Intimacy
By freda
- 542 reads
We smoked a joint and it was supposed to be relaxing but I kept
thinking you knew what I was thinking, then I didn't know what to think
for the best. So feeling spontaneous I gave you the television
controller. I figured that you being so obviously in control would make
the air calmer.
It took me a long time to pass it over leaning from my chair to yours,
instead of standing up which would have been less clumsy. I thought for
a moment our hands were going to cleave together and this worried me.
Finally when I had my hand back I placed it in the other one and tried
to work out which hand felt the most like mine. I decided it was the
hand which had passed the controller, and felt reassured to have it
back again. You know those Russian dolls which fit inside each other? I
felt as if my hands both had faces like that. The right hand was
slightly larger and its smile was more traditional. The little warm
hand inside grinned.
In my heart of hearts I really wanted to turn facing you and gaze
objectively, just as if you were an image on the screen. I don't know
how long this would have taken. Even before we met, when you were
someone passing in a crowd I used to wonder who you reminded me of. Now
we had become acquainted I was still left with this familiar but
stimulating feeling. I tried not to think of it now in case you
returned to being a stranger once more. I had really longed to sleep
with you and be on speaking terms.
Realising I was thinking this I blushed. I had come so close to
thinking aloud that my body was in a state of shock. I wanted to know
if you could see me so I pretended to be watching something on the
wall. There was in fact a spider moving ever so slowly a few inches
above the light switch. I knew if I followed it the redness would
go.
Looking across I was vividly aware of your eye movements. The whites
showed up a lot. I liked your hair and knew we would both get an
electric shock if I touched it. Or was that conceited of me? You began
to smile at something on the TV and your eyes got caught up in
wrinkles, it was a temporary relief. But when they opened again I saw
they were fixed intently on me. You were taking me in. And you held
open your arms in an inviting gesture. My blush had drawn into a tight
skin pain now, so that I could easily imagine the relief of a sudden
nosebleed.
"Come on relax, sit here and relax" You motioned to your lap.
"I hate spiders" I said "Don't you?"
"Hmm?" you followed my line of sight.
"Look" I found myself standing up and walking over to the spider.
Something excruciating happened with my skirt ; the bit covering my
stomach which had been creased up from sitting down slowly smoothed
out. It was OK again by the time I got to you. I think. I came really
close to your chair but you didn't repeat the invitation. I was not
sure then, I thought I had made it all up.
I laughed. There wasn't a spider, just a felt tip mark on the wall. Not
anything worth commenting about.
"Coffee, that's what I was going to do. Coffee?"
Your shrug caused something to fall away into the night.
The kitchen looked like a cell, the way I'd tidied it earlier and
hidden all traces of my day, my life. I could come back with the coffee
and just plonk myself down on your chair arm. I had a few minutes to
decide as the kettle boiled. I could pretend I was very very stoned and
relaxed and do that.
"I'm not really bothered about the coffee" you said. It felt as if you
were going to leave soon. I seemed to be melting.
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