It was 2:45am when her phone vibrated. Her body reacted instinctive.
She knew it was him before she looked at the screen, still, seeing his name sent a tremble through her.
"Come over." His voice was husky and urgent.
She could picture him leaning back, cigarette in one hand(more), a bottle of Bud in the other as he waited for her outside in the scorching summer air.
Even this late at night it was near ninety degrees, the air was thick with the promise of a coming storm, heat lightening flashing in the distance.
She didn't hesitate when he called. Just slipped on a pair of cut-off jeans over a scrap of red lace panties and a matching camisole top and tip-toed down the stairs and out the side door.
It wasn't very often they were in the same place at the same time and they both knew if he called and it was at all possible, she would come.
The five minute ride seemed like five hours.
Thunder rumbled low and her heart was thumping as she stepped barefoot through the crunchy dry grass covering his yard. The grass was as thirsty for rain as she was hungry for him.
His voice drifted out of the dark but she already knew he was there, her body could sense his and it reacted as it always did when he was near her.
She had difficulty swallowing as her mouth went dry and her body began to throb. She opened her mouth to answer him but his lips came down on hers hard, his hands pulling her into him impatient and she pressed back against him eagerly.
Shivering under his touch, she never even noticed when the skies opened up drenching them both.(less)
I feel as though I will never be warm again. Is that overly dramatic? This cold has spread across my skin, trailing fingers of icy up my arms and legs, down my back, across my scalp, and skin that's bubbled up with goosebumps. It has seeped past flesh, fat,(more) tissue, muscle. The chill sunk into my very bones. I fear they might break with each jarring movement. Each twitch of a muscle jerks my body as it attempts to be warm. Even the body knows that movement creates warmth. But my muscles are frozen. What if my body shatters?
I'm so tired. I can feel the energy leave me, just as the warmth did, and even my panic subsides as I become overly lethargic. The shivering is all that keeps me wake. It will not let me rest, so instead I watch clouds raise from my mouth with every breath. Thin, wisps of mist spread forth as I exhale. More heat gone. Next breath, a quick fog that dissipates into the air. I do not feel warm, so how can warmth leave through my breath if there is none to begin with? Perhaps it is my soul leaving, bit by bit, with each puff of air.
My shoulder hurts from all of the shivering. My body aches from the tiny, quick, involuntary movements of muscles. My muscles want me to survive, but I am ready for this torture to be over. When the shivering stops, I will sleep. Then, and only then, will this cold end. And if I am going to hell, I pray it is not to the lowest level of Dante's hell. To go from one frozen existence to another is too much. Some place warm would be nice. (less)