A Certain Kind of Death

"What ever happened to your friend August?" The name brought back memories. Summers, beaches, her first kiss on a boat. He was all golden curls, powder blue eyes, and tennis on the weekends. It hadn't really worked out.

"I don't really have a clue. Why?"

"I ran into him in New York, he asked about you. He's such a gorgeous boy, I don't know why you never gave it a shot with him," her mother simpered. June loved August. He was a sophisticated boy from New York Steph had befriended in her teenage years, when she belonged to the regional orchestra. They had shared first stand in the violin section, alternating in the role of concertino. Steph laughed, pouring coffee into two mugs.

"We did date, though, mom. Did you think we'd get married?"

"Well, I wouldn't have minded. Stephanie Auer has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" she mused.

"I like Stephanie Way way better. Get it?" Her mother rolled her green eyes, turning her attention back to the cookie batter she was mixing.

"I'll never understand," she sighed disdainfully.

"You don't have to, that's my job," Steph smiled. "Also, it was just a joke. No marriage in the future, however, Gerard is coming over to dote on my frail person, so please be polite and send him upstairs."

"Of course, your grace," her mother replied sarcastically. "Also, taking food upstairs is a nasty habit, my child."

"I'll bring the mugs back down," Steph called as she crept up the stairs and into her room. She'd bought several movies, ranging from horror, sci-fi, and comedy to add to the collection under her television. Beside it, on the long dresser, she smiled fondly at the small square frame containing a drawing Gerard did on a napkin on their first date. It was her, features exaggerated in Gerard's angular style.

It read: To Steph, hope this is the first of many. xoxo G

"Wow, that's ancient," he suddenly said, making her jump. "You didn't hear me stomping in here like an elephant?"

"I was concentrating really hard on your napkin drawing, so no." She handed him one of the mugs and kissed him, getting a hint of cigarette when she pulled back. "Pick something to watch." She sat cross-legged on her bed as Gerard went through the collection, commenting on each movie, since they'd watched most of them together anyway. She thought he'd pick one of the new ones, but he ended up pulling out The Secret Garden.

"Nineties kids movie it is," he said at last, kicking off his sneakers and jacket. "I'm just in the mood for something peaceful," he explained when she gave him an odd look. There was something off about him that she couldn't quite place. He shut the light off and crawled into bed, Steph throwing an arm around his middle and her head on his chest as he fumbled with the control, finally hitting play. She knew the movie by heart, focusing instead on how much smaller his body felt under her limbs. Thinner, slightly harder. His cheeks had lost their characteristic roundness, sharpening his features.

He didn't really talk much, halfheartedly poking fun at her during the movie, because she reminded him of the protagonist, Mary Lennox.

"Are you eating okay?" she asked, thirty minutes into the movie.

"Sure, why?"

"I can't find your tummy," she replied, splaying her fingers and circling its flat surface with her hand. He huffed a laugh and pushed her hand down to his crotch, in an uncharacteriscally bold move that had her face burning.

"That's kinda not what I want you to find, right now." It had been a few months, she realized. She froze up and withdrew her hand, but Gerard tilted her head and captured her mouth with his, shifting his weight so she was on her back. The tips of his fingers were just barely under the waistband of her bed pants when she broke the kiss with a nervous giggle and turned onto her side, away from him. It was a mix of her parents being in the house and his strange mood that held her back, murmuring that they should just watch the movie. Gerard said nothing, but didn't move away either as the film went on. It seemed she had dozed off halfway through, his warmth behind her.

She didn't know how long she'd slept, but she awoke to the television on low and Gerard's mouth sucking on her neck, his chest flush against her back. He slid a hand under her shirt, up her stomach, palming her breasts firmly. His fingers circled the edges of her scar. She knew she should stop him, make him leave, hold her ground, but it felt wrong to deny him a second time. She made a move to turn around, but he held her in place by the hip.

"Don't fucking move," he hissed in her ear, making her freeze. There was fumbling behind her, she could hear his belt being undone, his body shifting for a moment, and with a backwards glance, she caught a glimpse of his hand working up and down his length. It was obscene, and it excited her, only tearing her eyes away when he undid her pants and pushed them down to her knees, so she could feel his hardness against her bare bottom.

"G, my parents," she whispered, swallowing a moan as his fingers pushed into her from behind. He knew what she liked, how to wake her up.

"Door's locked. We'll be quiet, baby." And he was pushing into her then, pumping a few times until her was buried to the hilt and she thought she would lose her mind. Gerard covered her mouth with his left hand, feeling her breath sharpen against it as he slammed into her. Who was this man, she wondered as he kissed under her ear. He wasn't gentle or asking what she wanted, he seemed more intent on possessing her while she lay there and took it. Then he pushed her onto her stomach, her face into the pillow, where she could hardly breathe with his weight on her. She gasped when it became painful and tried to blink back tears. It wasn't fun anymore.

"G, stop... stop it," she whined, trying to push off the bed. He covered her mouth again, but didn't let up. It was even worse. She tried and failed to push him off, twisting her arm back so hard she thought he'd break it.

"Shh, I'm almost done, I promise." His hands released her and skimmed down to her hips, where his fingers dug in, grinding her skin against bone until she sobbed into fabric. It wasn't long before she heard him make a low, throaty grunt; she could feel him twitch inside her and a foreign warmness fill her up. Gerard pulled away and slid up his pants, breathing heavily as she scrambled up, back against the headboard. He glared at her, his eyes dark, but said nothing as she clutched her knees to her chest and stared back.

"Just get out," she at last said lowly, unable to bear the sight of him. He looked almost blank as he did up his belt buckle, ran a hand through his hair, and left her to cry in bed. She couldn't get the smell of cigarettes and his body to go away, hysteria bubbling up in her throat.

Notes