Page 19 of Waters that Drown Us

If I’m going to die, I want towant. And to be wanted in return.

Emily’s so close, her lips brushing mine like she’s savoring every second. Her hand is pressed firmly into my back now, so steady and warm. On instinct, I run my tongue along the back of my teeth, a nervous habit.

And stop.

“Wait,” I say, slipping my fingers from hers and stepping back. She straightens immediately, moving further away from me as well.

“I’m sorry,” she immediately says, her hands going behind her back like she’s punishing herself. “We’re working together, I shouldn’t have…”

“No,” I cut her off, trying to figure out how I’m going to get around this particular issue. She can’t kiss me, even though I want it more than most things I’ve wanted in my life. “I just…I’ve never kissed someone before.”

The lie slips out easily, like the dozens of others I’ve told her, but it feels worse. It sits in my stomach like a little lead ball, rolling around and filling me with poison.

Emily’s face is understandably shocked. We’re about the same age, and I imagine she’s plenty…experienced. The thought makes my skin feel sunburnt.

“You’ve…”

“Never been kissed, yeah, I know it’s strange,” I rush out, trying to use the pieces of truth I’ve allowed from my past to fillin a backstory. “I was sheltered, and my parents were very strict. I’ve been pretty isolated since I moved to the States.”

“Oh, okay I guess that makes sense,” she says warily, running her hand through her hair. The lightning feeling from before comes back when her gaze snags on my exposed hip, from where her hand was. “I apologize if I pushed too far.”

No, please, push further, I want to say aloud. I don’t know how to get her to keep touching me without kissing her. Because I don’t want to give up the feeling of her skin on mine, but I also don’t trust myself not to kill her if she kisses me. I fear that, with her mouth on mine, I might accidentally break the capsule of rattlesnake poison hidden in a false cap in my back molar that’s saved for someone special.

The pleasure of dying by my lips is for Ilya alone.

“I liked it,” I say, my voice desperate as I take a step closer to her. She’s cautious with her gaze now, but I still catch her looking at my lips. I know what indifference looks like. Emily is not indifferent to me. “I liked how it felt when you touched me.”

I take one step closer to her, nerves and guilt and anticipation building in my stomach as she lets me draw nearer. Apparently I’m going to ask everything of Emily. To be the only person I tell my truths to. To have her be the first and last person to touch me. To die because of me.

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“Did you?” she asks. I can’t tell if she’s really unsure, or she’s pressing me to admit more.

“I did,” I admit quietly, reaching for her hand and gently placing it back on my exposed skin. Her fingers flex like she feels the electric current too.

“Do you want me to touch you more?” Emily asks, her hand completely still as she waits for my reaction. I nod, victory sweeping through my chest as she moves closer.

“And you don’t want me to kiss you?”

I shake my head and she leans down again, her mouth so close to mine I consider taking the risk and hoping I have more control than I know I do.

“Just your mouth?” she asks, and I don’t move, because I’m not sure what she’s asking. She waits a few beats. “Am I allowed to kiss you anywhere else?”

The electric current is so strong I feel myself shaking, but that’s not what makes me nod yes. It’s the thought of Emily’s mouth anywhere, everywhere. She’s so methodical, so exact. I wonder how she’d be with my body as the research subject.

I really hope I’m about to find out.

Chapter 10

Emily

Alice lied.

Not a lie like all the others before. Not to keep herself safe, not to obscure her past. It's a lie I don’t understand the motive of.

I’ve seen her kiss Ilya dozens of times, in recordings and through live feeds. Chaste, lustless kisses, sure, but I imagined that was Alisa’s preference. I assumed that their engagement would have come with the modern physical expectations, regardless of how protective her father clearly was. I can’t tell if she’s simply lying about all her sexual experience, for some unimaginable reason, or just the kissing bit.

And right now, I really don’t care.