Two halves make a whole moon

I awoke to a tight grip on my hand. It wasn’t something that happened out of the blue but instead, something I grew aware of as I drifted out of my dream and into a sleepy reality. The hold in my hand was painful, twisting it awkwardly and as I turned to see what it was before pulling it away, I remembered him.
He sat, sprawled on the floor, breathing in and out softly in sleep. His head drooped onto the bed as his hair curved on the wrinkles of the sheets. It was like looking at him from the front in a regular day in class.
Why did I not hate this man who caused me so much pain?
His arm stretched along the bedside, his hand carving his fingers into mine, meshing our skin. Was he trying to forge them together?
I tried to pull my hand free from his fist but it was useless to try such when his grip tightened. I relaxed, letting the hand loosen up and turned back to admiring this beautiful man.
His head moved, adjusting to comfort and ever so slowly, he opened his eyes, staring at me wide awake.
Ashamed I lowered mine and tried to pull my hand away, successfully removing it.
“Shhh..” He whispered nodding his head behind him.
My gaze wandered to a corner of the room that remained unlit by the crummy window and noticed my mom’s sleeping position on the small chair.
My heart went out to her then. Sadly I hadn’t expected that kind of loyalty.
I pulled my hand away, as he let it go with a yawn and flexed to relieve muscles knotted in pain. I stretched my fingers to do the same.
“How are you feeling?” He whispered softly to me.
I thought about it for a moment. “A little sore, but alright, I guess.”
He blinked slowly at me and moved to lean his back against the bed, sighing. “I’m sorry for how I said things last night. I was angry and I can’t think straight when I’m like that.”
He cocked his head at me when I responded with silence. “But I am sorry about everything. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t have hurt you.”
My eyes met his and I believed his words. I trusted them. “What’s going to happen to us now?”
“I don’t know, usually when we mate we marry, to tie human policies with that of the tribe…but that would be difficult for us to do.”
“Will your parents be angry?”
He smiled sadly at me. In that instant I felt so minuscule and young. The weight of my youth suddenly heavy and the future such a distant reach away. The fact that I knew absolutely nothing engulfed my body and numbly I watched him look away, the smile falling but the look in his eyes remain.
“Oh, yeah…” He groaned.
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After I was dispatched from the hospital, Jason followed, hiding from view but within a few feet. My mom left me at home, tucked in bed with a pitcher of apple juice and a container full of pain killers. She left for work after kissing my forehead and wishing me well. The engine of the car was loud and the echoes vibrated throughout the room even after she was completely gone.
I lay there, stiff and wondering why my chest was beginning to burn.
The bedroom window slammed open and I gasped my shriek, swallowing and coughing.
“I’m here, I’m here!” Jason called out, out of breath. He crawled in, his arms and legs tangling like a spider and deftly falling to the rug.
I was still choking on my scream when I felt a sweaty hand touch my cheek. I moaned and tears slipped from the corner of my eyes. Why the hell was I crying?
My anger caused even more to rush out.
“Sorry! Sorry…” He pulled me against him, the feel of his moist shirt that now clung to the both of us and the thick perspiration of his skin rubbing against mine lulled the pain.
My eyelids grew heavy, like my head and soon enough it was completely impossible to move at all. Jason had this effect on my body?
A hand stroked my head, running fingers through my hair to cool my scalp; the other slid fingertips up and down on my arm, comforting. “I’m sorry, I’m here now.”
“You weren’t kidding.” I mumbled against his chest with a slack jaw.
“I knew the theory, but this is new to me too. I felt my heart trying to pound out of my chest!” he chuckled in awe.
I was falling asleep again, the smell of him tickling the bottom of my belly and singeing my fingertips.
“How’s your shoulder, does it hurt?”
“I can’t feel anything but you.” I mumbled weakly, slipping from his grip.
“Shit…come on, wake up! Crap, crap, crap! Cynthia…”
I fell across his lap, the heat of his skin coursing like flames, licking mine. I gasped to breathe. I felt his arms grab me roughly, turning me over and pressing my face against something cold and soft, my shirt pushed up and off.
I should have stiffened, making sense of it all but I was so well far down the rabbit hole that I relaxed, enjoying the sudden wetness that pressed against me.
It was an honest to god slap in the face after a while, the wetness itching my bite and my body began to contract, I only noticed how bad things were when I heard my moans. I was loud, digging my toes into the mattress and arching my neck and parting my mouth.
“Ahhhhhhhh....”
The wetness was then retracted and I shivered. “Are you ok?” He whispered huskily into my ear and I shivered again at the need that had pooled down between my thighs. I nodded slowly.
“Good.” He sighed tensely and lifted himself off. I heard a muttered curse.
My eyes opened slowly, understanding what they saw and sat up even slower. “Jason.”
“Yeah?” He called out suddenly from the hallway.
“I need you.” I tried to not sound as desperate as I felt.
His head peered from the doorway, “What is it?”
“I....” I spread my legs and tilted my hips up. “I need help.”
