just as she had thought, he didn't. Her eyes didn't close. Not all the way. Not until he brought his hand up to her face and placed his thumb gently against her cheek. Against his hand, she felt steady though her entire body trembled.
When he pulled away, the distance between them reappeared. He had always been so good at keeping his distance from her. She was the one who kept reaching across the gap and grabbing hold of him so that he had to pull her along or let her fall. But when faced with her directly, she knew he had no choice.
In the light of the candle, his eyes looked warm. A fire inside her gut spurred her on. She pulled him close by wrapping her arms over his shoulders as his hands slid around her waist. He pushed her towards the bed, and she pulled him after her, the edge of the mattress pressing at the back of her leg. She was tired of her half lived life.
Mary sat on the bed, pushing herself back to allow him to follow. He hesitated a moment before he removed his shoes and climbed onto the bed after her. She knew he had experience. There was the little girl with the soft, brown hair that looked as if it had been plucked right off Jimmy's head. Her mother had brought her to the care center a few times before she noticed Jimmy and Mary standing under neither their tree together. She'd scowled at them and never come back. Jimmy hadn't said a word about it. Not to explain or apologize. He owed Mary nothing. She didn't ask for it either.
His jeans pressed roughly against the thin, worn fabric of her old shorts. Her hand slipped between them to unbutton his jeans, but she fumbled with it and he had to place his hand over hers, his fingers working their way between hers to get to the buttons and the zipper. With one hand, he slid her shorts down to her knees so she could kick them off, leaving them crumpled at the bottom of the bed as she rolled over and spread her legs to allow him between.
There was no thought involved. She trusted him. He didn't even have to ask. She offered herself, pulling him close, gasping when she felt him pressing against her with more than just his weight. He was pulling her towards him, holding her steady with his hands as he did it. She gave a small cry at the sharp pain from him forcing himself in and he stopped.
“No, don't stop.” Her voice was low, carried on a breath through the pain.
Jimmy kissed her again and continued, pressing into her again. The pain traveled up her abdomen. She stayed still, not even able to kiss him back, her eyes shut tightly. The muscles in her thigh shook slightly as she clamped down to keep them open. She dug her toes into the mattress as she fought to not cry. Mary wanted to be someone else. Anyone else other than the person she was. She'd go with Jimmy if he asked her. She'd give up the illusion of freedom from being completely unclaimed.
Jimmy's kisses softly touched her cheeks and the sides of her mouth. It took her a moment before she realized the pain that was left was only the remnants from earlier. Jimmy had stopped. He lay over her now kissing her even as she still ached.
“Did it-- did you--”
He shook his head and lay down next to her. “No.” Just as she was ready to ask, he wrapped his arms around her. “I didn't realize that it'd hurt you so much.”
Silence. He brought a blanket up to cover her as she stared at him. When he caught her eyes she almost burst out laughing. She had to cover her mouth and still a surprised chuckle found its way around her fingers.
“What?” He looked almost hurt.
“You go to training all day every day.” She glanced at his hands, rough and calloused; they were often bruised and cut. “You fight all the time.”
His face softened and he looked towards the ceiling before turning back to her with the full charm of the self-assured boy she'd thought would have bedded countless virgins and be used to causing them a little pain to get what he wanted.
“That's different.” He brushed strands of her hair from her face and her eyes welled up. No one did that in real life.