Bound by Broken Memories #2
And that led us here, locked in this dusty room that I’m sure no one, not even the old weirdo who lives here or the ghosts that haunt, have been in for years.
“Okay,” Sasha continues. “This is only a runner-up to the car, because the car was worse, because it was freezing, and I almost lost a nipple. But, the funeral home.”
“That isn’t a runner-up to the car. That is worse than the car. It’s probably the biggest contender for this place. This is probably karma,” I say.
“No. It’s not that bad.”
“You went down on me in a coffin. Someone is now probably using that as a final resting place. There were also people grieving the loss of their brother downstairs,” I reply.
“And it all could have been avoided if we didn’t have to sneak around so much.”
“Or if you could have just left me alone. Just been happy with being my friend.”
Sasha’s back straightens, and her face hardens over my sneer. “That wouldn’t have changed the truth.”
“Which is what exactly?” I inquire.
“You already know.” Her expression softens.
“Nothing would have changed. You’d have still been gay without that first kiss outside your parents’ house that you freaked out about.
You’d have still been gay without that night in the car or the funeral home.
You can’t change who you are, Lee, and believe me, you tried it with the magic wands of many guys.
You’d still be gay without me, but you wouldn’t have been happy, and in a way, you weren’t anyway. ”
“What do you mean?” I ask, eyes fixed back on the view through the window as I discreetly wipe away a tear.
“You know that part too,” Sasha whispers.
Nodding, I agree. I was never happy because I was always pretending that I was. So many false smiles with Slayer. So many conversations with my mother about what a great guy he was, and the nodding, and how I’d do it every time she said she hoped we’d stay together forever.
Another tear falls, and that ache in my neck returns as I slump back against the window.
I need a distraction, so I keep talking around the metaphorical lump in my throat that tries hard to keep me quiet. “Go on. What’s the third place?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you later. We’re here all night,” she teases gently.
I sigh, dropping my head back until it meets the glass.
“Did that hurt?” She asks.
“No.” It probably should have.
“Well, I’m glad it didn’t. Now, get over here. I’m done arguing with you.”
“How do you manage to make that a question and a demand?” I say, taking the first steps to the bed.
Plumping myself down at her side, her fingers instantly move to my face. Her soft touch glides over my cheek, and I find myself looking away.
“It’s part of my charm,” she replies.
That charm isn’t hiding her truth, and I question it, “You don’t look happy to be here, either, Sash.”
“It’s just been a hard time.”
“At home? Is your dad okay?”
Her dad has been suffering from a long-standing illness for as long as I can remember. I can never remember the name, but it affects his lungs and mobility, and it makes him tired a lot.
“It’s not my dad. I just missed you,” Sasha replies.
“Have we not talked for a while?” God, why is everything so fuzzy? All my memories are mush.
A flash fills my head, Slayer’s mouth spitting angry words in my face. I blink, and he’s gone before I grasp on to anything he’s saying.
“It’s been a while.” Sasha smiles, her fingers still on my face, feeling over my skin, over my lips, pulling me back to her.
A tear drops from her eye, and I see goosebumps line up her tanned legs as her body protests the cold in this room. Personally, I don’t feel it.
A noise at the door—definitely a human noise—snaps my head away.
“What is their problem! Why are they so loud!” I demand.
“Lee,” a tiny whisper brings me back to Sasha. “Don’t focus on them. Focus on me.”
The words hold meaning, power, and they pull my eyes to the fullness of her pretty lips.
She never wears gloss. Never wears makeup. She’s so different from me in many ways.
“Why am I so angry?” I ask.
“It’ll pass.”
“All the hard times do, right?” That’s something Sasha always says to me.
“The good ones, too, unfortunately.” Soft lips find mine,and she kisses me, not waiting for me to question her strange statement. Her eyes flick up to mine, still open, and I take in how she looks in this moment.
The kiss deepens into something hungrier on my part as Ilet Sasha’s tongue enter my mouth. The taste of her is like a painful memory I just can’t hold on to. One I desperately want to hold on to.
She breaks away, creating a small distance between us.
“I could stay here forever.”
God, she has to mean in this moment, and not in this creepy house.
“With all the ghosts?” I question back in a small whisper, so they don’t hear me.
“All of them, if I had to.”
A smile lifts her cheeks, creating more lines around her brown eyes than I’ve noticed before.
