Just Another Night
It’s just another December night. I see you sitting on the steps
outside the university library. I stop to watch you, the way your
gloved hands flicker over the pages, the way your lips curl in
concentration, the way you shake your head in a vain attempt to keep
your rebellious black hair out of your eyes. I’m late, but you haven’t
noticed. Your mind is still focused on the textbook lying open in your
lap.
The wind is merciless tonight. You should have waited inside. I can
see you shivering through your dark coat, and I doubt your thin pants
offer much protection against the harsh chill of the cement steps.
Still, I don’t want to interrupt you. Partly because I would hate to
bother you while you’re studying, and partly because I like to watch
you.
You never hide yourself from me. Who you are doesn’t change the instant
we step outside our home. It reassures me, to know that the girl I wake
up with every day is the same girl the rest of the world sees. It
comforts me, to know that the intensity and affection that I have the
privilege of experiencing isn’t an act you put on for me.
It wasn’t always like this. You used to look in my direction whenever
I tried to spy on you, however unobtrusive I tried to be. Now I feel
as though you don’t mind my attention anymore, that in fact, you crave
it as much as I crave yours.
I hold my breath as you turn the page, absently catching a wayward
strand of hair in your mouth. You don’t know how difficult it is for
me, to stand here and watch you go about your business obliviously
without saying anything. I want to go to you, to hold you, but I tell
myself that this is neither the time nor the place. In a short while,
we will be inside the warmth of our home, and we will be free to share
whatever we please.
As it turns out, it is not I that interrupts your diligence, but rather
another girl emerging from the library. She taps you on the shoulder
as she passes by, giving you a nod and a wave. You seem to know her,
probably from one of your classes. It warms me to see that you are
making friends, that you are trying to rebuild the life fate so
callously denied you.
You exchange pleasantries with her, even a small laugh as I approach,
before she catches sight of me. Then she looks knowingly at me and
runs off, disappearing into the night. You stand at the top of the
steps and smile down at me, chasing away hints of jealousy even I
didn’t know existed. I extend my hand, and my princess comes down the
stairs to take it. Somehow, your glove is gone, and when you grasp my
hand, it is skin to skin, your fingers icy against my palm. You greet
me as you take my hand, and the distinctive lilt of your voice makes me
shudder. You caress my name in a way no one else can. I smile as you
point out my tardiness, though I offer no explanation. You accept my
reticence without questioning further.
We walk wordlessly, but the silence is not tense. Instead, it is a
quiet comfortable sharing of each other’s company. It’s so peaceful
here, being with you. At the outset, I never would have imagined that
to be possible.
The campus is different at night. I’ve never had the chance to see it
for myself, but I understand your fascination now. It is strangely
calm, the daytime bustle gone, the buildings dark and ominous. Only
the library building is still fully lit, in preparation for upcoming
finals. I know you are concerned about your exams, but the thought
can’t seem to break my mood. It’s beautiful out here, the stars above
and the brisk wind at our backs. As if on cue, delicate snowflakes
make an appearance, drifting through the air to settle gently on the
ground. Within minutes, the city is covered with a soft white blanket.
You smile at me. It seems fitting, that the first snowfall of the
season would have you as a witness. I know it enthralls you, watching
the flurries dance in the sky. Whatever pleasure you derive from this
is genuine and pure. I brave the cold, if only to indulge you in your
obsession. I’m willing to walk home if you are. When I see you like
this, I find myself wishing I could make it snow year round, just for
you.
Eventually though, winter wins out, and you press against me, shivering.
With my free hand, I brush the snow off your shoulders and out of your
tousled hair. I have a cab flagged down before you even ask, and I am
delighted to see your eyes shining with fondness as we climb aboard.
I adore the way you smile without moving your mouth, even though I’m not
sure how you do it. I don’t know if its your facial muscles or your
eyes, but somehow, I can see your contentment. It pleases me, to know
that you are not unapproachable, that I can find my way past the walls
of impassiveness and detachment. It startles me, to find that I can
touch the heart beneath that air of invulnerability.
For I have watched you kill, beheld you in your moments of awesome
supremacy. And I have seen you defenseless, held you as you writhed
beneath my touch, cradled you in the aftermath of passion. It terrifies
me, this power I have over you, the ability to hurt you with a glance or
a word. And it scares me just as much, knowing you have the same power
over me.
All through the ride, I can feel the anticipation building. The driver
respects our silence, choosing not to engage us meaningless small talk.
I am grateful for his acuity. It wasn’t always like this, the furtive
glances, the feathery touches, the lingering gazes, but I prefer it this
way. I enjoy making you blush and look away. I long for the smoldering
look in your eyes. I caress your wrist as the car speeds off towards
home.
The air is charged when we disembark. Hastily, I pay the driver,
tipping him more than he deserves. We scramble into the building, race
up the stairs, fumble with the keys, and finally crash through the door
to our humble abode. Just as quickly, you slam the portal shut, push me
back against it, your coat and book bag already littering the floor.
Somehow we never find the time to turn on the lights, but I don’t mind.
You’re beautiful in the moonlight.
You press your lips against mine as my arms find their way around your
waist. There’s an urgency in you I’ve never felt before. Your need is
almost tangible. It excites me to think that I do this to you. I would
give anything to see your eyes roll back in heavenly bliss. You break
the kiss suddenly, moving up to whisper soft words in my ear. It
surprises me, how vocal you are when aroused. I don’t know which side
of you I prefer, this, or your usual reserved self. I admire both of
them.
Gently, you divest me of my winter garb, drag me deeper into the
apartment. I hope every night is just like this one. I follow you
because I know what’s waiting, but also simply because it’s you. I
would follow you anywhere, and I know you wouldn’t mind letting me lead
either. Our fates are entwined more than our lives will ever be. My
soul is connected to yours through more than just history. I can’t
describe what I feel for you, can’t explain it. I’m not even sure what
it is... But I think they call it love.
* * *
END
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