S2/04. Old habits die hard

4.8 Diana Foster
Summer 1998, Diana's apartment, San Myshuno

Shit, shit, shit.

What the fuck was she thinking?

It was probably the lack of sleep, which let it all get under her skin and hindered her ability to think reasonably. 

She'd done a few too many night shifts, probably, while also having to deal with Martin's crap.

As if that wasn't enough, Naiah came and threw her off.

Kissing a girl?
That wasn't for Diana!

Still, she couldn't help being pulled back over and over again to the thought of Naiah's sad eyes when she'd confessed her broken heart. Her full, glossy lips... how would it feel to kiss them? Like Naiah's skin, oftentimes brushed against Diana's, soft and warm? – 

No.

Diana wanted a boyfriend!

Fall in love!

But far and wide, there was no one around who might be at least an option – 

No, not Ben either, even though she'd found the idea so great when she was high yesterday.

But on second thought?

It was probably not great at all.

He was a big flirt, and whatever he'd said about waiting for true love, blah blah blah, Diana couldn't believe for a second that he didn't hop from one bed to another occasionally.

He was too good-looking, too charming, and women liked him, way too much.

That he played hard to get encouraged the likes of Chloé and Yasmin even more.

Most likely he was just very discreet about it.

He was a man, after all!

She didn't care as long as he was single, but she was more than convinced that he wouldn't stop just because he had a girlfriend. She'd seen it too often already, and that was something she couldn't live with.

No, she wouldn't like that at all.

But he was nice. The nicest a man ever had been to her. 

Whatever, he wasn't interested, and neither was she.

Or was she?

Was he?

The more she tried to figure him out, the more he seemed to escape her. He was friendly, but also as uncommitting as always. And then, since yesterday, he seemed somehow... off.

She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it was hard to miss.

Today morning, when he and Jack waited with her for the bus before starting their own shift, it was Jack who talked more. Not that he was a quiet guy, but he had nothing on Ben.

What if Ben got tired of her?

Had she strained his kindness to protect her from Martin too far?

Her heart ached at the thought, but she was also too scared to ask him.

As she made her way home, her thoughts swirling and shifting between worrying about Ben and repressing Naiah, there he suddenly was.

He bumped right into her, at the foot of the stairs. 

She hadn't seen him in their building before.

He wasn't what one would call conventionally attractive, but there was something about him.

A timid smile that might not be so timid, a slightly raspy voice that was a tad too quiet – 

A minute later, they were up in her apartment.

She on the kitchen counter, he inside her, and both her brains and panties off.

It was unexpectedly rough, and hard, and just so –

So – good.

Being desired without reservations, making a man come with her body, just feeling attractive, like a woman again –

Feelings that she hadn't felt in ages, or perhaps had never truly experienced – at least not like this.

Until it was over, and he left.

Very, very awkwardly.

She didn't even get his name.

What the fuck happened?

What the fuck was she thinking?

She wasn't like that!

At least not anymore; she was a mother, she had to behave responsibly!

Once she'd cried her heart out, she wiped her nose. She had to clean herself, put her panties back on and get a plan B.
And then go to sleep, until she had to pick up her daughter from day-care.

And then run the daily treadmill, just as every other day.