The bar was crowded.
But the chatter and general din didn’t distract him from
her.
She was telling him about a trip to Europe she planned to
take in the not too distant future.
“You should come with me,” she told him.
“Europe?! They eat people like me alive over there.”
“Oh bullshit…” she answered back.
The walk home wasn’t too drunk, more of a slow amble than a
stumble, playing with any random thing they could find along the way.
She found a scrap of wood on the ground and told him, “here
this is for you.”
He looked at it under the light of a nearby streetlamp,
examining the brown swirls and small knots in the 1x3 chunk of wood.
He put it in the left pocket of his green woolen shirt and
said “groovy.”
They were sitting in her living room, he had weaseled his
way inside somehow using some horseshit excuse such as he needed to use the
bathroom or wanted a glass of water, but there was no ill intent behind it.
He had found himself on her couch gazing at her records,
thumbing through things like Simon and Garfunkel, Pink Floyd and other oldies.
“You have some really good ones here,” he told her.
She was sitting next to him on the couch and looked at him
with a little smirk and said, “I know. Why don’t you pick something to put on?”
He had seen a Led Zeppelin record earlier and found it
again.
He pulled it from its sleeve and put it on the platter.
He moved the arm over the record and when nothing happened
she said, “hold on, it’s touchy.”
She moved from the couch towards the record player and
stumbled a bit, but he managed to get a hand out for her to grab before she
could fall.
He hid the smile that came to his face because he didn’t
want her to be embarrassed, and let her continue.
She put the album on, and while it was still hissing and
popping she flicked the lights off.
A very soft, romantic glow filled the room, its source being
a single strand of white lights strung up above the couch.
They talked more and got comfortable.
Both slumped a little on the couch, sitting close to one
another.
They talked more about what was going on in their lives and
eventually she put her head on his shoulder.
A twinge of anxious excitement shot through him, but he
managed to keep it all contained within himself, his demeanor still calm.
The music still played in the background and he finally got
the gumption to reach for her hand.
Their fingers locked and they both smiled a little bit.
He leaned towards her to give her a kiss and she nervously
buried her face into his shoulder and giggled.
He wasn’t upset by this and instead turned his attention to
her hand that he was holding. He brought it close to his eyes and began to
examine the wrinkles in her knuckles, the cuticles where her nails met her
fingers, the lines in her palms.
He grabbed the other and proceeded to do the same.
Running his fingers through any line or ridge he could find
on them.
Her hands were the absolute most beautiful things he could
think of at that point in time.
He then turned his head so that he could look into her eyes,
as she had finally brought her head up from his shoulder.
“You’re sweet,” she told him.
“No,” he answered, “your hands are just really lovely. More
like artwork, really.”
She smiled again and he tried to kiss her once more, moving
his lips to hers.
Another shot of electricity ran through him when they
touched.
Soft kisses at first, but they grew stronger as they began
to wrap their arms around each other.
Eventually the album was over and he had begun to doze off
with his head now on her shoulder.
“I think it’s time to go to bed,” she told him.
“Oh I’ll get going then,” he said back.
“You don’t have to go.”
“Okay, well I can crash out here on the couch, the little
lights out here are so nice and all.”
She smiled at him and laughed and pointed towards a doorway,
“You’re fine, come sleep in there with me.”
He sat on the edge of the bed taking off his shoes, hoping
she wouldn’t smell his feet.
Both of them were too tired and drunk to really take off
their clothes so they lay spooning fully clothed.
He lightly walked his fingers up and down her shoulders.
He would take deep breathes because the smell of her hair
was just a little intoxicating.
Sweet and rich.
Finally he wrapped his arms around her and just let sleep
come.
Before he even left her doorstep he considered why he didn’t
get her number or something.
He had simply said,
“I have no idea when
I’ll see you again…but if you’re ever my way, get in touch with me.”
How fucking stupid
did you sound? he thought to himself.
But his defense was that he didn’t want to ruin one of the
best moments he’d had in a long while; even if it meant possibly creating
something new with her.
Hugging her goodbye had been the icing on the cake for him.
And he wondered about how he could have had such an incredible evening, however
short it had been, with someone as beautiful and sweet as her, but was still
willing to let it fizzle before it could start.
With a walk ahead of him and the sun already toasting his
shoulders he considered his options.
It was just a few hours spent laying in a bed with someone right?
He was just going to let the moment fade.
And not to let it haunt him too much the next few days.
