Circus

Pan sits on the floor with outstretched legs; his back to the bathroom door. Staring drunkenly at Dee as she strategically, almost perfectly, places herself onto his lap. She takes the shadow off his face that cast over him while they were talking about someone he didn’t really want to discuss. Her finger drags in the opposite direction of the stubble growing on his chin, leaving fingerprints on his nose, his cheek, and his half-closed eyes before dragging it back to his lips where she gives him a tongue-less, over-whelming kiss. Pan sighs in humble disbelief.