I always grew up believing that women shouldn’t initiate when it comes to any form of sexual intimacy – that the guy should take control, because he’s suppose to know what to do, and how to do it.
But when said guy is oblivious to all the signs, when you are made to feel unwanted, you start to question whether the beliefs you’ve grown up on are just old traditions.
And it makes you want to take the lead.
I hopped back in the shower, and allowed the tears on my face and the water to mix as one. I didn’t want him to come back, and I hated him for making me feel like that.
But who was I kidding? I wanted him to come back through that door so badly, it hurt.
But then something strange happened – once I got out of the shower, towel dried my hair and got dressed, I noticed that time was picking up.
It was as if for four days I was tortured with seconds that lasted minutes and minutes that lasted hours – and the universe was trying to tell me something.
I was hungry, but I no longer had an appetite – I figured he wouldn’t want to eat dinner together after what had happened, and he’d probably grab something while he was out anyway.
I laid back in bed, and turned on the television.
But I couldn’t focus – my mind kept going back to him, back to his eyes, his lips, but then also his harsh tone, his rude comments, his inability to refrain from mocking me at least twice a day.
I don’t think I ever felt as conflicted as I did then, in my entire life – frustrated too, but I’m not sure in which way.
I glance over at the digital on his nightstand – already ten o’clock.
Was I in the shower for that long?
He was going to be back any minute, and I was getting more and more nervous to face him, but I didn’t exactly know why.
Would he come back and apologise? Would he just go and crash on the couch as always, or would we talk this out? There was nothing to talk about really, aside from the fact that he had managed to really hurt me, again, but what was new?
I turn the T. V off.
I needed silence, and I needed to think.
Did I want to finally open up to him about what had happened with Sam, and why I was at that frat house? He had asked me several times the first two days I stayed over, but I would turn him down each time. I was starting to understand how he had felt when I kept pushing and pushing with my own questions, but the truth was that I couldn’t help it.
For some reason, I felt like I needed to know every single little detail about this boy’s life, and it pissed me off, because I didn’t want to feel that way.
So careful around him, so considerate.
That was suppose to be me around Sam, around my boyfriend, not someone who I simply used for my own gains.
But was I really using him anymore, if I cared so much?
No.
I couldn’t do this right now – overthink myself into a million different scenarios, and try to justify my growing affection towards him.
I needed to calm my mind down, and then I remember something I had done before, when I found myself just as conflicted.
Should I?
But before I could overanalyse this too, my hand doesn’t wait for my mind to catch up. It slides down my stomach on its own, and pulls on the drawstring of my sweatpants.
But I needed more.
I remove them completely, and throw them to the floor by the bed next to me. I mentally cursed myself for still not getting around to getting better underwear, but it’s not like Theo was going to see them anyway, right?
Wait.
Theo.
I knew what I had to do to get his attention, the only thing I knew to do before, and even though this seemed to stop working in the recent days, I had to try.
Because I couldn’t go another day fighting him by fighting with myself.
My fingers circle over the area, but the fabric remains between. I wanted him to take it off.
Then my hand dips inside, and I use my pointer and middle to swipe over the moisture there.
Which was all a mere side effect of having thought of him.
He never failed to do this.
“Oh my god,” I mutter, as I slip a finger in, trying to mimic Theo’s movements, reminiscing on the times when he used to do this for me.
I speed up a little bit, but then slow back down when I realise that I have to maintain a steady pace if I want my plan to work.
It had to work.
Suddenly, I hear the main door unlock, and I grin in satisfaction.
“Dove? You in the room? Hey, look I’m sorry -”
But he stops in his tracks, as he pushes open the door to the bedroom.
I look up at him in an attempt to be seductive, but I’m not entirely sure how this came across. I simply bit my lip and batted my eyelashes a little at him, and his jaw is practically on the floor at this point.
“W-what are you doing?”
It wasn’t often that I got Theo to fumble with his words, and I loved it on the rare occasions that it happened.
Because it meant I was doing something right, whatever it was.
“What does it look like?” I half moan, and slow down my movements further, afraid that I would finish before he got a chance to touch me.
I wanted him to take me to that place, that frankly, only he could.
“Holy shit,” he gasped, and stood frozen in the doorway, almost as if he had walked in on something he shouldn’t have.
“You’re not going to join me?” I whine, and my legs involuntarily spread further.
He couldn’t resist, and honestly, I couldn’t wait any longer.