezing. It was you silently telling me you saw her the same way that I did.Â
She left her clothes where she dropped them, turning right to walk down the stone path to her door. She didnât cover herself, didnât seem embarrassed as she pulled open her door. Her eyes came up again, amusement written in her expression. Her right eye snapped a wink and then she was gone, the door closing quietly behind her.Â
Your hand let go of mine to bury itself in my hair and I turned into you, leaning forward. My lips stroked over yours, and you opened, letting my tongue lick over yours. My hands pushed the edge of your tshirt up so I could run them over the skin above your waistband. Your lips kissed my chin, my neck and then you were dropping to your knees in front of me. You used your mouth and hands focus me and I used mine to make you cum. In bed with you tucked against the back of my body, I wondered what it would be like to have her against my front. I thought how different she would feel, the opposite but still just as good. I wanted to get rid of the sadness around her but I of all people understood that sometimes that wasnât possible. We might not be able to erase it but we could give her something else, something to hold onto when it got heavy. Your fingers drifting over my skin, soothed my thoughts and the heat from your body grounded me.Â
âYou want her between us.â
My lips tipped up softly. âSo do you.â
â Mhm.â Your arm curled over my stomach. âYouâll find out if itâs a possibility?â Soft words spoken against my neck.
Opposite in some ways but maybe just enough the same in others to fitâŚWandersoften