Tangled Up in Blue

This is my first semi-autobiographical text. It's not necessarily erotic, but it's from a very special part of my life that I think I will remember forever. Please, be gentle with it...

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"I just don't get why he's texting you, Gen, or why you're responding, for fuck's sake!" JT tosses my phone roughly onto the bed, taking a step around its corner to come closer to me.

I shut the bedside table drawer, putting away my reading glasses and turning towards him. He looks defeated, desperate. I can't blame him, really. I don't know why I texted him back, force of habit, I guess. It's not like me and Rowan 'talk' talk, but I can't exactly say no to him either.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, dragging my hands over my face while I think.

"I sent one text back. You make it sound like I sent him nudes or something." I'm deflecting. I honestly think JT would rather it just be nudes than the heartfelt messages Rowan and I swapped.

"What you did send is almost fucking worse, if I'm honest." Called it.

"It doesn't actually matter, JT. I don't know why I responded and I'm not going to again. Rowan's not even a fucking option, so it doesn't matter." I desperately want to drop the subject. I hate thinking about Ro and the hold he has over me.

"Don't say his fucking name to me. Him not being an option isn't the point. You shouldn't have texted him back, you shouldn't have even had his number saved to begin with, Genevieve." JT runs his hand roughly through his hair, probably annoyed that I sounded more sad than angry during his spew, but his use of my full name lets me know that damage control is my only option.

"You're right. I shouldn't have and I won't again. I'm deleting his number and the conversation right now." I say as I grab my phone to do so. I reread Rowan's last sentence before I lose the message forever, my thumb shaking while I trash the conversation. I toss my phone back onto the bed.

"There, done." I open my arms to JT and he walks into them, standing between my legs while I press my cheek into his torso. "When I say he's not an option, it's not just because he's in a different state, ok? Me and him don't work, we never did. I need you; we make sense." I turn my head to look up at him, partly meaning what I say, but more hoping it will soothe him into moving on from the issue.

He sighs and looks down at me, stroking the back of my head lightly. "I know we do, puff. I just want you to see that, too." He runs his thumb over the chain of the necklace around my neck.

I smile at his nickname: puff. I'm not sure where he picked it up, but I've always found it sweet.

"I do see that; you know I do. Let's just drop it, ok? Go to bed?" I give his body a squeeze earning an exaggerated grunt from JT, causing us both to laugh.

We lay down to go to bed, the glow of the hall light seeping under the door. JT lays with his back to me as I rub lazy circles on his skin. The dim lighting makes him look almost blue, his slight shoulders just barely making a shadow.

I suddenly get a dizzying spell of deja vu, recalling a different pair of shoulders bathed in moonlight reflecting off the bay.

It's technically a lagoo-o-on, Veev.

I hear Rowan's voice correcting me, I remember his smug smile afterwards, laughing at his own silly pronunciation of the word. I drift back to his shoulders, broad and tan, a spattering of freckles from years of sun exposure running across their expanse. He would completely block the light with his body, leaving me eclipsed behind him. Rowan would never let me sleep on the side of the bed closest to the sliding glass door, saying that if someone broke in, he would want the intruder to get to him first.

I try to shake the memories from my mind, rolling over in the bed to look out our first-floor window. There was a couple on the sidewalk, they've been arguing for almost half an hour now, seemingly oblivious to the flurry of snow starting to fall around them. The woman isn't wearing a coat, just what appears to be the pajamas she had on when the man came to speak to her. After a moment, the man strips off his outer coat, helping the woman put her arms through the sleeves while continuing to fight. She fumbles for the zipper, but her freezing fingers won't let her get ahold of it, so he pulls her toward him and zips the jacket up to her chin, pulling her hair out of the collar afterwards.

I feel a tear fall to my cheek and run down my face. I didn't even notice I was crying. I think of when Ro met me in a bar in Atlanta. We both got drunk and argued on his friend's couch until like 4AM. He told me I scared the shit out of him, that he couldn't have me because he couldn't stand to lose me. Pretty fucking ironic considering he didn't have me and he lost me anyways.

I think back to his text, to his seven sentences that are now gone from my phone but branded into my mind. I think about the address he sent me, how he asked me to meet him there on the 5th. I think about when I stayed at his house in Fort Lauderdale for the first time after I fought with my girlfriends on a bachelorette trip; how he looked at me the next morning, how he washed my hair for me.

