Him hushing you. The stinging white noise rolling of his tongue, the burning shush. It's stuck in your head. You had all those wonderful times together.
He's your best friend, your lover, your past, future and in between. You believe that he is one, and you love him. You really do.
Just now he is sitting there in front of you, eating his hot plate of tortillas. He's beautiful. But as your eyes cycle around his face, you keep going back to that day. Him hushing you.
Your parents were there, your friend Aisha, his aunt Susan. You went red with embarrassment, you pressed the tip of your key inside your purse into your finger so deep it left a bloody mark.
It happened six months ago. He's generally a calm person. He respects you. But your brain does not acknowledge that, doesn't care.
Your brain is vicious and demented monster that chooses to cling into that one sad, embarrassing memory more than anything else that's happened in the past 6 months.
You go back home after dinner. He's overly intimate. He's touchy, rubbing the upper side of your left butt. Trying to kiss you. *You remember the hush, the sudden intensity of it.
* You reciprocate the kiss, cause you're horny and you fucking love this man. *Hussssh, the sudden surprise on your mother's face.* You're both intermingled in bed now.
He's still wearing his white undershirt, which only makes him sexier for some reason. *You don't remember what you said but you remember the hush.
So vividly, like it's happened everyday in your brain.** Which it did, in a way.* He thrusts faster and rubs his lips on your neck. *His eyes were wider.* Pushes deeper. *Hush.
* The way he looks at you is the same way he did that day. *Hush.* Moans. *Hush.* Thrusts. *Hush!*
"Stop- Stop! You and I are done."