Unwritten

by Lauren Runow

  I can feel her start to go weak and only our embrace holds us up. We’re lost in each other and only once the loud punk music starts again, are we taken out of our trance.

  I hold her tightly, like it’s something I’ve been looking for the last ten years and now I don’t ever want to let it go. She looks into my eyes and I know they’re completely glazed over. Gradually, I let go but hold her to my side as we both enjoy the remainder of the concert.

  The ride home is more comfortable but not much is said. On the way here all I could think about was that I had to end it. Now I know that there is no way I ever could.

  Fuck. What now? What can I do? Can I really give up my life for her? What would I do? I run my fingers through my hair letting out a sigh.

  We pull up to her place and sit silently in the car. She breaks the silence by asking, “Would you like to come in?”

  I look at her, taking a deep breath in. My heart is pleading with me to go in, but my head is still telling me to run.

  She must sense my inner struggle because she offers, “I can show you some of my photos if you want.”

  Relief flows through me. That’s harmless. I’m just going to check out her photos and then leave. “I’d love to see your work.”

  I follow her up the long staircase with my heart beating faster and faster the higher we get. “I have them in my room,” she turns explaining to me as we walk into her room.

  I sit down at her desk where her camera is and pick it up. Holding it to my eye, I zoom in on her face as she’s looking down, going through her photos. I click the button and I must have startled her because she looks up at me with a hesitant smile, then holds up her hand to cover her face, “Oh please, don’t take photos of me.”

  “Why not?” I say concerned.

  Does she not know how beautiful she is? I’d take a hundred pictures of every little expression she makes and hang them all over my walls to be completely surrounded by her beauty. Ok, now I sound like a stalker.

  “I’m on the other side of the camera. I don’t like being in front of it.”

  A layer of gloom comes over her face and I see it, she really has no clue. I decide right then and there that I am going to make that my mission in life, to make sure everyday that she knows just how beautiful she is.

  I walk over to her, grab her chin, making her look at me. I tuck her hair behind her ear, “Don’t you know how beautiful you are? Look.” I look down to the camera searching for the display screen.

  Allison laughs, “You’re just as bad as my best friend’s daughter, Chasity… It’s a real film camera. Very old school, I know. Chasity didn’t understand why she couldn’t see the photo when I took a picture of her. Funny how things have changed so much, she had no idea what real film was. I like the whole process of developing the film and the photos. It really is an art.”

  A shy smile comes over her face as she picks up the photos and places them on the bed for me to view. I sit down and place the camera next to me on the pillow and start to look through the photos.

  They’re all black and white photos of normal, mundane things in the city that she has captured something beautiful about them. She sits down on the bed next to me, looking over my shoulder at the photos I’m flipping through.

  “I think there’s beauty in everything, if you look hard enough and can see it for more than what it is.”

  Grinning up at her, I reply, “I couldn’t agree more. These are wonderful, Allison.”

  I continue to flip through them slowly examining each one. A picture of a little boy running through a park toward his dad who holds his arms open waiting for him catches my attention. The joy on both the boy and dad’s face pulls at my heart making my eyes swell up. I blink quickly to push the thought away and put the photos down asking, “How did you get into photography?”

  “I’ve always loved snapping photos and showing people the life I see through my eyes. It’s a powerful feeling being able to bring out emotion in people through art. My parents, well my dad really, didn’t agree so much so they made me go to USF to get what they call a real degree. Which I never understood since they’re ok with Nichole being a model. But yet, that is all she has ever done since she was little. My mom entered her in every pageant imaginable. Thank God she never made me. You know, Nichole is actually really smart. She wanted to be a pediatrician but nobody ever pushed her to do more than modeling. Anyway, I made them a deal that if I graduated with high honors they would allow me two years to follow my dreams and if it didn’t work out I would go back to the business world. Hence, why I’m at the Academy now, though this is my last semester.”

  “So your parents, they don’t support your photography?”

