Note: I'm not sure if I should develop a narrative out of this, but I knew I needed to write it out. I only use names once, and I also have fragments! They were on purpose, don't worry. Enjoy!
Only Sixteen
She was only sixteen, he knew that. Her youthful physique was almost painful for him to look at. The luminous glow on her face lingered in his mind for too long. He sat at the edge of his bed every night, hands gripped within his wirery hair, trying to pull out the shameful thoughts that ran through his mind. Then he would look over at the mess he already married, with the shriek of a restless child in the background.
She didn't know how old he was, or what he was all about. She did know, however, that he was too old for her and she shouldn't be looking at him in a romantic manor. Though the summer heat made it almost impossible to contain herself when he was near. "If only he knew," she thought to herself.
Society stamped these two unlikely people as freaks, leading them to create a barrier between each other. The generic workplace was what brought them together. She was a minimum wage cleaning associate, and he was an educated orderly. Both fulfilled their daily duties within a medical hospital.
It was a humid Friday night, though the hospital was chilled to satisfy its sickly customers. She was headed up to third floor to attend to bed sheets, and he was headed up to the sixth floor to assist a patient. Both ended up in the same elevator, though that particular elevator had a history of stalling. They entered the elevator, she pressed three, and he punched in six. Before the ancient elevator could hoist itself up to the second floor, it locked, leaving its passengers locked inside.
Both shuffled in annoyance as a raspy voice announced that help was on its way. He then looked at her as she stared at her chipping finger nail polish. He loved everything about her even though he didn't even know her name. The way she blinked and her eyelashes fluttered like weightless feathers. Her virgin skin was soft enough to sooth even the roughest of men. Temptation enraged him as he fought against himself to resist swallowing her up in and embrace, and indulging in her divine lips.
Her eyes met his. She flushed for she knew exactly what she wanted to do, but throwing herself on an older man was not something she wanted to risk. Intensity burned through her eyes and shinned on his. He wanted to hear her speak, and she wanted him to be closer. Close enough to feel the warmth emanate off his skin.
"What's your name?" She shattered the silence with her innocent voice.
"Joeseph." He replied shortly, stunned by her question. He wanted to hear it again, and again. For the rest of his life. "What's your name?" His voice almost broke for he had to clear his throat.
"Lacey," she replied softly,"How old are you?" She said without thought. She was stunned at her frankness and quickly apologised.
He laughed and replied,"I am twenty six." He suddenly felt nervous about his decision to reveal his real age. He then eased when her saw that she was still gazing at him with the same intensity. "Perhaps, age did not phase her." He thought to himself.
She indeed did not care about his age, though she knew she should. She was too intrigued by her fancy for him to care. "Oh, well I'm sixteen," she said averting her attention to the floor.
"I know," he said deeply. She shot a look of confusion at him. He quickly stepped backwards to try and escape the thick awkwardness in the air. "I mean uh, I saw it on your file," He began to perspire as he searched for a new statement. Meanwhile she was stepping towards him in a confrontational manor. "No, wait I mean someone told me. Yeah, someone told me," he sputtered.
"Oh really?" Her eyes were becoming more and more provocative. The elevator was small, but all of a sudden is altered into a large battle field of who could keep their composure the longest. He couldn't take it any longer.
He gripped her arm and pulled her close to him. She stared up at him in shock, but she showed no sign of complaint. She was now close enough to feel him, though she feared her heartbeat was too loud. He concentrated on her eyes. His thick masculine eyebrows almost made him look angry. She simply let him take control of her as she innocently remained limp in his clutch.
"I shouldn't be doing this," he stated. Before she could ask what he pressed his lips against hers, making the heat from both of their bodies twine together. He released her, almost throwing her to the other side of the elevator. He turned around in dismay against himself. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Please, don't be." She approached him once more, but more cautiously. He only turned his head to find her small body behind him. He felt large and powerful, but he also felt as if he had abused his power over her. But it was too late to take anything back now. She had fallen madly in love with him, without a fight.
The elevator jolted back into working condition. She got off at the third floor, and he followed.
