The morning light slithered into my half open eyes – you were one of the people that found it rather amusing that I actually slept with my eyes semi-open. I shut them, rolled them around a couple of times then opened them to find the September 2009 Playmate glaring down at me with a wink and a sultry smile, as if to say “good on ya, girl!” I looked around.
My head hurt.
“Oh. No.” I sighed as I quickly pulled the covers over my head. I shuddered as your scent filled my cocoon of shame as I realized where I was. I foraged around the covers for my phone and found it under the pillow. Saturday, 9:49am. A couple of missed calls and texts regarding my whereabouts. I switched it off and threw it on the floor.
The TV was on in the next room. I figured you were there, so I writhed out of bed and grabbed a tshirt off the floor and tiptoed to the door. I opened it slightly and peeked through. You weren’t there. I headed for the bathroom, looking around for traces of last night. Nothing. I passed by the kitchen, poured a glass of water then made my way back to you room with a magazine I found in the bathroom. “how on earth did I end up here?” I didn’t remember calling you. Or you calling me and from the messages on my phone, I just disappeared?
I must have ended up sleeping again in that as gentle as you were trying to wake me up, the hangover just made it so much worse.
“huh?” I turned around and you stood over me grinning, hand behind you. The smell of coffee filled the room.
“I got this.” You held up a mug, “get up, I’m making brunch.”
“C-cool.” I straightened up, “got any painkillers?”
“Bathroom.” you kissed my cheek as you handed me the coffee. I sat up and took a couple of sips , located my garb and placed in neatly on your chair. I hurriedly showered and put on your shorts and that same t-shirt and offered to help you but you banished me to the couch. You had “When It Falls On”- the album you had so badly wanted me to hear, and I did. “Morning Song” came one and you told me about the parallels you found between it and Sylvia Plath’s poem of the same title. You explained, “it seems kind of like it could be a take on the poem- or at least parts of it and that the poem seems to be about motherhood and not being around forever… Plath kind of knew she was going to kill herself and not always be there for her kids, so ‘tomorrow seems…just an illusion’ “
I said that there comes a time when we take the idea of “another chance” for granted because we believe it in so much that we forget to embrace the instance when something amazing happens, but you laughed at me and said that I was just full of regret.
I laughed and stared at you wondering if we’d ever make it.
After brunch, I challenged you to Fifa 10 – like I knew what it was – and I only lost because I have poor hand-eye co-ordination and I didn’t have my glasses with me. You put in “The Village” and got a couple of beers from the fridge while I grabbed a blanket and we snuggled up with you behind me. You stroked my shoulder, I was antsy at first – you forgot I hate being touched – but I eased up a little. You asked if if I had seen the film before and I slyly responded with a “non” just to get you to hold me during the creepy parts, which you did.
It was warm under that blanket and that did not go too well with the arduous suspense that was stylistic of M Night because I soon felt you slide your hand gently from my left knee up my thigh. I took a deep breath and I think you felt me tense up. You rested your hand on my hip and tapped your fingers. I closed me eyes and felt the blood rush through me.
“I love you.”Your warm breath tickled my as you came closer. I shivered gently then effortlessly tilted my head to the left, exposing more of my neck to you. Your hand navigated from my hip, up my stomach then to my breast as you pressed your warm lips on my neck. My back arched as you traced an imagined pattern with your tongue along my neck. I could feel your heart beat faster, as did mine. I turned around and looked me dead straight in the eye. I consented to your pending actions by biting my bottom lip. You peeled my top off, pulled me closer, pressing my breasts against your naked chest. All the time our bodies undulating to a rhythm we could only feel. I tried to control my breathing as you nibbled on my ear. I pulled your face towards mine and I remembered what you had just whispered. I smiled and stroked your hair before parting your lips with mine…
We’d done this before – without the three words.
“Is that the time?” I jumped up pointing at the clock.
“What’s wrong?” You scratched your head.
“Crap! I have to go.”
“I forgot I had to meet whatsherface in like 20 minutes.”
“Work? It’s Saturday. Can’t you reschedule?” You stood at the bedroom door and watched me dress.
“Yeah, no. Sort of… Look, I’ll call you.” and I didn’t. Although, I did message you later that day hoping for a “let’s pick up where we left off.” and you didn’t reply.