Polyamorous

"Hey I just wanted to see how you're doing and wanted to say I'm really sorry about last night. I know I crossed the line and you have a boyfriend and stuff. That was really out of character for me and I've never done that with anyone else before. I just feel really close to you, like I used to know you or something, you know?" - N




"This is N." My friend said, introducing me to her ex boyfriend. Before me stands a tall, blonde boy with hair the same shade as sand. He is surprisingly well dressed.
"Hey." He says, smiling at me.
"I'm Sophia." I say, returning the smile. I'm spending the night at my friends house and she has decided to invite over N to hang out until her mom comes home. N walks into the hallway, and I notice his arms are ripped. We all walk upstairs and he sits down in between my friend and I. We immediately start talking and completely hit it off. The amount we have in common is uncanny. The phrases we use, the places we've been, opinions, all of it.

"Alright girls." He says standing up "Who wants a drink?" He pulls out a medium sized bottle of vodka that was concealed in his jacket. My friend and I look at each other and laugh. Before we know it, we're all downstairs listening to music and getting tipsy. I'm sitting in the middle of the plushy sofa with my legs in N's lap and my friend sitting next to me, running her hands through my hair. N runs his hand across my calf and I can feel my friend watching. "Whats so wrong about having someone touch your leg?" I wonder. "Its not like we're fucking or anythinng. It's just an innocent gesture.
"So how's T?" My friend says loudly. I look at her and then back at N. The vodka is making my eyes sleepy and I'm biting my nail. I shrug. "Hes good." I say, a smile breaking out across my face. N picks up his glass and asks me if I like drinking. He takes a slow sip from the cup.
"Very much so." I reply. "But only with the right people." I finish.
He cocks his head and moves a strand of hair out of my face. He trails his fingers down to the edge of my jaw. "Who are the right people?" He says. My friend catches his hand and he looks at her. Their fingers intertwine and their hands become clasped. I have the distinct feeling that he is flirting with both of us but I'm not sure if I should care. After all, it seems pretty harmless. I tell myself that I will remind him if need be that I hardly know him and I have a boyfriend. I will behave myself. He starts asking me questions about myself and we find more things we have in common. I feel like I've known him forever. My friend leaves the room to get more drinks, and a slow song starts playing. He stands up, grabs me by the hand, and pulls me to my feet.
"May I have this dance?" He says jokingly.
"You may." I say giggling. He takes off his fedora and places it on my head. We move slowly with the beat.
"You don't mind this, do you?" He says.
"What do you mean?" I say.
"Dancing. Or anything else. I know you have a boyfriend and stuff and I wouldn't want to get you in trouble with him." He suddenly sounds young.
"Oh. I don't mind." I say, unable to explain that I don't think its a big deal, but T would and I'm tired of feeling chained to T and just want a break from everything and I want to be selfish and...
"I feel like I used to know you." He says, staring intensely into my eyes. His hand drops lower on my waist and he slowly dips me backwards. His hat falls off my head and lands on the soft carpet below. He leans down close. I can smell his breath and feel his hand tightly grasping me. His lips are no more than a few centimeters from mine. I know whats coming. Suddenly, my friend walks into the room and before I know it we're both awkwardly standing upright. She doesn't notice and hands us more vodka and coke.
I set the glass down and walk to the bathroom. I worry that while he was dancing with me, he noticed the incredible amount of fat covering me. He was probably repulsed. I stand in front of the mirror and lift my shirt.
Fat, fat, fat.
'I'm not trying to impress anyone. Hes just a new friend. I haven't done anything wrong.' I tell myself. I fix my hair and walk back out. I see them on the love seat, both of their legs stretched out and crossed. They're holding hands. I notice, but strangely don't care. For some reason I don't mind that I'm not the only one getting attention.
"Come lie on me!" He says, patting his lap. My friend begins giggling. I smile and walk over to them. He pulls me onto him, and we all shift to get comfortable. I am lying next to him, his arm around me, and my friend has her head on my stomach. She is holding his opposite hand, and I am resting my head on his shoulder. We start telling stories and getting into deep conversation. My friend doesn't say much, since she isn't exactly the brightest bulb in the pack and doesn't fare well with intellectual conversation. N lights a cigar. I begin absentmindedly playing with my friends hair. She looks up to stare at me, and is slowly petting my leg. When I finally notice, I feel strange. I feel as if the gesture is a purely sexual one and even though I have never been attracted to women I don't bother to make her stop. It didn't feel the same way as when a boy touches me. I didn't feel anything. N noticed, but didn't care. He lifted the corner of my shirt just enough to expose a sliver of skin, and ran his fingers over it. Slow, deliberate. He sighed deeply.

There's something about the way men touch.
Something about the combination of rough across soft that makes the atmosphere more electric... more tense.
N slowly leaned down and kissed me sweetly on the cheek. I looked up at him and he was smiling shyly. My friend suddenly sat up and leaned in towards him.
"Kiss me." She demanded. He grabbed her jaw and turned it roughly, kissing her on the cheek. She laid her head back down in my lap, blonde hair falling around everything like sunshine.
Feeling a little too drunk, I run my fingers along his arm. I know that N is drunk from the amount of shots he's had along with all the Vodka and Coke combinations. My friend sits up, and kisses him quickly on the mouth. He kisses her on the forehead. I lean my head on his shoulder and watch their fast displays of affection. No one is saying anything anymore. My friend lies on her stomach and props herself up on her hands to stare at me. He moves my hair away from my neck and kisses from my shoulder up to my jaw. He throws his arms around my waist and buries his face in my back, mumbling something. The garage light clicks on and we all freeze to look at the front door. We leap from the couch in record time and empty out our glasses just as my friends wasted mother comes stumbling through the door.




I know that if T finds out he'll murder me. I feel guilty because I don't regret it. I feel like a horrible person because I should've known better. I hate myself for not being able to say no to food, or the sexual advances of a few certain young men.

Why can't I just be happy that I've found an amazing person who really does love me? Why can't I be more appreciative of the fact that T is good to me, and even though we fight hes there for me?

I'm a horrible person and I overindulge in too many things. I need to start getting my shit together.






N asked for my number before he left, and I gave it to him. He texted me this morning.


"Hey I just wanted to see how you're doing and wanted to say I'm really sorry about last night. I know I crossed the line and you have a boyfriend and stuff. That was really out of character for me and I've never done that with anyone else before. I just feel really close to you, like I used to know you or something, you know?" - N












XOXO Sophia Ruins <3