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The clock ticked softly in the corner of Phoenix’s small, cosy apartment. 3:00am. Maya sighed as she glanced away, tightening the many blankets she was wrapped up in on the sofa, but comfort still eluded her. Her face was lit up solely by the TV that hummed dully as she tried to engage with the random show that had come on, the remote feeling too out of reach on the other side of the room. It was just like old times, but entirely different.
Just hours ago, she was an entanglement of limbs and passion in his bed, hanging on to his every kiss and touch, murmuring his name so much she almost forgot her own. But once it was all over and he was quick to succumb to sleep, she was lying awake with trembling lips.
What is this, Nick? What do I mean to you?
To think this had only started a short few months ago. They had just won a particularly difficult case together, and of course Maya had insisted they celebrate ‘properly’ at dinner; drinks flew off the table and the more inebriated they got, the more drinks materialised. She wasn’t sure who initiated what, she only recalled the mischievous glint in his eyes at the table that carried over to the bedroom later that night, and waking up next to him, realising that nothing about their friendship would be the same.
They swore that they would never do it again. That it was too weird to be like that with each other, just an alcohol fuelled mistake.
But she could swear Phoenix acted differently after that. He was getting a little too close: touching the small of her back whilst they shared an umbrella through an unrelenting downpour on a walk back to the office, casually putting his arm around her during their usual weekend movie night on his couch… Things she wouldn’t have deeply thought about prior to their entanglement.
Until one day, on another late night on the sofa together, he turned to her, eyes soft.
“Maya…”
The way he said her name flooded back the hazy memories of before.
“Y-yeah?” She was meek, powerless to his gaze that had her cheeks tinging pink.
Her cheeks burned as he traced her jaw, carefully tucking a stray piece of dark hair behind her ear. Tentatively, she reached to touch his other hand, leaning in slightly as she did. He was smiling at her; she wasn’t sure if it was the wine, the late ambience or something else entirely, but it was melting her all the same. The darkness of the room was her only solace in disguising her rollercoaster of emotions.
“If you wanna kiss me, you should just say so.” Her retort was only half playful, but the next thing she knew, the small distance between them had been closed by a warm pair of lips.
That’s how they tainted the couch she now tried to sleep on.
***
On the surface, their bond appeared unchanged. In the day, she would continue to assist him in cases, poking fun at him along the way and making him fluster like she always used to. Apart from some lingering touches and knowing stares, it was like nothing had ever happened between them.
Until it got late, and their bodies were pressed together, melting the sexual tension they had cultivated between one another through the day. Maya found herself having far too much fun discovering his body and letting him explore hers; it felt so right to be so intimate with the person that she trusted most in the world. But her excitement would be fleeting, as she would be left alone to ponder his mixed feelings.
“This is my friend, Maya,” He would say when introducing her to anyone, and the words would sting.
Friend? Is this what she was to him? She could feel her stomach twist at the notion; Maya had friends, none of which behaved the way she and Phoenix did together. Lover seemed to be the more appropriate word, but was that really what they were? At times she felt she saw a side of him no one else got to see, a side just for her… Other times she was left to wonder if she had hallucinated the whole thing. She wanted to confront him, to know what he was really thinking, but she feared treading that line would upset the balance of their fragile dynamic — what if the vulnerability cost her everything?
The thought was still lingering in her head one night as he trailed sweet kisses onto her neck, her body pushed into the softness of his bed and her hands full of his soft, dark hair. This time, she couldn’t stop the words from vomiting out of her mouth.
“Nick, what is going on? Between us? Like, what are we calling this?”
He froze for a moment. Slowly he sat up from her, clearly stalling for time. He scratched the back of his head and a sheepish smile found his lips, barely holding her inquisitive stare.
“Uh… casual?”
She blinked, and wondered if he could hear the audible break of her heart. Casual? So whilst she was losing her mind over him and overthinking herself into oblivion, to him this was no different to putting on a pair of socks in the morning?
“Duh, of course,” she quipped back, smiling to regain her composure quickly before he could read her thoughts.
Swiftly, she covered his lips with hers before she had time to feel anything else apart from his touch.
She was too tired for any more of his reality checks.