[touch]

The blanket only covered the front of her. Though she tried, before falling asleep, to submerge herself in whatever melange of covers lay on her bed, in the end, her back was exposed. He was grateful for that. Not to mention the fact that he could tell when she started to fall asleep. Could notice the moments of labored breathing that meant she’d wake up soon. He needed these clues, these little things in life just to get him by.
When conscious, she wouldn’t let him near her. Sure, they were close–but not that kind of close. She shared secrets with him about her dreams and her brutally honest opinions: like, she wanted to go to Paris one day and live one romantic week pretending she’d grown-up there; or that he was a damned fool to get that giant tattoo across the top of his back, spelling in bold letters the word ‘BASTARD’. She didn’t accept the fact that he’d done it in honor of the ‘pet name’ she’d given him. Her confessions, like the ink on his back, were just words. He couldn’t touch them. But when she slept, that made all the difference.
He waited for her deep sigh, and for her eyelids to flutter. After minutes of silence, stillness, and fluttering, he could rest assured that his creeping out of his side of the bed into hers would go unnoticed. That draping his arm over her waist, and nuzzling the nape of her neck wouldn’t cause her to fly into a frenzy–her unjustifiable reaction seeing as she let him sleep in her bed after all.
A smile, soft as her black cami, drifted across his face. He could smell the sunscreen still sticky on her skin, the notes of apricots in her honey-colored hair. Could feel her breath press her stomach against his hand for short, rhythmic moments. He suppressed the shivers she’d get otherwise from having half her body exposed to the spring chill seeping in around the worn weather stripping. War knew he shouldn’t get pleasure from this. Jake didn’t even want a hug, let alone come this close to a kiss in the night. She didn’t want any of it. He was there to listen, to tease, to console, but from a distance.
The smile drifted from his face.
You’re a fucking idjit, he told himself in silence.
He’d prepared to graze his lips on her spine, but stopped.
She dudn’t want this.
His nose twitched and he rolled his eyes.
Weak piece of shit. There’s other tail.
He took a deep breath and leaned away to release. Lack of sleep. That’s all this was. He hadn’t gotten much since he’d started staying over a few nights ago. He couldn’t when he had to rip away before she could catch him.
He brought his arm up so he could set his hand on her shoulder, and smooth his thumb over the peak. She’d slipped into a deeper sleep moments ago. During this time, War dared to share his secrets.
“I love you,” he whispered.
His mouth moved to touch a cloud of freckles above her shoulder blade, but remained hovering over. No touching. Instead, his fingers shook above the ridge of her ear for a second, then nothing. He closed his eyes and untangled himself from her. The heavy breathing hadn’t started, but it didn’t matter.
She dudn’t want you, ya fucking loser.
War lied on his back and stared at her ceiling until it blurred.