Ayden pushed the door and got in. He immediately noticed the large bed, with nice beddings on it. A sky-blue towel was on the headboard. Five large pillows were surely a lot for a girl like her, and the large human size teddy bear on the end of the bed seemed really unnecessary. He picked up the blue vibrancy of the room, with posters of world-famous gym athletes and Game of Thrones actors. Behind her door was her computer desk, with the obvious electronic entities well on it, a book and pens. There was a polythene bag that had dropped on the overflowing little trash can of her room.
He moved through the room as she watched him. His eyes moved to the window that was directly opposite the door and swayed the curtains open. He saw her treehouse, and the rope that was dangling on the outside of her bedroom window, being rained on heavily. He turned around and saw her large closet. He headed to it, opened it up, and discovered it was a walk-in closet. Clothes and shoes and jewelry were neatly arranged inside and he found himself staying in there longer than he had anticipated.
"Hey," Ingrid called for him. "You're so lost in there. Are we going to do this or what?"
"Yeah." He answered her as he came out. "I like what you have here. So impressive. My girlfriend's a billionaire daughter."
"You wish," she replied immediately, "you should see my mom's! She has this idea about fashions and sometimes I feel like she's the teenager and I'm…"
"Ssh," Ayden said as he placed a finger on her lips. "Let's not waste any more time."
"You have any condoms?" Ingrid asked.
"No. We don't need them."
"Fine," Ingrid said. "Close the door, and get out of your clothes."
"No need to tell me twice," Ayden said. He went over and closed the door shut. He leaned on it for a while before he moved to Ingrid who was already getting out of her bra with a smile stretching on her face.
****************
She was lying chest up, covered in her bed sheets. Her hair was tangled and messy, her skin as dry as a bad joke. Her fingers played with her hair, as they intertwined and coiled and twisted and turned around. He was seating on the edge of the bed in his boxers, fingers clenched together and head bent low. His crinkly hair was less messed up. His skin was oily and his eyes were fixed on something on the floor, seeming to have zoned out already as he was lost in thoughts.
"What was that?" He asked her after he came to his senses.
"I'm sorry, I told you I wasn't in the mood Ayden." She told him.
"But how? I mean it didn't even last more than five minutes!"
"Ayden I'm sorry. It's something to do with my hormones. I'm just not feeling a vibe for sex."
"Shit. This is all just messed up. We used to crave such lone moments you and me. And we had sex when we could. And now that we have this chance… fuck."
"Babe, I'm sorry."
"You know what?" He asked as she stood on his feet.
"What?"
"I really don't know what Freya did to you, because what the fuck was that?"
"Freya hasn't touched my vagina if that's what you're trying to say. Plus, I thought we were past Freya."
"You know I'm literally trying to pretend that I'm okay with the fact that she kissed you. Wait… it's you who kissed her."
"Ayden, don't start that again," Ingrid told her, as he put on his trousers. "What are you doing?"
"I'm so tired of this. I mean we can't have sex now? Is that it?" He asked. "When did you ever not want to have sex with me?"
"I just told you I was not in the mood!"
"It's Freya. It has to be Freya."
"Ayden, please…" she said getting up from the bed. She went over and slid some pajamas over her naked body. When she was through, she looked at him, and he was covering his face with his palms yet again. Beneath there, she heard some soft whimpers.
"Ayden I love you…"
Snuff, snuff, snuff.
"I don't like seeing you like this… please talk to me." He came out of his hiding spot and she saw his eyes tear up. "Ayden I'm sorry."
"All I ever wanted was just for you to love me…"
"I do."
"You do?" He asked as he looked back at her. She nodded. He snuffed one more time and climbed Ingrid's bed once again. He had all his clothes on, except for the black jacket and socks. He rested his head on her headboard. The towel there made it so uncomfortable for him so he pushed it away to his left.
"Ever felt like saying goodbye?" He asked her, while she wore a warm sweater on top of her pajamas.
"What do you mean?" She asked softly.
"Have you ever felt like saying goodbye to someone you love or care about? Like your mother or brother?"
"Ayden what are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about."
"Is it what I think?" Her voice broke apart as she spoke. "Please Ayden don't do this."
"I cannot love you the way you want so I'm saying goodbye, Ingrid."
"Ayden don't do this. I love you I swear!"
"Take the pen and a paper on your desk. And write as if you were saying goodbye to someone you care about. Someone close to you."
"Ayden I'm not saying goodbye. I want you to stay."
"If you love me, you'll do as I say."
"Please don't make me do this." She bit her nails, her breathing intensifying.
"I don't deserve you so do it."
"Babe…" A tear rolled down her face as she looked at him, closing the distance one step at a time. She sat on the edge of the bed. "Ayden I love you. We can make this work…"
"Just write the damn letter, Ingrid. I want something that I can remember you with while I'm gone."
"Is this what you want?" She asked in a torn and heavy voice.
"It's what the best for both of us." He never made eye contact.
"Okay." She said and got up from the bed, sat on her desk, and pulled out a sheet of paper from one of the books. She took a pen and looked at him one last time. He was shaking, his eyes watery and red. Tear trails were on his cheeks and he wiped them away. She snuffed and turned to the paper. She wrote for over twenty minutes, as he watched from the bed.