We shared a look. It was both shy and awkward.
Why did it feel so different now compared to last night? I wondered. Perhaps it was just the frantic nature of the situation. I’d read about soldiers who formed incredibly close bonds under stress compared to the years they’d spent with their friends back home.
Was last night one of those situations?
“Have you eaten yet?” Trayem asked.
“I had breakfast earlier,” I said.
The silence returned with a vengeance.
“Would you like to have a seat?” he said.
Yes, but not on a bed we recently vacated.
“I’m okay,” I said.
Now what was I supposed to do? Stand there? Were we supposed to just look at each other?
He gained a misty look in his eye and drifted toward me.
He placed one hand on my hip, the other to my face.
He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand.
Trayem looked like he wanted to say something but the words lodged in his throat.
I wanted to speak too but with his lips so close, they turned to ice.
I felt his breath on my face. It was warm and smelled like raspberries.
Raspberries?
I sniffed and caught that fragrance again. There was no denying it.
Definitely raspberries.
As if he couldn’t be more alluring.
His eyes drilled into mine. They were all I could see.
I sank into him, unable to prevent myself from falling under his spell.
We inched closer slowly, slowly, but deliberately.
It was going to happen.
We were going to have sex and all my fears about the lack of birth control were going to come true.
I couldn’t let this happen.
I just couldn’t.
He leaned forward and gently slid his bottom lip over mine. His breath massaged my nose and cheek.
I shut my eyes, ecstatic with the sensation. It was almost painful to have something I wanted so close.
The anticipation only heightened the sensation.
“I thought we weren’t going to see each other again?” I said.
“Is that what you want?” he said, not taking his lips from mine.
You don’t know what I want.
Or, maybe, you do.
“No,” I said softly.
“So, tell me what you do want.”
My mouth turned dry and I could hardly breathe.
I want you.
I couldn’t say it. But it was plainly written on my face if he were to open his eyes and look.
I wanted him more than I could express.
Words were too poor a substitute.
They could never plumb the depths required to explain that feeling, that desire, that need.
That obsession.
“I want…” I said.
“Yes?”
“I want…”
Not to get pregnant!
The voice of logic and reason hit me like a bucket of ice water.
My eyes bolted open and I shoved him back.
The door hissed open and he fell out.
He lay on the floor in the hallway.
The prisoners working on where a barricade had been set up the night before looked over at us.
Seeing me standing over Trayem, one blew a wolf whistle.
“Take it easy on him!” he yelled. “He’s just a boy!”
The prisoners joined in, smacking each other on the back and roaring with laughter.
The guards barked an order at them to continue working but they didn’t stop chuckling as they bent back over their tools to restore the wall.
I reached down a hand to help Trayem up.
He didn’t take it and rose up by himself.
“Sorry about that,” I said.
He dusted himself off and shook his head.
“I can’t say that’s ever happened before,” he said with a grin. “How about we try that again?”
We entered his room for a second time. He drew up close to me and resumed his pose with one hand on my hip, the other on my cheek.
But the magic was broken.
At least, for the time being.
“How about you take a shower first?” I said. “You’ve been fighting all day.”
“Actually, it didn’t take more than ten minutes.”
“Still, wouldn’t you feel better after having a wash?”
He took the hint.
He didn’t smell, save for that delicious raspberry aroma I couldn’t explain. Even his boots were hardly dusty from the fighting pit floor.
“I suppose I could do with a little scrub,” he said.
He moved to his wardrobe and collected some fresh clothes.
“Help yourself to anything you want to change into,” he said.
He pecked me on the cheek as he left the cell and headed for the communal showers.
The door hissed shut and I leaned back, pressing my back against the wall.
I had dodged a bullet.
Narrowly.
There was a lot more time to negotiate before the night was over.
Just how was I going to keep him—and myself—at bay?
By the time Trayem returned to his room, his fringe was wet and his clothes were still damp from rushing to dry himself off.
I was tucked away in his bed, the blankets drawn up to my chin, prepared, and ready with a plan.
He smiled at me as he crossed the room to his wardrobe and deposited his dirty clothes in a box separate.
“Comfortable?” he said.
“Very.”
“I was going to ask if you wanted to use the showers. But I guess it’s a little… uncomfortable considering there aren’t any female showers and you’d have to share with the other male prisoners.”
I chuckled. Then I reached over and tapped the other side of the bed for him to join me.
Although the bed might have only just been big enough for the likes of him and the other prisoners, it swamped me. It wasn’t a king-size, or even queen size, but roughly one and a half times the size of a regular single bed back home.
More than big enough for me but nowhere near big enough for him. With the two of us sharing the one bed, it was even worse.
Usually, it resulted in me being crushed by an oversized muscular leg or an arm wrapped around me like a teddy bear. I’d long since learned the most comfortable position to sleep with these giants was on top with my head balanced on their chest.
Trayem took a seat where I patted as I rose into a sitting position.
“I have a favor to ask you,” I said.
“What is it?”
“After last night, I still feel a little tired.”
I gave him a shy smile.
He
