Written by Jacob Ibrag
I was grading papers by the TV, and you were watching me.
Careful with your stares, changing direction ever so slightly when
my eyes redirected at you. There you were, pretend watching Game of
Thrones. You hate this show because of all the blood and racy scenes,
only watching it because of me. As I switch my attention to the grading,
your hand slithers over to my thigh. I stop what I’m doing and look at her
once more. You look back this time, what’s on your mind? You start to move
your lips closer to mine. You want to treat me with a soft kiss. Misdirection.
You bypass my anxious lips, and hover them next to my ear. You moan,
and I know what’s coming. Words start forming from the moans, ‘You
don’t know nothing, John Snow.’ Laughter. Teasing.
You got me. I’m going to finish grading.