More seconds pass with our bodies intertwined, his arms still wrapped around me as I lean into him. He continues to rub my back, and the action somehow feels both platonic and sexual; like how a father would comfort his child, but also in the way a man would soothe his lover. I try not to think about the latter. I take it back. I try not to think of either. He’s not my father. And he’s definitely not my lover.
I let out a shuddery sigh as all the tension seeps out of my shoulders, making them slump so much that they don’t even support my neck and head anymore. My spine turns to putty and I involuntarily lean all of my weight on him, but it only makes him gather me in his arms further, holding me to him tighter. His hands feel so big with his long fingers splayed over my back, both protective and possessive as they rub to and fro, slowly going back and forth like windshield blades from my neck all the way down to my lower back and up again. I feel his muscles subtly flexing and contracting under his lab coat with each motion, his arms strong and powerful as they effortlessly wrap themselves around my significantly smaller body.