“You look beautiful today,” I dare a compliment, trembling as I give it.
A big, breathy laugh hits me in the face, but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything other than the electricity between us.
“Kiss me,” she begs, and something about how low her voice is encourages more from me. It gives me confidence to do something I’ve never tried before.
Pushing Sasha down on the bed, I hover over her, keeping my lips close to her skin.
I’ve never been the one to lead, always the one to receive, but I don’t let that knock my confidence. There’s a gleam in Sasha’s eyes that tells me I’m doing everything right as my kisses make their way down her neck.
I grant her enough room to slip out of the hoodie that Ithink once belonged to me.
I don’t remember giving it to her, but I’m not gonna bring it up now.
By the time the pink material slumps to the floor, my eyes are back on her, watching as she slides a pair of shorts down slender legs.
I’m the one to kick those from the bed, her satin panties that were inside them going too.
Placing my mouth back on her, I enjoy the feel of her leaning into me. The late hour darkens the room as nightfall looms outside behind snow clouds, creating an ambience that no longer feels creepy. Somehow, it’s more romantic, and I’m no longer fearing what’s on the other side of the door.
The low lighting allows me to see only Sasha in the mirror angled at the bed.
Only her and her blonde hair fanned out before me as I love her from the shadows.
And then my eyes drift from the mirror, and my kisses travel lower, around the material of a black satin bra that looks so good on her, it makes my mouth dry up.
I lick my lips before putting them back on her.
Sasha gasps as my tongue slips over her breast, and I suckwith only that thin layer of material between us. My hand sinks lower, over a taut stomach. Lower, to a place between the hips that rise slightly for me. A place that’s wet and ready for me.
“You’re beautiful,” I mumble, so quiet I barely hear it.
More kisses cover her as my hand drags over her perfect pussy. Again, she rises, and this time, she lets out a soft plea for more.
My finger finds her entrance and slides inside while my mouth, warm and wanting, massages her breasts. Teeth drag over her sensitive nipples as they pebble in my mouth. And astaggered breath leaves her as my finger slides in and out, curling slightly.
I touch her in the way I’ve touched myself while thinking of her in the past, and I insert another finger.
Sasha’s back arches, pushing her pretty satin-covered breast further into my mouth.
My thumb moves to her clit, circlingin a way I think she’ll like.
Her hips start to buck, meeting the rhythm of my hand, masturbating her to the point of panting.
Her head drops back, and the mirror enables her to see herself coming for me as she clamps around me, and something that sounds vaguely like my name falls from her lips in a slurred mumble.
As she comes down, eyes still on herself in the mirror, her demeanor changes. That sad look from earlier returns to her as she sits up and touches my face.
“Will you promise to talk to me tonight. All night.” I nod and roll my eyes because I know this damn girl can never stay up past eleven, even when she tries her hardest. But I promise anyway, because she looks like she needs someone to comfort her, and I don’t know why yet, but I know it has to be me.
“I will, and when we get out of here, I’ll tell my parents everything. I want to be with you,”
As I expected, Sasha fell asleep somewhere around eleven. Her long hair fans out on the pillow. Her petite body is buried beneath the ruffles of the heavy blanket that protects her from the drafts she complained about before slumber took her.
It’s nice seeing her sleep so easily in this creepy place…me, I’m not even tired yet.
Another noise sounds beyond the door, and I’m sure my eyebrows are dipping because of it, but it’s too dark now to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the dusty old mirror that favors Sasha.
“You know what I’m going to do?” I ask, glancing back at her, aware that she can’t hear me.
Her only response is a gentle snore. It lifts a smile to my lips, because when morning comes, she’ll say that she doesn’t snore.
She’ll also ask what I drew last night and what inspired me, because she knows me to the soul as well as I know her.
She knows that I’ll open up her backpack and pull out the notebook where she documents these creepy visits.
And she knows, I’ll draw something from our time here, too, because I’ve always done it.
It’s an attempt to brighten up the morbid memories of someone else that she has to live through.
What she doesn’t know is that I have the perfect image in my head. It’s etched into my memory: the mirrored view of her reflection and all the pleasure I gave her.
After a quick dig through her bag, I pull out an unfamiliar notebook. It doesn’t look like the typical one she always uses. It isn’t full of my drawings for her.