I stand awkwardly in the tiny living room as the man puts Genesis to bed, ready for the word that I should sleep here on the cement floor or that I need to leave before I bring any attention to their home.

"You can come in if you want to, to the other room." He says as he stands in the hallway. "You don’t have to stay alone." 

Good, because with the tiniest amount of hope I had already decided that I wanted to stay the night with you. 

I walk into the man's bare room. 

A closet with the same tan tunics. A second pair of boots. A candle by the bedside. That's it.

I crawl into his bed and I instantly feel the warmth from his body. 

Is this what it is like to sleep with someone else? I've forgotten. What if all he is offering is a bed? Am I thinking too much into this?

"Goodnight." I turn my body on my side with a small sigh. 

"Goodnight." He blows out the candle and sleeps against my back.

For several minutes, I listen to his breathing. Even. Slow. And I am wide awake. 

He whispers into my back. “Turn around.”

I do. And I see his eyes half closed reach for my face. He cups my face with his calloused hands. The bottom of the palm of his hand rests against my chin. And I feel his fingers rub up and down against my cheek.

He runs his thumb on the bottom of my lip. And his hand continues to the back of my head.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes."

His hand stays at the back of my head as he takes a moment to look at me. Then he kisses me with the most deliberately slow movement I've ever experienced. 

I finally get the courage to put my hands around his neck and make sure he is real.

Words would be too much for this moment.

All of this is too much. Too much touch. Without the pretense that I am a whore, or a model, or some other sort of consumable. I am just a person that wants and needs touch. I’ve been touched many times in the past few years. But not with tenderness. With the desire to own me. To fuck me, not to sleep with me. 

That night I sleep in a bed with someone else. The first time since before the war. Tonight, I gave myself to him because I wanted to.

My body aches after we've finished. I selfishly want more of this. More than I deserve. 

Quietly, I give him a name only I will know. Soma.

-----

The next morning I wake up with dawn and prepare to leave. I look out through the window into the barren streets and see a matted gray cat following an elderly woman. 

A pet again? I guess things have changed if poor people aren't eating cats anymore. 

"Why have you decided to leave?" Soma asks as he gently reaches out to my head like if he was approaching a stray animal.

I immediately move away from his hands. 

If he touches me again, I probably won't have the courage to leave.

"I don’t feel right staying here. I don’t know if I can be still or if I can be happy."

Haphazardly, I add in. "I'm not even sure if I will bring you danger. Maybe I'm being chased. A soldier in your home isn't a good idea."

"Soldiers are not outcasts here. Everyone would understand. Do you want to try? Do you want to just give it a shot? Be someone else."

"No, I don't deserve this."

I had been someone else before. I had tried to forget who I was but the sadness didn’t leave. It was still there. And years hiding it didn’t heal it. If anything, it had become an infection. Beginning in the small cuts in my hands. Spreading into my heart and my head.

This life would only be a temporary drug. Having a normal life is just pretend now.