nina semen.

i’m squirming. i’m trying not to, but it’s involuntarily.

he forces his hand between her legs; i cross and uncross my own. he chews his gum, ask her if she likes it hard; i clench my thighs together. cross them again. he pulls her by her hair from the bath, throws her into the hall; my heart is beating so fast i think it’s going to explode.

out of my peripheral vision i see him look at me. i realize i’m licking the inside of my upper lip, draw my tongue back into my mouth and close it.

“are you serious?”

i look at him, feigning a puzzled look. he’s not fooled. we continue watching for a bit longer. he sucks his teeth in annoyance and pauses the television, tossing the remote onto the coffee table. it clangs and slides to the floor.

“he raped her!” he says, exasperated, turning his body towards me.

“it’s not about that,” i reply softly, and he sucks his teeth again, this time in disbelief. “it’s not about that” i repeat.

“i know you think dude is hot, but damn” he sighs.

“it’s not about the rape. it’s not even really about tom hardy,” i tell him, leaning back into the cushions of the couch, “even if she’d been a willing participant i would have found it just as hot.”

“oh,” he says, rubbing his mouth, “i know that.” he’s so jealous of my infatuation with that thick lipped Brit.

“forget it,” i tell him. i stand up and walk to the kitchen. he doesn’t follow me.

he’s so nice. he’s so nice, all the time, day and night. in and out of bed. so. fucking. nice. he could never even imagine treating me the way freddie treated maggie in that scene. there’s no use trying to explain it, he won’t understand. it would only confuse him to try to tell him why i liked it, make him feel inferior if i told him i wanted it. roughing me up is not something he’s capable of and i appreciate that about him. i won’t ask for it, but it doesn’t mean i won’t fantasize about getting it. from tom hardy.

a girl wants what a girl wants, after all…