Rougher and Tougher

He pulled away after a few milliseconds, watching my eyes widened, and my mouth fall open. He. He kissed....me? Did he just do that? Was this real life? I didn't know whether to be embarrassed or angry at that moment, so I just settled for shocked. My lips tingled with the sudden relief of pressure, and I had to reach up to touch them to make sure they were still there. I snapped my hand back down to my side after a millisecond. I noticed, as I glanced up at him, that his expression mirrored mine to a tee, as if he didn't realize he did that. My fingers itched to do something but, the utter shock of the situation made them stay still at my side.

We stood, for a good five minutes without saying anything, and frankly I don't think we had anything to say that wasn't already evident. He let out a long sigh, and ran a hand over his buzzed hair. Suddenly, as the arrow of realization stuck into my head, my hands were in action. I slapped him harder than the last time.

"You fucking jackass." I roared, my anger boiling over, "Vous n'avez pas le droit de me toucher" It came out in French by accident, as it usually does when I'm fuming like this. [Tr: You don't have the right to touch me]. He did understand, I noticed, only a few select words but, he knew. I groaned out, and whipped around, leaving him in the main hallway of the restaurant. Alone. Like he deserved.

I ran. Ran faster than I've ever ran towards the doors out of the lobby. I pushed open, and drew in short breaths of the hot, humid air of Montreal. I begun walking, I don't know in which direction; I just needed to get away. Somewhere where their was no draft, there was no hockey, and for sure there was no Alexander Galchenyuk. I could barely breath with the thought of him. His light blue eyes, like the color of an icicle. His brown hair. His big strong hands. His everything made me want to jump off a bridge.

As I walked, my mind was flooded with the feeling of his hands on my hips, drawing me closer, his lips on mine like a distant memory. I liked it. Which in turn made me terrified. I liked the thought of his mind all over me all the time. Fantasizing about my lips all hours of the night, admiring me from a far. I ran my hand through my undone blonde hair. I was close to tears as I pushed my way through the crowded sidewalk, my head down. He was just a boy. A boy who was going to the Canadiens with me. Who I'd play with. Who I'd celebrate with. Why couldn't he be the same as the rest of the guys on my previous teams? No, of course, he had to be different.

He had to be.

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I slipped through the door about eight or nine that night, exhausted from walking around trying to clear my head of Alex. I didn't hear them which was good considering my roommate's best friend kissed me in a hallway of a restaurant about an hour and a half ago. I kicked off my shoes, and continued into the still half made up room. I wanted to just fall into bed, and sleep but, I had to take a shower and put on my pajamas. I probably stuck of sweat and women's axe, that I'd previously drenched myself in- having no time to have a shower after my twenty minute nap. I threw my t-shirt over my head, and tossed it on top of my duffel bag, then slipping off my pants and doing the same. I rummaged through my bag for a second finding my sweat pants and a tank top.

I exited the main room into the bathroom, seeing that I should take a shower before my room is overrun by guys I don't like. I sighed, wondering why drama always seemed to happen to me. I turned on the tap, and returned to the mirror, unclipping my bra and stepping out of my panties. I picked out my brush from the small makeup bag that I'd deposed on the counter. I ran it through my long blonde hair a few times, getting out all the tangles. Soon after I stepped into the warmth of the shower, I begun lathering my hair with shampoo then conditioner. The simplest things from home were enough to soothe my pending homesickness. I wrapped myself in a blank white hotel towel, and stepped out into the cold room.

I couldn't describe the stillness in the room as I moved to the stack of clothes I'd left on the bed. Nothing had been touched since I entered the bathroom, and while I'd expected Nail to be sitting on the bed, I couldn't help but miss his presence in the room.

As soon as I was done changing, I slipped into bed with thoughts of Alex in my head, and no one else.

Notes

Dammmnnn gurl, are you a fire detector? Cause' you make me wanna find the nearest exit.