Headfirst

Michelle barely noticed the hum of the elevator as it carried them upward. The soft mechanical whirr blended into the thunder of her own heartbeat, her earlier request echoing over and over in her mind.

When we get upstairs, can we, like, just go to bed right away?

She felt Roy's hand wrapped around hers, warm and steady, and she held on tightly, unwilling to let go. His fingers dwarfed her own, his palm rougher, older, grounding in a way she hadn't known she needed until now. Every time his thumb brushed absent-mindedly against her knuckles, it sent a small, reassuring spark through her chest.

She was excited. So excited she felt like she might float.

And nervous.

This was a big step. Maybe the biggest step she had ever taken with anyone. The day had been heavy, dramatic, exhausting in ways she still hadn't fully processed. The intensity of the severing of the relationship with her one remaining parent felt raw, but it also felt like it opened a door to new possibilities. Maybe she could take the time to discover who she really was, who she could be. It was stressful, it was overwhelming, but underneath all of it, there was one clear, steady truth pulsing through her.

As long as she had Roy in her life, she had what she needed.

The elevator chimed softly as the doors slid open. Neither of them spoke as they stepped into the hallway, still hand-in-hand, moving together toward the apartment like they were following an invisible thread pulling them forward. When they reached the door, Michelle leaned lightly against the wall beside it, smiling up at him.

"Still waiting for my key, mister man," she teased.

Roy glanced at her as he reached into his pocket. His smile appeared, small and slightly crooked, tinged with nerves that made her heart squeeze with affection.

"Soon," he said.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it for her. She slipped inside, the familiar scent of the apartment wrapping around her. He followed, closing the door behind them. The soft, final click of the lock echoed louder than it should have.

For a brief, reckless second, she wanted to spin around, grab his shirt, and drag him straight to the bedroom. The urge hit her so suddenly she almost laughed. Instead, she pressed her lips together, steadying herself. She wanted this to be perfect. Not rushed. Not clumsy. Perfect.

"I need to freshen up," she said, trying to sound casual even as excitement fizzed in her veins. "I'll meet you in the bedroom, 'kay?"

That same nervous smile appeared again. It was a little tighter this time, a little more uncertain. He was adorable.

Obviously, he wanted this to be perfect too. The thought made warmth bloom through her chest, deeper than her excitement, deeper than her nerves. She loved him for it. She loved him for so many things.

"Okay," he said softly.

Stepping out of her heels, she turned before she could second-guess herself and hurried toward the washroom, her bare feet whispering across the floor. Once the door closed behind her, she exhaled sharply, pressing her back against it.

"Okay," she whispered to herself.

She slipped her dress over her head, carefully folding it and setting it aside. She paused for a moment, fingertips brushing over the fabric. She really did love that dress; the soft blue background scattered with pink flowers that made her feel bright and alive and noticed.

But tonight wasn't about the dress.

She turned toward the mirror. Standing there in her bra and blue panties, she studied her reflection, tilting slightly from side to side. Her pulse fluttered in her throat. Slowly, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall away. She set it on the counter and looked again.

Just the blue panties.

She nodded once, firm and decisive.

"Yes," she murmured. "That'll do."

Moving quickly now, she brushed her teeth, watching her reflection the whole time as if trying to memorize this version of herself, the girl on the edge of something enormous. When she finished, she rinsed, then grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water, taking an extra moment to freshen up down below, cheeks warming even though she was alone.

Everything had to be perfect.

When she finished, she straightened, smoothing her hands down her sides. She struck a quick pose in the mirror, shifting her weight to one hip, testing a playful smile. Her nerves fluttered harder. She reached for the doorknob.

And froze.

What happens now?

Her hand hovered there, fingers curled loosely around the handle as her thoughts spiralled. She knew how sex worked, obviously. She wasn't totally clueless. But the starting part, the moment between deciding and doing, that felt like standing at the edge of a diving board she'd never jumped from before.

Did she walk out all slow and confident, like in a movie, with some sexy line?

Did she stride out like Elaine would, poised and certain, telling him it was time for bed like it was the most natural thing in the world?

Did she just stand in the doorway and let him come to her, let him come take her?

Her heart began to beat faster.

She didn't want to get this wrong. Roy meant too much to her. Tonight meant too much. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, inhaled slowly, then released the breath.

No, she decided.

She wasn't going to let nerves steal this from her. She didn't need to be elegant or polished or mysterious. She just needed to be herself. Roy loved her. He knew that she wasn't Elaine, that she wasn't a movie star. He had chosen her, Michelle, out of all the women he could have. They were together on purpose. And that meant something.

Michelle turned the knob and stepped into the hallway.

The bedroom door stood open, the soft lamplight inside spilling across the floor. She looked toward it and saw him. Her boyfriend.

Roy stood on the far side of the room, clearly having prepared himself too. He wore only grey boxer shorts, his posture slightly stiff, like he wasn't sure where to put his hands or how to stand naturally. The gentle curve of his stomach, the faint thinning at his hairline, the quiet vulnerability in his expression...

To Michelle, he looked like a dream. The most attractive man she had ever seen.

Her carefully constructed plan dissolved instantly. Sophistication vanished. Strategy disappeared. All that remained was the simple, undeniable certainty of what she wanted.

She smiled, bright and unstoppable.

Then she ran.

She crossed the room in a rush of bare feet and laughter, launching herself into his arms. Roy barely had time to react before she wrapped herself around him, her hands sliding up around his shoulders as her lips found his.

The kiss landed firm and eager and full of every emotion she hadn't known how to put into words.

And in that moment, she stopped thinking entirely, letting herself fall headfirst into the feeling of finally being exactly where she wanted to be.