To say I saw her with new eyes would be terribly cliche but more accurate than can be understood. The kiss was the beginning. Although every weekend we were intimate, we weren’t intimate. We would talk for hours circling topics ,careful not to disturb any unforeseen pitfalls. We would discuss anything and everything, even over drinks we kept a respectful distance. Sometimes we would get close, she would catch a glimmer in my eye or she would watch a dangerous thought slip through my lashes, her lips would part but then we would stare. I could feel her peering into me and when I couldn’t take it anymore I would pick her up and throw her on the bed.
But the kiss was different, she was different than I thought she was. We were mirror images,recognizing ourselves and noticing the less favorable angles.
Her kiss tasted like desperation more than lust. She kept pulling me forward with her eyes closed, willing me towards her. I obliged.
She laid on her back in gray sheets and stared at ceiling, her hands laying palm down at her sides. Absolutely still aside from a tears beginning to dwell first at her lower lids then covering the surface of her eyes. She resisted to blink so there would be no tears. Then she noticed me.
“Don’t you mean thank you?” I followed with a wide smile
She snorted. light contempt was a good sign.
“You know thats not why I came here.”
“I thought you finally learned your manners.”
She turned towards me, her lip curling upwards like a feral dog with steel teeth. she sat up to get the proper vehemence out of her lungs, “I’m just using you. You know I am. Do you need me to spell it out for you? Would that help you? Would that help you to not say the wrong thing for thirty seconds?” She stared at me but I knew her rhetoric tone. Her snarl faded and new muscles took over and she tensed. She pulled her knees to her chest and laid her head against them. Her mouth opened and I heard the gentle wisps before a whisper, “I didn’t want him to be the last one inside me.”
I didn’t know what emotion I was after hearing this but I knew I felt stupid. I wanted to hug her but the moments between her last word and my reaction left it feeling awkward and disjointed. I tried to make eye contact in hope of forwarding my confusing thoughts through my eyes but she wasn’t looking at me, she was looking out my window. The wild grass pushed horizontal due to the winds of a storm.
“I get it. It’s all good. Let’s go for a walk before it’s too muddy to get back.”
She didn’t respond but got out of bed slipped on her clothes and grabbed her jacket. I noticed then that she had cut her hair. It was above her shoulders the longest strands resting on her collar bones, there was a slight curl that had not been pressed flat from laying down. She took the lead through the green. It was raining now and she pushed through the foliage sending water droplets into the air behind her. I had not walked our trails since the last day she was here and the path had forgotten us and replaced our presence with budding saplings.
I kept waiting for her to look at me, to turn her head slightly over her shoulder so I could catch a glimpse of the pinks in her lips as they formed a slight smile; but she only looked forward. Leaving me with scent of her perfume that smelled of sage and honeysuckles. She was walking more delibrately than usual. Instead of her light gait she walked heavily, walking through the blackberry bushes, ripping the thorns out of the stems as they hugged her coat.
The rain had arrived early and was in the middle of a heavy down poor when she stopped mid stride. She stood still with her weight distributed between one leg planted firmly and the other on pointed toe. She turned her head eyes wide and lifted her eyebrows high as she prompted me to follow her gaze. She was looking up. It was a rare part in the path where you could see the sky. The rain was a complete downpour the droplets were now coin sized drops that left pools on my face. Despite my closed eyes I knew what she saw when I heard the thunder.
Normal people would go back. Anyone who knew anything about general safety it was not to be around large trees in a thunderstorm. But she was not anyone. Thunderstorms were rare up here. Something about high and low pressure, I didn’t even ask her if she wanted to continue. I heard her exhale. I caught up to her and reached for her hand. For a second I thought she would recoil and refuse my touch but she greeted me halfway, holding my hand a little to tightly, each finger bringing forth its own tension. The path was narrow so she took the lead. Her pace slowed to suit her anchor and the tension eased. The static back to stasis. With her free hand she lifted the leaves upwards and with my free hand I pulled a blackberry free.
I offered it to her but she shook her head and put her hand against mine I brought it too my mouth and was greeted with tart sourness that made my eyes water and a sweet aftertaste that left me wanting more.