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They stop, in between catching their breaths and the sneaky sunlight coming from between the curtains of her house, Sucrose says, “I don’t want to have sex”. In the way you say I don’t like elevators, while climbing the stairs to the 7th floor of your building, in the way it’s meant to be a weight on your chest, and close a door everyone always thinks it’s open, in the way people back away with an oh, I do. In the way she’s alone because she figured she’s unwanted, and not easy at all.
She feels like glass moves underneath her skin as she waits. She waits and eternity shakes with an apocalypse on the tip of its tongue, threatening to speak it into Sucrose’s existence.
Rosaria looks back at her, lipstick smeared on her lips. There’s that playful smile she always wears around everyone like the world is her secret; like she’s waiting for the right time to yell it outside the void. Rosaria props herself on an elbow, looking down at Sucrose, the sunlight gets tangled with her hair, Sucrose is mesmerized, she’d never seen it so long and rarely gets the pleasure to play with it. Purple and red and a mirror to everything and nothing at all.
“I do”, Rosaria says, leaning closer to Sucrose. There’s a moment between right here and right there, in which Sucrose fears and her heart skips a beat, and she thinks-oh, she does. But it is no longer that the time between the present and the past. Rosaria’s smile is intoxicating. Sucrose’s heart skips another beat for an entirely different reason when Rosaria’s hand caresses her cheek, tucks her hair behind her ear, and leans so closely that her lips brush Sucrose’s when she speaks.
Both of their eyes are close, Sucrose tunes in with the sound of Rosaria’s breathing, the feeling of her chest touching Rosaria’s with each inhale and exhale, the softness of the mattress, the warmth of Rosaria’s fingers resting on her cheeks, “but I want you more than whatever sex could be”.
The sunlight, Sucrose notices, eyes close and lips pressed onto her lover’s, a smile on her lips as she kisses apocalypse away and welcomes forever, is warm.
She thinks about it in the way it is not the sunlight she refers to, in the way it weighs on your chest and opens a million doors behind and beyond.