It's the eye contact that makes your guilt fade away.

Somehow, you know that if Noah had pressed you into the bed, warm and soft as he always was, but did so face-down... all you would see is Lon's heartbroken face when you delivered the news. And you think, maybe, that would have been your escape. That if Noah had decided to flip you over with his calloused, warm hands and blanket over your back, you would have been able to leave. You would have the courage- or rather, the weakness- to pack your bags in the morning and go back to your parents, and to Lon.

Noah does not give you that luxury.

Noah makes it difficult on purpose. He lays you out on the bed, the softness of the comforter lulling you as he kneels in front of you, holding your legs as he slides your tights off with a calm sort of ferocity behind his eyes. It's love, you realize, but not in the innocent way Lon looks at you. Not in the- albeit, slightly superficial- way Lon describes how he can't wait to wed you, start a family with you. Like it's rehearsed. Like he could say it to any other girl and it would weigh about as much as it does with you. But it isn't that way with Noah.

Noah is mean. Noah's love stares deep into your soul and dares you to deny it. He is gentle, but firm. You're a piece of glass, and yet he acknowledges that if he doesn't have some sort of grip on you, you'll slip through his fingers and shatter. His eyes never stray from yours- not as he pulls your tights off, and now as he crawls over your body like it's second nature. Like it's as easy as the sun rising and falling. He's big- bigger than you remember. A man now. And you're a woman, no longer a girl. And yet you yearn for him so deeply as you had all those years ago.

He maintains eye-contact as he pulls your engagement ring off your finger. It clatters to the floor and you do nothing to stop it.

Noah looks at you like he wants to bury every inch of himself inside of you. Not just literally- although the nudging at your hip suggests so- but in every way possible. He doesn't just want to marry you- he needs to. It has to be you. And he doesn't just want a family with you. He needs a family with you. He wants to rut himself into you in a filthy manner that would put Lon to shame. And he does. He maps out your body like it's binding his soul. He devours you like water in a desert. He gives and gives and gives, and somehow, that manages to provide him with only an ounce of everything he wants to give you.

You're not going back to Lon. He knows that. Because even as he finishes inside of you, he maintains eye contact. And he dares you to look away. To go away from him. To say it's too hard. It's not fair. It's not that simple.

Lon will find another girl like you.

Noah knows that other girl doesn't exist.

So, he has you, laying on his chest, bare as the day you both were born. Legs intertwined under the covers, his strong arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders, idly hand-feeding you a leftover biscuit from dinner, drowning in fresh jam and honey because you need to get your strength back. He doesn't say it, but once is not enough. It never will be,

He smears honey on your nose.