The Conversationists

"I love you".
"I know".
"Here we are".
"Yes".
"Yes, what?"
"I don't know".
"Do you love me?"
"You know I do".
"But you never say it".
"Yes, I do".
"When?"
"I've said it lots of times".
"I don't recall this".
"Ever happening?"
"Yes".
"I disagree".
"You would".
"I know".
"Kiss me".
"What will that prove?"
"That you want me still".
"How?"
"It just will".
"I love you".
"Show me".
"How?"
"That's up to you"
"Do you want me to kiss you?"
"If you like".
"Well...do you want me to or not?"
"Yes".
"Good".
"Kiss me".
"Okay".
"I shouldn't have to ask, you know".
"I know...but you just asked me to".
"But I really shouldn't. It should be as natural as breathing".
"It should".
"So that means you don't want to...unless I request it".
"No it doesn't".
"It's a hypothesis".
"Based on what?"
"Your body language, I suppose".
"You have your head resting on my chest".
"And?"
"Well..."
"Well what?"
"If I didn't want your head resting on my breasts then we wouldn't be lying together like this. Would we?"
"I suppose so".
"There's no suppose about it. You always use that word...it's bloody annoying".
"How so?"
"It's a little indecisive or evasive for a start. I suppose"
"I'll try and stop saying it then".
"You should be more definite in your sentences and speech".
"I know".
"You almost said it again...it's natural with you".
"I thought about it, yes".
"Yes, I know".
"It is hard”.
"It annoys me...like when you throw your socks on the floor and don't put them in the laundry".
"That's hardly the same thing".
"It is to me".
"That's irrational".
"So what?"
"You don't think there's a problem with being irrational?"
"I am not being irrational...I'm talking about bad habits. It doesn't matter what examples one gives".
"I suppose not".
"See".
"Are you going to kiss me or what?"
"Okay".

Heather looks down and moves her head slightly, kissing her lover, Richard, on the mouth. It is a dry kiss.

"Feel better now?"
"I su..."
"You almost said it again!”
"I know. Can't help it...it's deeply ingrained".
"We should get up soon".
"Yes. Have you any plans today?"
"Not really. I need to go to the library".
"To return some books?"
"Yes".
"What books?"
"Just books...this and that".
"Ah, 'This and That', one of my favourites. I think I read it at university".
"You're a hopeless comedian".
"I know".
"What are your plans for the day?"
"I've got to attend a seminar at three".
"That all?"
"Yes".
"Do you want to go out for dinner?"
"Tonight?"
"Yes"
"Perhaps".
"Yes or no?"
"Yes...no...yes".
"Which is it to be?"
"Yes".
"Okay".

Richard slides his hand across Heather's stomach and circles his index finger around her belly button.

"I think it's raining".
"It's always raining, Richard...we live in England".
"I can hear it hitting the roof".
"It could flood the world and I wouldn't care".
"Silly".
"I was being fatalistic".
"I read the Verlaine poem".
"Which one?"
"The one you recommended...Like City's Rain, My Heart".
"Ah, yes...good poem".
"The rain reminded me of it".
"I see the connection".
"The rain".
"Verlaine was a wonderful poet...eclipsed by the brat".
"The brat?"
"Rimbaud...the little fucker".

Heather looks down at Richard. She kisses him lightly on the forehead.

"Never read him".
"You should".
"Do you have any of his works?"
"Yes".
"Care to tell me the titles?"
"Les Illuminations and Une Saison d'Enfer".
"Do you have them at the flat?"
"Yes".
"Bring them for me".
"Of course".
"I am not in a hurry to read them, but I'd like to read them".
"Of course".
"Good".

Heather once more kisses Richard's forehead. It is a soft kiss, her mouth no longer dry...she drags her lower lip across slightly. Richard likes the feeling. He moves his head away from her chest and kisses her neck then they kisses fully on the mouth.

"Do you remember the first night we met?"
"Of course".
"What was I wearing?"
"An old suit...dark blue".
"Not exactly".
"What do you mean 'not exactly'?"
"Exactly that".
"Sometimes you make me wonder".
"Wonder about what?"
"Things".
"Things?"
"Yes".
"You're evading my question".
"No I'm not".
"Yes you are".
"Fine then...have it your way...as per usual".
"My way?"
"Yes".
"You can't remember what I was wearing, can you?"
"I remember a blue suit...it was old and tatty. Do you remember what I was wearing?"
"You wore a green cardigan with an art-nouveau patterned summer dress underneath with old blue plimsolls...quite a bizarre vision. Your hair was in a ponytail and you were holding a gin and tonic in your right hand...you were sat on a couch talking about Jean Baudrillard and how much you detest his works".
"You remember all that?"
"Yes".
"My memory suffers sometimes...how do I know you're not making this up?"

Heather reaches to the bedside table for her packet of cigarettes. Richard glances at a fat ugly fly on the ceiling. Heather lights a cigarette and deliberately blows the smoke into Richard's direction.

"Don't be so childish".
"You may have won the battle but not the war".
"So, do you remember or not?"
"I told you once already, a blue suit'".
"I wasn't wearing a blue suit".
"Well then, I cannot remember. You’re turning our first meeting into some divine act of providence...it was a party...anybody could have been there...we have mutual friends”.
"Wait a moment...I was wearing a blue suit".
"See!"

Richard looks into Heather's eyes and grins.

"You're not funny. I've told you that before...countless times".
"The look on your face was priceless. I know you like to be right...all the time".
"I do not! Now you’re just being sexist”.
“Come on”.
“Come on what? You accused me of wanting to be right all the time”.
“I was making a light joke”.
“It wasn’t funny in the slightest”.
“I’ve really upset you, haven’t I?”
“You’re a man...it’s natural”.
“I apologise most profusely”.
“I’m not listening”.
“Come off it”.
“You’ve hurt my feelings”.
“You have feelings?”
“You’re such a cunt sometimes”.
“I’m sorry”.
“Say that I don’t like being right all the time”.

Richard kiss her lightly on Heather’s right nipple. He sticks his tongue out and circles around it, once again lightly. Heather frowns, unwilling to relent on her position.

“Okay...you don’t like being right all the time. I should not have said such a thing. You’re beautiful”.
“Mere flattery...and false at that!”
“It’s not false”.
“And if you compare me to a Greek goddess, I’ll thump you”.
“I wasn’t going to”.
“I don’t like the word ‘beautiful’...and you’re an English professor...can’t you come up with something better?”
“I could, yes”.
“Well then?”
“Give me a moment to think, my darling”.
“My darling!”
“Yes”.
“Okay...I don’t mind that”.
“My radiant...”
“You can’t think of anything can you?
“...and exquisite lover”.
“Not bad”.
“So, I’m a radiant and exquisite lover”.
“Absolutely”.

Heather smiles. Richard raises his head, intent on kissing Heather. She sticks out her tongue in a comic fashion. Richard in return sticks his tongue out...their heads, close by. Richard licks the end of Heather’s tongue before they share a passionate kiss. Heather grips Richard’s lower lip and pulls it lightly...his free hand moves down towards her belly and lower...and lower...she murmurs slightly as Richard’s index finger enters her. The two lovers gasp between breaths...the saliva is flowing, dripping. Richard has inserted two fingers into Heather. His erection presses itself against Heather’s left leg. It is warm and tickles her...she reaches down to clasp it with her hand. She grips it tight, Richard frowns, Heather smiles.