I'm making myself miserable, I know that, but I can't stop. I get up from the bed and shove my feet in some shoes, moving quietly down the stairs. I wrap myself in a blanket before ripping the front door open and stepping outside. The chill burns my lungs as I suck in the fresh air, almost suffocating on it. The evidence of the tear on my face freezing and making the skin tight, reminding me of its existence and its purpose.

I sit down on the stoop and lay back, closing my eyes, hoping this moment of lunacy will pass. My breathing starts to slow and I feel myself relax further into the blanket, a dusting of snow starting to stick to me as my surface grows numb. I don't make any moves to get up as I feel myself drifting into a light sleep...

"Do you even want me here? Why am I here, Rowan?" I'm standing in front of him still in my wet bathing suit from my failed attempt to get him to night swim with me. Tears are threatening to fall, my voice is strained.

He rests his elbows on his knees and drops his head into his hands. I watch as he pulls on his blonde hair, the strands recoiling into their curls when he pulls away.

"You're here because I wanted you to come, I'm just being an asshole right now." He says to the floor, and I'm thankful he doesn't make me look into those eyes. "I'm sorry, Veev."

That stupid fucking nickname. Fuck him for using that nickname right now.

"No shit you're being a fucking asshole! Do you want me to leave? Because at this point, I feel like I should just go." I'm yelling now, why am I always fucking yelling?

He's been gone all day at work and I just wanted him to swim with me when he got home. Swim with me, hold me, listen to music, and he made it sound like a chore. 'Not now, babe, I'm tired. Just swim by yourself and I'll watch' he said while he pulled out his phone. He sat on the edge of his backyard pool while I floated around. I watched him laugh at something on his phone, texting back and forth with who I assumed was his old fraternity group message he was always fucking around on.

After a while, I just got out and walked away, not bothering to dry off as I dripped up the stairs. I hear him coming after me trying to give me a towel: "What the fuck is wrong with you, you're getting my whole house wet!" he shouts after me, throwing the towel so it lands over my shoulder.

Now we're here, him sitting on the couch looking miserable, and me yelling.. again.

"No, baby, don't go, ok? I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm being this way. I'm just stressed, and I'm pissed that I have to work all day and leave you by yourself." Now he's looking up at me, his blue eyes only half visible under his lashes, "I just feel like I'm wasting your time or something, I don't know."

"This--us fighting-- is wasting my time, Ro. Why do you always have to be this way towards me? You're making me feel insane!" I pick my arms up and let them drop back down to my sides. Feeling him push me away when we're apart is one thing, but seeing it happen in real time makes me sick to my stomach.

He leans back off his knees. "Yeah, I can fucking tell." He gives me this incredulous look, gauging me up and down.

I feel like I shrink 6 inches. The tension in my shoulders melts away as they sag, trying to fold myself down to the size I feel. I watch his face change as he sees me give up.

"Great, thanks." I let out lowly as I turn to walk towards the bathroom. He doesn't comment afterwards, he knows that was out of bounds.

I slink to the bathroom off the kitchen. I don't even bother turning on the light before stepping into the shower. I let the cold water run over me as the spray heats up, my skin practically steaming after getting so worked up. I sense him enter the bathroom to try to speak to me, but I just turn up the music on my phone.

I think back to our first night here. I was standing at the corner of the carport, watching Rowan clean the boat. It was this huge deep sea fishing boat that he'd been working on for days. I took another sip of the prosecco I was drinking, pulling it straight from the bottle; Ro played oldies on a speaker somewhere I couldn't see. I cleaned the house that day and made dinner before Rowan got back from work. We ate together and drank wine before coming back outside. He wanted to do some more buffing on the boat while the hot tub heated up.

For a moment I imagined that this is what our life would look like if we got married. I thought about what kind of ring he would get me, where he would want to go for our honeymoon. I imagined him teaching blue eyed babies with curly blonde hair how to fish. I imagined what names he would like, knowing at least one boy would have the same first name he shared with his father and grandfather. I thought about what he would be like with a girl and if he would be as remarkably gentle with her as he was with me.

I hear him step into the shower behind me, even though I know he can't stand how hot the water is.

"I don't know why I said that." He mumbles from behind, his voice echoing off the glass.

