Should Have Been
There wasn’t much else to talk about. The decision had been made a long time ago, although neither of them knew it. 
The television was on playing re-runs of a show that she had loved for years, and under normal circumstances she would be shushing the room to watch; but today she was barely staring at the screen, her eyes full of tears that had no purpose. She leaned up and switched the main light off, she wanted to be in the comfort of the dark, the flickering screen her only focus.
The last of her house mates left for the evening - each of them at a loss on how to deal with her shifting moods, and unreasonable dreams. The realisation that she was alone sent a shiver through her; the fear that anything could happen and it would only happen to her. A shared experience with only herself and the moonlight. The moonlight that was shining in through the window that was not covered in any way. She felt exposed to the world and the paranoia that had always been with her crept through her skin making every nerve ending tense. She could feel the unseen eyes on her, and closed hers unless they could see inside her soul.
She had to shut the curtains, block out the world, stop anyone from seeing her disgrace.
Sliding onto the carpet in a fluid movement she stopped to pull down the nightdress she was wearing, as she had refused to get dressed, not seeing much point. Her dressing gown providing warmth as she crawled, keeping to the edge of the room so that her progress would remain unmonitored by anyone standing outside. Banging her head on a chair leg that shouldn’t have been there she let out a quiet curse.
"Fuck"
and then started to laugh to herself before clasping her hand over her mouth and swallowing her mirth. The window was over her head now and she sat with her back to the wall and reached up to pull the first curtain across slowly. It slid over effortlessly, and she shifted slightly to pull the other one across. This one jammed and refused to move. She would have to stand and risk giving the eyes something to report on. Holding her breath, she counted to three and stood quickly, grabbling the curtain and yanking it across to complete the barrier between her and the world.
She let out her breath quickly and listened to her heart pounding, and then noticed that she could only hear her heart. The TV had gone off and the orange world outside had turned into black.
Finding the candles in the cupboard took more time than necessary and she arranged them on the candle holders that had been arranged artfully but never filled during a distraction attempt. She felt round for the jam jar which should have held matches or a lighter and found it empty. The kitchen also came up short and she knew she would have to go out to the corner shop to get matches, or batteries for the dead torch she found in the cupboard next to the spot where he had last sat.
Her eyes started to adjust to the dark and she could see her long coat and shoes by the chair she had thrown them the last time she had left the house. How long ago was that? Four days? Five? She caught the lump in her throat as she remembered him walking out of the door promising to be be back soon… and then the realisation that he wasn’t going to fulfil it. She knew her ocat would be long enough to cover her nightdress not that she really cared what she looked like, or what anyone else thought
She put her coat on and inhaled; It still smelled like him. The had held each other so close when she went to find him only last night. When she embarrassed herself by waiting on the platform for his train to pull in, just to spend a minute with him; one minute that turned into 30 as he held her and she cried.
She wanted more. She knew it was over but she had to have just one more minute. A second. Just once.
Shoes, keys, purse, phone.
She threw open the door and stopped. He was there. By the gate. He couldn’t have been. This was ridiculous. But there he was. The sound her phone made as it hit the floor broke the moment and he walked forwards. She stepped back against the door as he picked up the phone and looked up.
She dared not breathe in case it stopped the hallucination. He stood up so slowly it almost seemed untrue and then closed the door behind him. The click of the lock held a confirmation but what of? He turned and handed her phone to her.
"I brought round some candles in case you needed them."
"Ah, candles I’ve got. I was on my way out to get matches."
"I wouldn’t go out there - it’s not safe…"
She put the phone down on a table behind her, not breaking eye contact. She missed and the phone clattered to the floor again. They both smiled at a forgotten memory and the world stopped.
The kiss was sudden and deep. Frantic movements full of hunger, longing, animal. Her jacket hit the floor at the same time his did. She pulled at his shirt and he threw it off as she unbuttoned his jeans. He pushed up the nightdress and broke the kiss long enough to pull it over her head. He gasped as he realised she was naked and pulled her to him, trying to make them become one person. She continued to set him free of his clothing and he stepped out of his jeans and shorts. The whirlpool of emotion that surrounded them tightened and her breasts heaved as she gasped a lungful of air. There movements slowed as he lowered her onto the sofa and entered her with a force that only passion could be behind. She arched into him bit her lip as he thrust into her, not in any way expertly or thoughtfully, but unrefined, needfully, desired. He came inside her and collapsed against her breathlessly. She held his head against her, feeling his breath on her neck and smiled.
He was saying something but she couldn’t hear. Her heart was pounding so loud it threatened to explode from her chest.
He moved above her, looking into her eyes and uttered again the request to take it upstairs.
Tomorrow would bring panic and morality; embarrassment and explanations, but right now in the dark it was the way it always should have been.
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