The hotel room is quiet and dark. I roll over, wondering if it was a dream. That perhaps I just imagined your lips pressed hard on mine. Sweet, warm kisses that grew insistent. Your hands on my knees, pressing them wide. Hot breath on the insides of my thighs. My palms pressed against your face, heels dug into the mattress.
I swallow remembering how I called your name over and over again, my throat scratchy from yelling. I sit up in bed. I remember the words you whispered:
"Honey, I left a glass of water for you on the nightstand. You'll be thirsty when you wake up."
I reach with my fingers in the dark and touch the cool, full glass.
Submitted by: Heather, AKA Epiphany Alone
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