"You know how I feel about that stuff and you literally just threw it back in my face." I say to the tiles in front of me, begging the water to hide my tears.

"I'm sorry," he says, he's always fucking sorry, "you're not crazy."

I turn to face him now. He's naked and shivering out of the hot water. I hate myself for how attractive I find him, for how I can never stay mad or stand my ground. My tears betray me. He wipes one off my cheek; despite the water droplets from the shower, he still manages to find the ones I made.

"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean that." He cups my face, the rough and weathered hand covering my entire cheek. "I'm so sorry..." he says again.

Rowan steps forward and pulls me into his chest. His skin is icy against mine, emphasizing our polarity, both literally and figuratively. He holds my head to him as I finally wrap my arms around his wide torso. I press my cheek against his body, the chain hanging just below his collarbone certain to make an impression in my skin. He pulls my hair over my shoulder and starts to stroke my back, untying my bathing suit string to give himself full access.

I move my arms to wrap around his neck, playing with his still dry hair the way I know he likes. I pull away from his chest to fully remove my bathing suit, wanting to feel him skin to skin. He captures my face with both his hands once all the triangles and ties are removed. Despite my new nakedness he only searches my face. He whispers 'I'm sorry' once more before capturing my lips.

Just a peck before pulling back, obviously testing the waters, seeing if I'll give into him like I always do. I let my neck go slack so he's holding up my head, my eyes slip closed. I don't know how he does it, how he always makes me believe him. I want to think it's because I love him, but I know better. I love releasing the control. I love being able to feel small, cared for, scooped up and stroked--a tiny, fairy princess, as Rowan says. I don't have this luxury anywhere else. In all other facets of my life, I fight tooth and nail to be bigger. At school, at work, at swimming practice, with my family, my head is always on a swivel. With Rowan... I can breathe.

Seeing me concede, he kisses me again. Just as gentle, just backed with more urgency this time. He clasps his hands over both my hip bones, squeezing tightly to pull me with him as he backs up. Ro finds the shower bench and sits as I stand between his legs. He litters kisses over my torso, whispering about how beautiful I am and how sorry he is between contact. He wraps his arms around me, right at my lower back. He kisses the middle of my stomach and looks up at me, resting his chin on the ghost of his last kiss. His eyes take me out -- like they always do- shining under his wet lashes.

I think back to when I first revealed to him how much power he had over me. It was 3 months after I left his house in Fort Lauderdale. As I drove back to Charlotte after our first week together, the memories of the days previous started to glaze over, a hazy iridescence falling over them, like remembering a dream right as you're about to lose it. The feelings lingered in my body longer than the thoughts, I swore I was completely in love with him.

The distance started to take a toll quickly. We decided we weren't going to try to date, or do anything crazy, I guess just a type of 'see ya when I see ya' agreement. After a couple of months apart, he almost didn't feel real. The only thing I couldn't forget were those eyes. Blue and innocent and big and loving me, even if he didn't. I told him over text, about how it made me feel when he looked at me. He wanted to talk on the phone, but I knew I would just cry. I had never in my entire life had anyone look at me like that. I'd never felt so thoroughly and suffocatingly wanted by anyone. He bore into me then, burrowed that look straight to the marrow.

After I responded to his most recent text, I went to the bathroom and threw up. I couldn't even bear to read the words I sent him, so I deleted them on my side. I saw no way out, no way of gaining the upper hand again after this. I had completely lost control of the situation, utterly consumed in blue, blue blue...

"... Gen, you're starting to turn blue! What the fuck are you doing out here?" I feel myself being pulled up from the ground. I try to open my eyes, but they feel frosted shut, the tears I didn't know I was crying now crystalized. I reach out for JT, pulling him down into the snow with me. His body covered mine, my skin feeling like it was going to crack. I choke out a sob into JT's shoulder.

"That's enough, Gen. I know, I know. Let's just go to bed, like you said, right? I don't care anymore. We can just pretend this never happened if we go to bed." He pulls back from me, swiping a hand over the snowflakes sitting in my hair. "I just want to forget it. It's not worth it. Let's go." We pull each other to our feet. I wobble inside, unaware until that moment just how cold I had gotten.

JT changed us into dry clothes, wrapping us up in the blankets of our bed. Go to bed... forget it. My body thawed, but my mind was stuck on how nothing felt as warm as those days in Florida or a familiar heartbeat against my bare back.