We tried to fall asleep on his floor.
He lay on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, but had his face in his wrists. John began to get restless.
I could barely open my eyes, but I turned to him, stretched out my dead arm, and fingered his beautiful locks.
“What’s the matter?” I reached over with my other hand to stroke his arm, trying to comfort him. In a fluid motion, he rolled towards me, putting his back to my chest, threatening a cuddle.
“Kev, your new boyfriend… why are you with him?” I told him that I don’t have a boyfriend, but he persisted. “Facebook says you’re with someone.”
I laughed at him.“That’s my roommate- we’re not really together. He’s not even gay.” As soon as I finished the sentence, he rolled away from me for a foot and then back again. But that time he managed to push himself up on his arms. He hovered over me, one palm on each side of my shoulders. His legs surrounded mine.
He kissed me the only way someone can kiss in a dream: defectless, skillfull, flawless. Nothing short of perfection.
