Unconventional Love (Rated: Mature)

She sat down on the large Goldenrod couch, beside him. He leaned in to kiss her, but she put her hand to his lips and said, "You didn't answer your phone last night or call me back. "

He leaned back some and looked her in the eyes, responding with a shrug, "I know."

She crosses her arms, pouts her lips, as rosea salmon as her tongue and flower, and she asks coyishly, "Did you know I called?"

He looked her in the eyes, nodding, "yes" and says, "I didn't want to talk."

Her face screwed up in concern for him, "Why not?"

Matter of factly, he responds, "I was too messed up." He makes the signs known for smoking, popping pills and drinking.

She does these things, too, but says, "I'm mad."

She was, too. 

She fumed.

Not once did she have anger in her voice nor he in his when he stated to her, "I should be mad that you're mad." 

He explains sweetly to her, "You know what I'm like and I will make no apologies for it. I live in a dangerous world and I have to steel my last nerve just to go outside, much more, when it is I have to deal with some of my life and you know that when I'm not going out and stuff, sometimes, I easily get carried away." 

Being more serious toned, "Last night was one of those sometimes. I told you, I'm no good for you. I'll only bring you down. Quit this life. Quit me. But I won't make up your mind for you. Set boundaries where we don't cross."

Softly and with concern, "I must have alone time and you must have yours."

She listens quietly as he pauses for a breath, then, continues, "We don't ask and we don't tell about it, unless we're prepared for something we may not like. We should only ever leave us our mysteries to help stay on our toes.", he says and smiles a sheepish grin. 

He says, "It's us versus everybody. Even versus ourselves and you can't fight any of my demons for me. Nor can I yours, for you." 

He sighed and looked down a bit and, then he had looked back in her eyes, shrugging once more, he continued, "Be mad at the addict, but you can get over fighting with my addictions, because, it's not your war."

Both were very calm, smooth and relaxed. They were always polite, social and civil to each other, to a fault, and they always would be.

They moved from the middle of the couch to opposite ends. They were looking away from one another and keeping their silence. The others in the room, his sister and her friend, froze in step, too nervous about being present, but then, the couple kept looking back over their shoulders to one another, longer and longer, going slowly from the fast stealing of glances when the other's not looking to having turned to be all the way around and both of them getting lost within each others eyes.

Finally, still mad, they said, "I love you", cutely, together, then they went and moved back to the middle and had all, but made out; to the mild disgust and relief of the others in the room.

His sisters friend told his sister, "I thought they were really arguing, but, I guess, they were only playing."

His sister says, "No. He's really mad. She's really pissed. That's how they fight. They're perfect for each other. They've made up. You got to see the whole thing. Start to finish. That's how it goes, everytime. See? They've already dropped it and, no, won't ever bring it back up and it's so cute that it kind of makes me sick and I really do want to find that for myself."

His sister's friend smiled, "Me, too."

They eventually came up for air and she had to leave to run errands and go home. As she's leaving, she says, "Call me."

He walks her to the door and says, "Maybe. Call me. I might answer."

She's goes out the door and he dials her number on the phone. She picks up.

Him: I just wanted to call you, before I forget.

Her: I'm glad you did.

Him (whispered): I want to c*m inside of you, right now.

Her: I'm wet.

Him: Want to talk?

Her: Yes.

Him: Okay.

She talks, he listens and he keeps on asking her some relevant questions.

He likes to make it all about her and not about himself and she feels like a woman.

She tells him, "My family's driving me nuts. They talk and I just want to stab them in the face and I think I must really be a monster."

He calmly says, "Wow."

She goes on, "I'm stressed."

Him: What are you gonna do?

Her: I don't know.

Him: You know what's not working for you and we should be willing, within reason, to do what is necessary to do, in order to, change it. If we don't, then it's our decision and we can always change our minds, if it's not too late. 

If it can't be changed, well, then, at least, we'll know that, whatever it is, can't be changed by us. None of our worrying will make it so. 

Manage what we can, but if it's plain unmanageable, well, then sh*t happens. F*ck it.

Her: Well said. You know, I was just talking about you the other night to one of my oldest friends.

Him: How'd that go?

Her: I told her you're the best lover I've ever had.

Him: You've got to stop lying to your friends.

Her: I tell all my friends that.

Him: Sounds like you owe a lot of apologies.

Her: Nope.

Him: You're a bad friend. You're lucky I like you.

Her: I'm kind of partial to you, too.

Him: I'm sorry your family upsets you. You can borrow mine. I'll probably stress you out, too, so, if you want to call, write or see me, I'll try to always make time to piss you off. I promise not to piss off anyone, but you. I might even make your heart smile, a little. Not too much or I'll have to pay a female to smack it back down for me.

Her: Make sure she's cute and I might let her spank you.

Him: I can't wait to get under your skin. I love. See you soon.

Her: Thank you for blessing me with a good conversation. You've made my day.

Him: My pleasure, princess. Talk to you later, punkin'.

Her: Okay.

They each hang up and have a great rest of their day, feeling aroused and unconditionally loved.