He stared at my groin with wide eyes and a flushed face.
“Please.”
“We can’t.” Jason said in a clipped voice.

“Jason, it aches!” I moaned loudly, thrusting my hips upwards.
“Shit.....fine stay still, if you move too much it won’t work.” He strode quickly to the bed, mounting it and lifted my legs. My arms fell back and he pulled me closer, resting my thighs on his. When his torso stretched over mine, I leaned in to sniff his neck, my tongue sticking out, dripping with excitement like my groin. “Jason.” I hissed as my ankles locked around him and my tongue tasted his neck, a tremor ran through me and I moaned low. I yelped when I felt his hard on through his jeans rub against me, the course material making more friction. “Stay still.” He reminded me and began to grind, his hair making a canopy around our heads.
My mouth opened wide, making no sound but exhaling short deep breaths. Delicious.
His hands roamed to my bra and slid his finger under them, brushing against hardened nipples. His breathing was heavy, and his hips moved faster.
“Jason...” I moaned into his ear as my breath began to leave me and the bucking of my hips was erratic. His fingers fondled my breasts, caressing them and pinching the tight buds, extracting low guttural sounds from my throat. A tingling hotness began to develop on my fingertips and my joints locked.
My head fell back, my arms dropped from clutching his back and came. His thrusts were a couple more before making an animalistic growl and seeking the bite along my shoulder with his nose.
I was sated, sprawled under him, and flipped over to have him stop fidgeting and rid of the small whines that came from him from not finding the bite. He whipped his tongue against it, dragging it angrily over the scar. The feeling of calmness and sleep swept over me and I gave in happily.
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I dreamt of Jason, surprising, isn’t it?
He was sleeping on his desk during history, but the classroom was empty.
I stood at the doorway, I guess, but I wasn’t fully aware of my existence, just his.
His hair was loose, meaning it was a Tuesday and his copper glow was still slightly fresh.
My knees weakened, or at least, I got the sensation of swooning and slowly making my way to him.
His breathing changed, becoming frantically rapid. One of his hands curled and rapped at the desk. I stood by him, watching with a rising anxiety. I was expecting something, but I wasn’t sure as to what.
The window to his right was open, letting in a strong gust of wind. It rippled through me and smothered Jason’s face with his hair.
His shoulders relaxed and with swift ease, opened his eyes, fixating on me.
“Cynthia.” He sighed, rubbing his face and sitting straight, bowing his head in thought. This was my favorite trait of Jason’s. It was intriguing and elegant.
He glanced up at me briefly, probably expecting me to say something, but I didn’t even know where my mouth was, much less able to formulate a thought to verbalize.
His expression fell a bit, his eyes turning away and he murmured my name.
I loved the way he said it. My throat tightened when he lowered the husk of his voice when pronouncing the ‘ia’.
“You will not like me. You will loathe what I am and hurt.”
He paused, hoping a response. “I know you’re here. I feel it, like we feel when we’re too far away, I can feel you near and you are so close.....I can almost...” He reached his hand out to where I was but felt nothing and the bother stretching his features were a jab at my heart. “Feel you.”
He pulled his hand away and turned to the window instead. “This is a fate I cannot understand. The moon is raw and the season is dryer than it should be. Why now? Why you? I was destined for...something else, something better for us both. You are not of my kind, you will suffer, Cynthia. And your hatred will eat you away.”
He licked his bottom lip, tilting his head. “We will not end well.”
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I opened my eyes in alarm, a heavy weight suffocating me. I cough, pushing against the heavy largeness. When hair brushed my face, I dug my head deeper into the softness that made the silhouette of Jason’s heavy sleeping form. I lowered my arms, returning his weight unto me and breathed in deeply.
“Jason.” My toes curl as I say it.
He barely shifts, only enough to get into a more comfortable hold of me and burying his face in my chest. “Jason?”
He was still for seconds, flying off me and staring at me with large eyes from the foot of my bed. “Sorry.” He gulped, licking his lips and disheveling his hair.
I sat up, feeling no pain and easing quickly into a kneeling position. “It’s one.” I said meekly while looking briefly at the alarm clock on my bedside table.
He blinked, confused and taking a moment to put the pieces together. “We have to go.” He confirmed.
“To your house?”
He nodded quickly and began to leave the room, stopping still and bending his leg with a grimace. “Ugh....can I use your bathroom?”
“In the hall, second door to the left.”
“Thanks.” he muttered upset and trudged out of my room.
I felt a thin skin cracking between my thighs and got out of bed, undressing and using emergency wipes I stowed away from my pads, cleaning the dried juices off. He was still in the bathroom when I finished getting dressed. I put on a simple black dress that had pretty lace sleeves but were modest enough to not cause ideas of a later party.
“Are you ready to go?” He called from the hallway and felt slightly alienated by him.
“Yeah.” I shoved my feet into a pair of black ballet flats and walked out, closing the door behind me.
What else could possibly follow?