Entangled in Lust

13. A Kiss Beneath the Grey Sky

The rain came suddenly, like it wanted to hide the world from us. Lucas and I had just come back from the beach—a short escape from a life that had felt too loud, too tangled. The ocean breeze still clung to my hair, and sand from the shoreline stuck to the bottom of our pants. We had taken his motorbike, and just before I could return to my apartment, the sky broke open. Lucas tugged me into his house, saying his parents were out of town.

The house was quiet. Warm. The lights in the living room glowed softly, and the windows were streaked with raindrops that slid lazily down. I stood with my arms wrapped around myself, shivering in my soaked clothes. Lucas came back with a towel and draped it over my shoulders, brushing a hand across my cheek.

"You're cold," he said gently.

I nodded. He disappeared into his room and returned with a set of dry clothes.

"Your clothes are drenched. Change into these."

I took them and headed into his room. Of course, there was no underwear. Just an oversized T-shirt and a pair of boxers. I paused in front of the mirror, took a deep breath. My skin was still cold, but something warmer had begun to stir inside my chest.

I looked at my reflection. Wearing his shirt and boxers, I looked like a kid trying to play grown-up. But behind that image, something else was forming—something I didn’t quite have the words for yet.

When I stepped out, Lucas was sitting on his bed. He turned to look at me and gave a soft smile at the sight of me in his oversized clothes.

I walked toward him. My eyes caught the wall of photos—snapshots from his childhood, teenage versions of him laughing on the beach, with friends and family.

"These... they're all you?" I asked, approaching.

He stood beside me. "Yeah. My mom loves printing photos. Says it helps her see how we’ve grown."

I stared at his younger self. That carefree smile... so pure. So light. Then I looked at Lucas again, and for a few seconds, the world slowed down.

He looked back. No words. Just the shared rhythm of breath, slowly deepening.

Lucas pulled the blanket aside and sat against the headboard, patting the space beside him. I sat down, our knees touching. Silence settled between us, but it wasn’t empty.

His hands came up to cup my neck—warm, steady. Then his lips found mine. Tentative at first, slow... then deeper. This kiss wasn’t like any we’d shared before. This time, it felt like getting lost.

My hands gripped the hem of the shirt I wore. I opened my eyes slightly—just enough to see him, eyes shut tight, completely immersed in the moment.

His right hand drifted down to my stomach, pulling me closer.

We leaned back toward the bed. Not rushed. Not forced. Just... flowing.

“If you don’t want this, just say so…” he whispered between kisses.

I answered by brushing his cheek with my fingertips, then the curve of his neck. I didn’t want to think tonight. I just wanted to feel.

The shirt lifted slowly. His fingers traced the line of my back. I gasped, but not from fear—more from the rush of something I couldn’t name.

In his warm bed, in that dim room, we came together—not just in body, but in the quiet unraveling of our wounds. Lucas touched me as if I might break, and at the same time, like I was the only thing holding him together.

Our movements were slow. Gentle. Like reading poetry in silence. He kissed my shoulder as if asking permission at every point he touched. I shut my eyes, letting the sensations rise and fall across my skin. There was no pressure. Just a soft, mutual search.

We looked at each other. Our breath mingled in the quiet heat. Lucas cradled my face like it held a secret he didn’t want to lose. When his lips touched my forehead, I felt a calm I hadn't known in years.

Later, lying in his arms, he kissed my forehead and asked, “You… okay?”

I only nodded. Words wouldn’t come. My chest was still full of noise I couldn’t sort through.

But when he pulled me closer, I knew that—for that one night—I didn’t feel lost.

Still, deep down, something lingered. I stared at the gray ceiling above us, listening to the rain that hadn't stopped.

“Am I turning into my mother? Trading dignity for affection? Or is this... my way of surviving?”

And that night, under the grey sky and in that quiet house, I gave my heart—or whatever was left of it—to the one person still willing to hold it.

Maybe love wasn’t the answer. But that night, it became a blanket for wounds I hadn’t dared to tend.

Before drifting to sleep, I looked at Lucas in the faint light. He looked at peace. And for the first time... I didn’t feel like I had to be strong alone.

-------

We both dozed off, but a c***k of thunder jolted me awake. Rain still poured heavily outside. Lucas stirred as I moved, startled by the sound, and pulled the blanket up over my shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked groggily.

“Yeah, just got startled.”

Then he yawned. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really. Are you?”

“Suddenly I am. Kinda craving something warm. Want some instant noodles?”

I nodded. “Only if you cook it.”

He chuckled, scratching his head and rolling out of bed, his hair a mess. He wandered out of the room. For a brief moment, everything felt simple.

I turned back to the window. Through the falling drops, I caught my own reflection. What was I really looking for? Comfort? Protection? Or maybe... just some kind of justification.

-------

Since that night, something had shifted. Lucas and I felt more connected—too connected, maybe. Every weekend, if his house was empty, we’d end up doing it again. No talk. No planning. Just bodies and feelings. Like a habit that slowly bloomed from dependency.

But with that closeness came chaos. I couldn’t focus in class. I drifted off often. My grades slipped. Even my literature teacher called me out for a drastic drop in my essay score.

Ashley noticed. One afternoon, she pulled me aside near the cafeteria.

“Cell, what’s going on? You’re not yourself. You’re so out of it.”

I gave a weak smile. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

She sighed. “I know your family stuff’s still rough. But graduation’s around the corner, Cell. You’ve got to pull it together. If you need help studying or anything, just say so.”

Her gaze was sincere. And for the first time in a long while, I felt someone still had faith in me. I nodded slowly and said, “Thanks, Ash…”

That day, we studied together in the library. The books were open between us. We didn’t say much. But her presence was enough. And between all the scattered notes and highlighted lines, I started to gather the parts of myself I’d left behind.

But someone had been watching us. A girl known as one of Jessica’s “followers” saw us studying and spread the word. It didn’t take long for Jessica to hear.

That evening, Ashley was cornered by Jessica in the school hallway.

“You’re still friends with her?!” Jessica snapped.

Ashley’s face turned red with frustration. “I’m helping a friend who needs it. And you know what? I’m tired, Jess. Tired of being caught in the middle between you and Marcella. I’m not choosing sides.”

Jessica glared. “I thought you already picked me.”

“I didn’t pick anyone. I just want peace. But if that makes you mad, that’s on you.”

Jessica shook her head, disappointed. But Ashley didn’t back down.

-------

Elsewhere in the school, I was staring blankly at my open book in the library. But the words refused to stay still. Ashley’s voice, her honesty, and all the silence that had swallowed my days lately… they all circled in my head like pieces of a puzzle I hadn’t figured out.

My eyes landed on the corner of the page. There, scribbled faintly—not a doodle, but a name.

Dave.

The memory of him rose like a far-off echo drawing near. A name I hadn’t thought about in a while. But somehow… it felt like a place I used to call home.

And maybe, my future didn’t just depend on who held me tonight. But on who stayed when everyone else walked away.