  “Well, kind of, now I guess. It’s just a different world than what they’re used to. They don’t think I can support myself this way. See, my dad’s an environmental lawyer so he’s on that side of the spectrum. My mom, man, I couldn’t do what she does. My whole life she’s been a housewife. Staying home, doing nothing but talking on the phone and setting up tea times with her friends. I would go crazy. I need more of a purpose with my life. Feel like I’m doing something worthy,” she’s passionate about her statements and I love that I’m getting more of a glimpse into her world.

  “They’re crazy though, the two of them. It’s so hard to listen to what they want you to do with your life when you so strongly disagree with them on theirs. See, my dad had an affair years ago. I will never understand why my mom stayed with him like it was ok. They act like it never even happened. That’s why Nichole is so against men and relationships. Well, that and the fact that she walked in on her boyfriend and roommate having sex.”

  “Wait, what?!”

  “I know, crazy huh? It was in this apartment, this room actually. She met the girl on Craigslist and she only lived here a few months. It was his birthday and Nichole was really sick so she stayed home while they went out. At three in the morning she woke up and came out to see where they were. That’s when she heard someone get up and lock the door. She had a suspicion they were in here together so she picked the lock and caught them in the act.”

  “Whoa! What did she do?”

  Allison laughs, “Funny really. She started beating them up while he was still inside her, then left and came to my dorm and stayed until she was moved out. She called her roommate’s parents saying ‘they had to come get their whore out of her house.’”

  I laugh, “Damn!”

  “Yeah, she even had to go testify for him because the girl claimed rape. It was total B.S. though. She had told Nichole that she had a problem of getting drunk and sleeping with random guys. Yes, her boyfriend fucked up by sleeping with someone else but he didn’t deserve that. It worked out though because by then I was almost finished with school so I moved from the dorms to here. Anyway,” she waves her hands trying to change the subject, “back to my parents… I guess there was a big blow up years ago about my dad cheating. I was too young to remember it but it really made a lasting impression on Nichole. Sad really…”

  I sit quietly listening to her proclamation and taking everything she just said in.

  She pops up from the bed suddenly, “Do you mind if I change out of these clothes?”

  She doesn’t wait for my reply and starts to lift her tank top over her head revealing her red lace bra underneath. I watch with a slight smirk growing on my face and definitely in my pants. Next, she removes her pants and she’s wearing red lace thong panties to match.

  She peeks my way to see if I’m watching and catches me in an intense gaze. I don’t even try to hide it. I just stare as a small smile escapes my lips.

  Walking over to her chair, she slips on her plaid shorts and a sweatshirt with a big hole in the neck so it hangs off her shoulder leaving it exposed.

  Smirking, I pick up my phone, swiping it on and scroll through my music. I stop at Dustin Lynch Where It’s At and look at her with my grin still plastered to my face as I press play.

  The music
starts and she smiles in acknowledgment when the chorus comes on talking about a shirt hanging off her shoulder.

  I sublimely taunt, “So do I get a sweet late night kiss?”

  She walks toward me and before she can respond I grab her, bringing her down to the bed moving her underneath me. But before I kiss her, I reach back for the camera and position my finger holding the camera facing toward us. I lean down and kiss her softly, clicking the camera to photograph our moment. Then I place the camera on the bed and put my hand on her cheek, lowering my mouth to hers and kissing her again.

  And there it is, that same kiss from the concert. My mind goes blank and I’m totally lost in her. Our kiss is slow, yet so meaningful. Every breath we take in sync as we move around, learning each other, feeling each other.

  My stomach starts to knot in a way I’ve never felt and for the first time in years, I’m genuinely scared. I can’t help it. My chest is so tight I truly feel like if I take a deep breath it will explode.

  I have no choice but to stop. Pulling back to look her in the eye, remorsefully I whisper, “I can’t.”

  I sit up on the bed, pulling my knees up, resting my head on my arms that are wrapped around my knees. “God, Allison, please don’t hate me.”

