As she kissed him in his motel room, he was stricken with guilt. Of all the things he’d done, he couldn’t do this. And when he knocked on her door and she answered, he saw the pain on her face just of seeing him again- seeing him completely fallen apart. All he could get out was ‘I don’t know what to say.’ She let him in anyways. And now she shuddered under him, desperately wanting the pace faster, but let him do what he pleased. She knew he needed this. He pushed into her deep, lips sliding along her neck. He wished he could tell her everything he was sorry for: sorry for not explaining to her what happened in that desert, how he wasn’t able to save his friends, how he felt guilty for being the one to make it home, how he felt guilty for feeling anything close to happiness… And now he felt guilty for putting her through it all… for walking away when all she did was try to help him. He didn’t deserve her love but it wouldn’t stop him from trying to apologize. His hands trailed. My day hadn’t been a total bust, as I’d managed to find a dress, (which I was unsure about) but I couldn’t find shoes to match anywhere. I’d already checked my usual shops, but hadn’t been able to find anything. I decided that maybe a caffeine fix would help. I wandered over to the small coffee shop. I was lost in thought in the queue, trying to decide which oversized and overpriced cappuccino to order, when a voice behind me that I didn’t recognise broke my thoughts. “Jayne?” I turned to see who had said my name. It took a second for my mind to register who was stood in front of me. But when I did, my heart skipped a beat. The shock and recognition must have been clear as day on my face. “Neil!” I unconsciously adjusted my hair and cursed that I hadn’t made more effort with my appearance that day. He smiled and my cheeks flushed red. He was taller than I’d expected and even more attractive than his photos on his profile. (Which I’d looked through plenty of times.) “You needed a.
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