Home, or Something Else

He woke up to the feint sound of a television. The room was dark and the bed wasn't his. He'd accidentally fell asleep in her room while waiting for her to come home from work. She'd picked him up from school and dropped him off at her apartment during her lunch break after he'd practically cried to her over the phone of how he didn't want to go to his own house just yet. It was hardly a home, nowhere near as much of a home as this place was. He felt safe here. It was all he had.

And then there was she. The woman who listened to every word he said. The woman who held him in her arms so close it made his heart beat faster. The woman who kept all of his secrets hidden safe in her heart. The woman who always reminded him of how amazing he is, and how amazing he will be. The woman he loved in a way he didn't know he could. Surely she loved him too. She is 29 and he is only 16 but what is age between two human beings with human emotions?

He crept out of the queen sized bed, still tangled in the soft, inviting blankets. He didn't actually want to get up. The comfort of knowing he was in her apartment, with her just a wall away lulled him into a sleepy daze. Knowing he was with her, in her territory made him feel safe, calmed him. It held him close before she even lifted her arms. He rose anyway, fighting his urge to wrap himself in her bed again and listen to her gentle laughs through the wall. Sitcoms were her favorite. "If everything in life were perfect, it would look like this" she'd say to me. She must not have noticed that all he cared to watch was her.

He stepped lightly across the narrow hallway, slowly coming out of his daze. From the hallway he could see her sitting on the couch, her knees resting close to her chin, snuggled in a corner of the giant gray couch. She sank into the over-plush cushion, making her look more like a child of his own age than a grown and well established businesswoman. The strap on her tank top fell gently against her arm, her bikini style panties positioned firmly against her hips. Small droplets of water fell from the ends of her tightly curled hair as if she had just showered and trailed down her soft, tan skin.

He stood at the end of the hallway, taking her in. She was perfect at every moment and all he wanted to do was rest against her chest and listen. That soothing drum that kept the love of his life alive. His own heart beat at her command. Speeding up, slowing down and skipping whenever she willed it. Allowing someone to have such control over him would have angered him, but with her, it was different.

"Anybody in there?" she called to him, leaning playfully over the armrest. He was jolted out of his daze and replied with a mere exhale. She smiled at him. It was cute, not in the least bit intimidating, and it made him smile. She moved back into her original place at the opposite corner of the couch, but this time she was laying face up with her arms out to him.
"Lay with me." her voice was soft and enticing, almost sensual. He walked towards her, but sat on the other end of the couch, away from her instead.
"I have homework." it almost hurt him to deny her.
"Do it later." she must have been very eager to be with him. She was always adamant about him getting his work done, never wanting to be his regret.
"This IS later." his attempts to fight her off were feeble. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her, but his homework...
"Hmmm,... ok. but hurry!" she sat up about an inch and watched him ready himself for his work. She watched him move. He was rushy, clumsy, violent, but more than anything, he was absent. His thoughts swirled in his mind taking up almost all of his attention. Almost all. He opened a notebook and began writing. She would have wondered what it was he was writing but she was much too preoccupied with the way he wrote it. The way his fingers propelled the pen, the muscles in his arm contracting and relaxing accordingly. She was craving his touch. The weight of his body resting gently on top of hers. The sound of his near steady breathing playing in tune with his gentle thrusts. She watched him as he wrote. Words or numbers she didn't care for. She watched and he wrote and then he stopped.
"Are you done?"
"No."
"So finish."
"I...I can't." which was a good enough reason for her at that moment. She got up and pressed against him, his arms wrapping firmly, gently around her. He took in her scent, something sweet and subtle and perfect, and brushed his lips across her neck. She sat on top of him only to get placed underneath. He looked deep into her eyes, losing himself in fantasies of him and her being somewhere other than a couch with Seinfeld playing in the background. He wanted to love her, the right way, but for now this was good enough. She was good enough.

His arms supported her back as he worked his way down from her neck to her chest, lingering on her breasts then down to her stomach and back to her breasts. His kisses never went farther than her stomach, but he was young and she didn't mind. She ran her fingers through his hair, grasping tighter when he did something right, and letting go when she got bored. He worked back up to her neck, maneuvering his hand down the front of her clean white panties. His mouth and his hand moved against a steady beat, different for each. Her subtle moans drowned out the sound of the t.v. and made his heart beat faster. His hand got clumsy under the pressure and stopped while still inside her. She rested her hand on his cheek and he regained his focus. Her moans got louder the faster his fingers moved, having the same control over her as she had over him. He slowly allowed his fingers to leave her body in exchange for another part of him. She let her head fall back against the arm of the couch and her eyes closed as she concentrated solely on his steady thrusts. He watched her move, watched her face react to his movement, watched her chest move up and down as to cater to her heavy breathing. He watched her arms slowly, thoughtlessly search for something to grasp, finally settling on his own forearms. Her moans grew louder, his heart beat faster, and they remained this way for what felt like only a moment once it was over. Her skin was red from his kisses, and his skin red with her firm grasps. They, together, were left slightly bruised, swollen and exhausted.

He let his body fall in between her and the couch, sinking gently in the cushion and more so into her. She turned her body to face him and stroked the hair that fell against his face. He allowed his hand to massage her waist, staring into her eyes as they stared back into his. He fell asleep again, but this time with her laying beside him. When he awoke, the orange light of dawn shone through the window and onto him, warming his body. She wasn't there, but his homework was.

Author's Note

I felt like I slacked on character development, so please tell me how you interpret each character, what personality types they seem to have, and explain how to got to that conclusion. Who are they and what are their intentions?