  I can’t even look at her and I swing my legs around to get off the bed.

  Allison reaches for my arm, grabbing me before I can stand up, “I don’t hate you. I just hope one day you’ll let me in and tell me what’s going on.”

  I look at her, my eyes sad, “I have to go.”

  She doesn’t try to stop me or question me further. “Good night then, Charlie. Thank you for going with me tonight.”

  I walk out of her room, running down the stairs and hop into my car. I drop my head into my hands, breathing a long deep sigh before driving away and not looking back.

  My chest is tight and no matter what I do I can’t make it go away. I scream, “Fuck!” repeatedly the entire way home, hitting my steering wheel as hard as I can. I didn’t want to leave, but the fear that rushed through me was too much for me to handle. I had no choice.

  The more I think about our entire night, our kiss, her lips and her touch, the harsher my breathing gets. I’m starting to give myself a panic attack.

  Walking into my apartment, I go straight to my bed, falling face down , trying to calm my nerves. What the fuck is wrong with me? What is this girl doing to me?

  All of my attempts to calm myself fail and I know I have to speak to Allison. Panic-stricken, I pick up the phone, pressing her name, holding my breath while the phone rings. I have to know how bad I really fucked things up.

  After the third ring she answers sweetly, “You miss me already?”

  My chest loosens instantly at her euphonic tone. “I’m sorry I left. Please don’t hate me.”

  “Charlie, I told you, I don’t hate you. I wish you would open up to me and tell me what’s going on?”

  I’m silent. Like a fucking idiot. I have no idea what to say.

  “Do you want to be with me, Charlie?” she asks.

  I laugh slightly at her question, “More than you could ever know.”

  “Then what is it?”

  I sigh, “I wish… I just…” I stutter.

  “It’s ok Charlie. I’ll be here when you’re ready to tell me.”

  “Will you?”

  “As long as you’ll let me be.”

  “What else should I let you do?” I smirk, feeling much better about our relationship and the intentions of my phone call changing.

  She laughs, totally catching my drift, “Well, what do you want me to do?”

  “Oh, there are too many things to list,” my voice teasing.

  “Really now? That might mean you need to come back over.”

  “Not necessarily,” I taunt. “Are you still wearing that same sweatshirt and plaid shorts?”

  “Well, do you want me to put it on FaceTime so you can see?”

  My breath hardens as I whisper, “No, explain it to me.”

  “Well,” she pauses and I can hear her rustling around, “I’m no longer wearing my sweatshirt.”

  “Do you still have that red bra on?”

  “No, I took it off after you left.”

  I take a deep breath, imagining what her bare breasts look like and the feeling of my hands cupping each one, perfectly filling them. “And what about your shorts? Still the short plaid ones?”

  “Why yes, I still have the same ones on. What would you like for me to do with them?” she teases.

  I take another deep breath in as my cock hardens instantly. “Slide your hand under the waistband, and move your hand from hip to hip.”

  “Can I touch myself or am I lifting them just high enough to where I can’t feel it?”

  “Definitely. Feel the touch of your hand against your stomach. Imagine it’s mine. Keep it outside of your panties though.”

  “Hmmm, I like the feeling of the lace. I never feel it this way. It’s soft,” her voice is so seductive and sexy I almost lose it right there.

  “Run your hand lower, outside your panties but underneath your shorts. Tell me what you feel.”

  She moans, “It’s soft, plump, I can feel my clit getting aroused. Can I touch it?”

  “Yes, please. Run your finger across the top, barely touching it, moving up and down.”

  She laughs, “Oh, that tickles.”

  “Tease it more, applying a little more pressure.”

  “Yeah, I like that.”

  “Remove your shorts, and your panties, now.” I can hear rustling around on the phone, my cock hard as a rock as I lie on my bed with my hands behind my head, my arm holding the phone up to my head.

