#rightisms

6. things you said under the stars and in the grass.

they agree to spend one night of labor day weekend out in the woods, parked in his car, a pile of blankets and sleeping bags in the back seat / trunk area.  ( alissa told mary and george that she’d be at tina’s, studying for a final they had when they got back ; carter told isaac he’d be doing an overnight errand.  both were good lies, mostly because ––– in their own ways ––– they were partially true.  alissa fully intended on studying the way carter looked when he woke up and carter intended on running the errand of kissing alissa numb.  so it worked. )  having already gotten away with so much, the air between them felt thick and giddy.  alissa kept smiling.  grinning, actually.  they parked and walked and eventually got in the back and alissa knew she needed to look at the stars ; she supposed their reflection in carter’s eyes was the same thing.  and eventually, she does a thing both brave and stupid and almost a little bit selfish: she’s on top of him, trying hard to kiss him properly with the smile stick-stuck to her face.

her cheeks are so flushed that they burn, radiant like sun.  she can’t say it in english ––– it’s too forward and mushy ––– but between kisses, she manages:  ❛ parfois je pense à ce que vous ressemblez quand vous dormez dans mon lit. ❜  she pulls away, takes a deep breath, tries to gather her strength.  ( carter deserves a confession of love, alissa realizes, in a language he can understand. )  ❛ thank you for doing this.  for taking me out like this.  you really didn’t have to and it’s just so nice and –––– ❜  AND I’M RAMBLING.  

because i misread this, i will be answering this instead as: things you said i am.

the fifth night carter stays over by accident, she’s half asleep beneath him, his head on her shoulder, rising and falling with the tide of her breathing.  alissa lets out a hum that vibrates against his temple.  it takes ten minutes before alissa’s right-hand fingers find themselves in the golden mess of his hair, a thing made up of curls, curls that make it look like forest.  ( later on, she’ll come to regret this comparison. but for now, it feels right.  holding him feels right.  they feel right. )

she puts her head to his, and her lips find a spot near his ears.  the way the world feels at two a.m. has finally gotten to her, creeping up on her like vines along her skin, slow and steady.  ❛ you’re a better man than you know, ❜ she says, and the corners of her lips tug upward sleepily.  her eyelids feel heavy, but alissa newbury day is too drunk with sleep for it to matter.  ❛ you have a good heart.  you don’t think you do.  do you know how much i want you to think you do ? ❜  alissa hears the back of her mind whisper to her, a hushed yell: STOP. YOU’RE IN TOO DEEP.  so she sighs, rolls over into fetal position––– there’s a chance for him to take big spoon, if he wishes.  if he takes it.