F A N F I C T I O N > M I S C . F A N D O M S
Friction, Friction, Friction by Amberina
It started with a simple touch. So simple, it felt odd that it could have possibly changed my life in such a way. Just a touch, his hand against mine...
Or maybe it really started when I broke up with Craig for the tenth time. If you would have asked me then, I would have sworn up and down that I loved Craig, even while breaking his heart. It took a while for me to realize that I didn't. I was certainly fond of him, but love wasn't something I experienced until much later.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. It started with me breaking up with Craig, and then a touch. Perhaps there were beers in between - there always were - but neither of us were drunk. Neither had anything stopping us from stopping.
Will. He loved me, that I knew. That I still know, somewhere inside. Maybe I loved him; I'm not too clear on that. I did love his hand, though, brushing against mine.
You know that feeling where your skin feels electrified, every nerve ending acutely aware of the tiniest bit of friction? That's the feeling I got when he touched my hand. I looked up at him and his eyes were big, hopeful maybe.
He kissed me then and it felt like... It felt like I always thought kisses should feel when I was a little girl. They never did, though. Not until that night.
Not that it was romantic. It was anything but. It was skin against skin, pushing and pulling and nothing but friction, friction, friction. Striving to lose myself in the moment, in his arms. Striving to get off.
Will and I didn't talk about it again until I found out I was pregnant. And that's when things really changed.