We sat on a raft
in a crystal lake, the summer
sun baking us to a marshmallow
's golden brown. Trails of sweat
trickled down the planes and curves of flesh to hide in the shadow of outstretched limbs.
"Sounds like a real shitheel
." I can empathize. The fact that I want her more than Saddam
means little. Anyone who's ever been hurt can empathize.
She rolls over on her stomach
, cupping face in palms, and regards me with troubled
eyes. "He wasn't, that's the problem."
I snort. "Gal, you walked in on him nailing another woman, on YOUR BED! How much more of an indicator
do you need?"
She waves a hand, as though to dismiss a triviality. "That's not what I'm talking about." I snort again. "No, seriously, before that he was the sweetest guy I'd ever met. He visited me at work
, he got along with my parents
I let her ramble on, mentally shaking my head at the refusal of some people to face facts. The man in question
really never was a nice guy, and I wasn't the only one to try to point that out. But she's not the the type to listen when she decides what is
. Even now, watching her speak without hearing the words, I can see a determination
, a stubbornness
, and adore
Seeing her look deteriorate
from stubborn to confused, I tune back in just in time to hear "...and now all I want to do is cut his balls off."
I laugh. "So charmingly heathen
. Your skin is like a teardrop on a popsicle." My finger trails across her stomach, caressing the sweat-beaded flesh. "It glistens......" Her eyes meet mine, a look of uncertainty.
With a resigned mental sigh, not yet
, I remove my hand and casually shove her into the water
. A moment later she comes up, shivering and spluttering, her glare meeeting my grin. ".....and it's very, very cold