one day, when there isn't much time left...

March 2083 (mini-update) - Dallas Deppiesse is 18, Lucy Harris is 16.

One day, when there isn't much time left, Dallas and Lucy have a study date. The house is empty and quiet, but he locks the door anyway. He puts on some music, softly, her favorites. He figures they should have music. It seems like something people would do for this occasion, though they don't normally play music when they're together. He prefers to hear her sounds instead.

Study is just the right word for this, because as familiar as they are with each other, some things are still uncharted territory.

She is ready now, because she has to be. Of course, she doesn't have to be. She could choose not to be ready. She has that choice. But what would that mean? That it would happen some other way, with other people, because they were apart and lonely, drunk at some college party, or lost in so many new people? Two years apart is such a long time. Lucy might be naive sometimes, but even she knows that two years is near forever in the life of a young relationship.

But she finds that becoming a grown-up is about making hard decisions. She knows that she doesn't want this to happen any other way, or with anyone but him. And she thought they had as much time as they wanted to wait, but as it turns out, they don't.

"You're nervous," she says, teasing him.

"No, I'm not," he says, and he's blatantly lying. She can feel his clammy hands on her skin. And he actually just kissed her teeth. He was the prepared one. He was the one all ready and eager to go. It makes her feel better that he's nervous, it makes her feel calm.

They go slow, they kiss a little first, he pays attention to all the places she likes best. He remembers one cringe-worthy conversation with his father, who told him, "Dallas, women are like ovens, not microwaves." Horrible as that was, he was actually listening.

It's fumbling rather than romantic. She wasn't expecting it to be romantic, Summer told her it wouldn't be. But she finds it does have its own special beauty, which maybe no one but the two of them could share.

It isn't exactly painful like she'd expected, but a little uncomfortable. Even if she's well acquainted with every part of him, she's still surprised to find that things feel much bigger than she imagined they would.

"Are you okay?" he asks. She nods, because it is okay at the same time as uncomfortable. It's almost nice even.

He leans down to her ear and says, "I love you."

"I know," she says. "I love you too."

But it doesn't last long, as nice and uncomfortable as it is. Maybe there is a reason first times are meant to be so short?

He falls back onto the pillow next to her, grinning and embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he says. "It's not usually so fast."

"It's okay," she says. "I know."

"Were you okay? I would have stopped. I'm sorry, we'll get better at it."

"You can stop apologizing," she says.

He takes a deep breath and sighs.

She asks, "How many times do you think it takes, to get better?"

"I don't know," he says. He flashes her a cheesy smile. "You want to try again?"

She laughs. "Maybe later," she says.

But she stops smiling then.

Five months. In less than five months he'll be gone. It keeps coming back to this, and everything about him leaving feels so unnatural.

She says, "What if there isn't enough time to get better?"

"There will be," he says. He wraps her up in his arms. He holds on a little tighter, for as long as he still can.

*******

notes: I had them set to independent teens for barely a second and this is what they had to tell me...

Those crazy love-sick hormones! You see, it's my Sims with their heads in the gutter lately, not me! LOL!

Then there was also this. She had one too. *whimsical sighs* :)