  “Ok, what about you? Now that I’m naked, what are you wearing?”

  “I’m fully clothed. You haven’t asked me to do anything,” I taunt.

  “Oh, so that’s how this goes?” she laughs.

  “Well yes, I want to hear you say what you want.”

  “Are you still dressed the same way you were when you left here?”

  “Yes, I am, shoes and all.”

  “Well, those need to go. Kick them off using your toes.”

  “Ok.”

  “Rub your hand over your cock. Explain to me what it feels like over your jeans.”

  I move my hand from behind my neck and start to rub outside my jeans, “Oh, man, what ever is under here is really hard. I think I need to open up to relieve some pressure.”

  She laughs, sarcastically saying, “If you think that’s what needs to be done, please do. We don’t want anything to blow.”

  I unbutton, then unzip my pants, freeing my cock and wrapping my hand around it, moving it up and down as I moan slightly imagining it’s Allison’s hand on me.

  “Now Charlie, did I give you permission to touch anything?”

  “Um, no, sorry,” I smirk to myself and I reluctantly pull my hand back to behind my head.

  “Please follow my instructions or I will have to punish you.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Sorry,” I laugh.

  “Ok, rub your hand up and down, how does that feel?”

  Thank God! I thought I was going to die if I couldn’t touch myself again. “Oh, Allison,” I take a deep breath in, rubbing my hand up and down my length.

  “Start at the bottom of your shirt and pull it up over your head and throw it on the floor.”

  I do as I’m told and wait for further instruction.

  “Now remove your pants and boxers. Wait, what do you wear? Are you a boxer brief, boxer or a tighty whitey kind of guy?”

  “Boxer briefs, black, always Calvin Klein.”

  “Nice, I like. But I think I would like them better on the floor.”

  I remove them as fast as I can and reply, “They are. My turn,” I smile a devilish smile, “Tell me, what do you like?”

  “In terms of what?”

  “Do you like to be kissed? Do you like to be touched?”

  “I like both, especially
if it comes from you.”

  Perfect answer. “Where should I kiss you first?”

  “Start at the base of my neck, moving up to my ear, biting it softly.”

  “I bet you smell good. Can I touch you while I do this?”

  “Oh, yes, please.”

  “Where?”

  “Wrap your hands around my stomach, I want to feel your strong hands wrap around my waist, it makes me feel sexy.”

  “You’re so sexy. I can only imagine how soft your skin is, rubbing my hands slowly from your hip, around your sexy waist and up your back.”

  “Oh, your touch, I can feel it. Kiss me.”

  “Gladly. Put your hands in my hair and pull, soft at first then harder. Show me how bad you want me.”

  “Charlie, God, I do want you.”

  Her breathing has become more erotic and I’m so turned on that I don’t know what to do with myself so I continue, not wanting this to stop. “I’m going to stop kissing you. I want to move down your neck and place my mouth over your right nipple. I’ve wanted to kiss you there since I saw you asleep the other night in your bed.”

  “Oh… is it a soft kiss? What are you doing to it?”

  “I want to kiss it, lick it, tug on it with my teeth. Fuck.” my voice trials off at the thought and I can’t help myself as I rub up and down my cock, wishing I never left her place.

  “I like that. Can you move to the other one?”

  “Oh baby, with pleasure. Will you keep your hands in my hair?”

  “Only if I can pull on it to show you how much I enjoy your tongue on my nipple.”

  “Please do. The harder the better.”

  “Can I put my hands anywhere else? Can I feel how big you are? I want to prepare.”

  “Prepare?” my voice soft, questioning her request.

  “Yes, I like to know what will be inside me.”

  My chest tightens. I can barely breathe at the thought of being inside her. “By all means, tell me what you think.”

  “Hmm… I can only imagine by the sight of the rest of your body, your muscular chest, your tone abs… I’m wrapping my hands around you. Oh, Charlie,” her voice is full of hunger and I almost cum in my hand.