The Ward

I stand in line for my cup of pills and head back to the living quarters for lights out. My new roommate Fatima is sitting cross-legged on her bed, staring out the tiny window. She's been crying.

"Hey there," I said. "Have you been in here all day?"

She doesn't look at me.

"I'm not really interested in pudding cups and board games and pretending like everything's normal."

"Yeah, I get that." I change into my flimsy hospital-issued nightgown. "But you shouldn't isolate. It'll make things worse."

Fatima repositions herself so she's looking at me. Her eyes are red.

"I'm so sorry. I don't even remember your name."

"It's cool, I'm sure you've had a long day. I'm Brynn."

"Brynn. Sorry. I'm Fatima."

"Stop apologizing! It's really okay. I'm not offended."

"I can't believe I'm here. This is a nightmare."

"It's really not as bad as you think." I fluff my pillow and lie down. "You seem reasonably put together, you'll be out soon. They need bed space for the real crazies."

Fatima jangles her bandaged wrists at me.

"I am one of the real crazies."

"Honey, you have no idea. All you have to do is avoid the suicide talk and you'll be out by Monday."

Nurse Frances knocks on the open door and pops her head in.

"Bedtime, ladies."

"Thank you." I wave at her from bed. "Goodnight."

She flips the switch and shuts the door. Fatima starts crying again in the darkness.

"Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?"

"No."

"Do you want a hug?"

She's silent for a moment.

"Yes."

"Hang on, I'm coming over."

I sit down on the bed and envelop her a big bear hug. She collapses into my arms, sobbing. I slowly rock her back and forth.

"It's okay, get it all out. That's excess stress coming out of your eyes."

Fatima lets out a choked laugh.

"Ew."

"It's true! Emotional tears have higher levels of cortisol and other stress hormones. Keeping it in is bad for you."

She laughs, a real laugh this time.

"Thank you," she says.

"For what?"

"Distracting me."

"Glad I could help." I rub her back. "And I'm glad you're feeling better."

"I am."

We drop our arms. Fatima softly kisses me. Her lips are shy and tentative. I pull away abruptly.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

She bites her lip and slowly nods.

"I do."

Fatima removes her hijab, and her thick, wavy locks cascade down her shoulders.

"You have gorgeous hair."

"Sometimes I want to show it off." She looks down. "I feel bad just saying that."

"I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with wanting things. It's what you do that matters."

I touch her face. We kiss again. I taste the salt on her skin. She puts her hand on my breast. I take her in my arms.

We crawl under the blankets and cuddle up together. Our bodies move as one, our legs twisted and intertwined. I brush back her soft hair. We hold each other like we're the last people on Earth.

"This is nice," I whisper.

"Mmmm."

We look deep into each other's eyes. It's almost unbearably intimate. We lace our fingers together. I kiss her bottom lip. I kiss the top. I slip my tongue inside.

We undress and tenderly explore each other's bodies. I lay her down. Her nipples are tight and hard. I stroke her cheek.

"I want to make you feel good."

I prop myself up on my elbow so I can watch her face.

"Close your eyes," I whisper. "Pretend you're someplace better."

She closes her eyes. Her feathery lashes cast shadows on her face in the moonlight.

I lightly tease her outer labia with my fingertips, then I move inside. Heat radiates off of her. I watch her chest move up and down. Her face is open. Vulnerable.

I tap tap tap her vagina with stiff, locked fingers. She's slick with anticipation. She touches her mouth. She touches her breasts. She lifts her head to kiss me but I'm just out of reach.

"Shhh," I say. "The staff will hear."

I stimulate her clitoris until it's too much, and Fatima puts a pillow over her face to muffle her cries. I move my hand faster and faster until her body is racked with pleasure.

We spoon together on one pillow after she climaxes. I kiss her bare shoulder and hold her tight. She caresses my arms. Our curves fit together perfectly.

"Tomorrow will be better," I murmur. "I promise."