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The two finally rose in sync, almost without meaning to. She quietly peeled off the covers she had been hugging to herself just as he moved his arm off of her waist to rub the last vestiges of pseudo-sleep off his eyes.
Instead of getting off as she had intended, she instead turned to face him again and whispered her good morning. He just nodded.
A sudden burst of the old flame incited her to lean in to kiss him again, to show him that at one point, they had loved. Her lips caught his, and her tongue stubbornly caressed them until he ceded her entrance. She pulled him toward her, giving him the kiss that had attracted him to her all those years ago, hoping that it would reignite the memories in him too. All the precious moments they had shared, they had to count for something. They had never really fought, maybe that was the problem. They just grew distant from each other, and it was a gradual creeping thing, this change.
But she was wrong, he did still care. Maybe it was the routine they needed to break away from. He kissed her back, more amused than anything, and let slip a chuckle. The vibrations of his laugh rolled into her, the sensation causing her to wrap a leg around his and run her fingers through his hair. It was a different lovemaking, it was assurance that they weren’t dead yet.
She pulled back. “Take me on a date today.”
He extricated his legs from hers. Just gave her a look. That same brooding, contemplative look that she found so irresistibly frustrating and sexy.
Inwardly sighing, she shifted and made to get off the bed. He didn’t try to stop her, so she walked into the bathroom, started the shower, slowly began removing her clothes. The door remained open, but she knew he wouldn’t come. He didn’t.
The time for a decision had come. To fix things seemed a daunting task, but to break away? What of it? He thought back to their first date. Then he laughed as the sudden and very vivid memory of her, proclaiming sobriety while drunk, came into his head. He got out of the bed, looked at the sheets and the mattress still slightly molded to the shape of their bodies, carefully untouching, and then decided that he was going to break away from the indifference and try.
She caught her breath as he walked into the shower with her. It was the most intimacy they’d had in weeks. He shut the door behind him, rinsed his mouth with the almost-empty bottle of Listerine that Roxy had bought three months ago, and then got into the shower with her. She stepped closer to him, unsure.
He looked at her, fully water-soaked, and admired the way the water added shine to her dark brown tresses. For the first time in a long time, he bridged the gap.
As he nestled her in his arms, she finally shuddered and began to cry, tears and water from the shower soaking him now too.
He remembered again how well she fit.