Her
“Here we are.” I say, followed only by the silenced snore of my passenger. Him. I chuckle quietly. Then reality hits me. How did I get here? I wonder what pushed me to do such an impulsive move. Better yet, what the hell was I thinking? Maybe is the thought of not seeing him after tonight. Never again.
I help him out of the car. He places his strong arms around my neck. I swoon. Not because of his weight. Which is weird, it should bother me. But because I stare directly at his beautiful features. Very closely. I kind of like being able to look at him like this, without feeling guilty. Without blame.
The walk toward his house is unhurried. I don’t complain. I grasp carefully every second that I share his air. My thoughts drift away. Far away with him, in a place where we both could be happy. Together. I hope we were.
I wake from my daydream at the sight of the door. “Please, tell me you have the keys.” I whisper mostly to myself. But I shake him a little. It seems that alcohol did a big number on him tonight. He appears to react a little and I lay him on the door. “Keys?” I ask him, staring directly into his semi-opened eyes. Oh those beautiful green eyes.
After a long pause, he says: “In my pocket jacket.” I proceed to search. My hands wander the outside of his jacket with no luck. He seems kind of confused. But he leans closer. My first guess is that he wants to help me on my task, so I too step closer.
I continue to check the inside pockets as well. Taking in his scent. A mixture of tequila, baby powder and ocean mist. It is enthralling. His body is firm yet soft to the touch. His chest is wide, smooth and shapely. Oh God, what am I thinking?
I lose track of what I am doing. For a moment, I close my eyes. Reality feels more like a dream than I care to think. I am drawn to him. Unexpectedly. Completely. “Stop!” My brain yells at once. I find the keys. I open my eyes in a flash. He closes his again.
Once inside I notice that nobody is home. Except for us, now. Nobody else. The living room is huge and tastefully arranged. A gamma of terracotta colors adorns the walls. A white sofa and coordinated ottoman are the main pieces of the stage. Complemented by a glass monogamy table. Very beautiful.
I keep looking for a more comfortable place to put him down to rest. White upholstery is not a very good friend of hangover proceedings. I know this by personal experience. I find another room. A study? A contrasted coziness to the rest of the house. At least to what I have seen so far.
“Let’s put you here.” I say. And he plops down the couch. Almost instantly, he adjusts himself into it. I need a puff of fresh air. Tumbling across the hall I see the bathroom. I enter. A splash of cold water on my face brings me to life once again. A chill.
I feel as is something is out of place. Not at all what I expected. Only one toothbrush? There must me more to him than what I know. I bet he has secrets too. This could be a night of discoveries. I think.
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