The morning sun filtered through the tulle curtains of the new Karyn’s bedroom, gently rousing the two lovers. But with a squeeze of Karyn’s arm around Jon’s chest, he sank back down into her before he could even begin to stir. They lay that way, awake but motionless, as the shaft of light slowly drifted across their gently-breathing forms and Karyn held her arm around Jon’s chest, keeping him close to her.
It was around 9:30 when a buzzing sound emitted from the crumpled pair of pants on the floor.
“Ugh, Jon, could you–”
But Jon was already moving, as though acting on an unspoken command. Karyn released him and he rolled over to reach for the phone in his pocket.
“A message from Amber,” Jon said. “She’s hosting brunch at her place. Thirty minutes, everyone’s invited.”
“Everyone?” a sly smile crept its way onto Karyn’s lips.
“Well, all the important people, anyway.”
Neither Jon nor Karyn questioned why Amber had Jon’s phone number. Indeed, all of the cheerleaders and all of the football players were in his address book now. And of course they were. Hadn’t they always been there? Just like reality seemed to re-write itself when Karyn turned into the version of herself that was Sarah’s best friend, reality had now re-written itself for a Jon that was specifically this version of Karyn’s boyfriend.
“I’ll go take a shower and get ready,” Jon stood up from the bed.
“No.” Jon froze at the sound of Karyn’s voice. Not out of fear, out of obedience. Karyn’s will was simply his world.
“We still smell like sex,” he said. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a challenge. He was just pointing out a truth.
“I know,” Karyn smiled. “And I want everyone else to know, too.”
Then she flounced out of the room in her negligee and made her way to the bathroom, where she wiped off the more visible signs of her actions the previous night, fluffed her hair a bit, but left herself otherwise au naturel.
By the time Karyn returned to her room, Jon was fully dressed in the pants and blue turtleneck that Sarah had bought for him the day before. And Karyn pulled off her black lace negligee, replacing it with the sheer sundress that was draped over her white leather computer chair.
She didn’t bother to put on any panties. But she slipped on a pair of sandals, and strutted out the door, Jon following like a puppy on a leash.
The moment Jon crossed the threshold out of Karyn’s room and into the hallway, a wind passed over him. He didn’t feel it, he didn’t sense anything was different. And from an outward sense, nothing was.
He was still an over-muscled version of his former self. He was still fully healed from his wounds, as though they had never happened. He still had the same loutish expression plastered on his face, a confident smirk topping it all. He was still exactly the version of Jon that Karyn’s subconscious had needed, had desired, had molded him into.
But, outside of her bedroom he no longer belonged to her. It was a subtle distinction, but one which would become more important the longer he remained outside of Karyn’s bedroom.
