sábado, 8 de julho de 2017

Contradictions (Part 1 of 2)



- Are you awake?

- Mmm… no… not really, no…

He chuckled.

- That smile tells me you are…

I was awake, of course, but kept my eyes shut while enjoying the way he was touching my skin with that very light touch. I had woken up when he kissed my shoulders and neck so softly it was like the brush of feathers on my skin. Maybe he was afraid of waking me up… Maybe he was just enjoying himself… Maybe he was taking advantage of the situation… Maybe I was too…

I turned around a bit and faced him, smiling and welcoming his tender caresses. I held his hand in mine and kissed his precious fingers.

- Good morning, early bird.

- Good morning, sleepy head.

He propped his head up, looking at me with a sweet smile and genuine loving eyes. I thought to myself: ‘what a lovely way to wake up’.

He encircled my body with his arms and held me closer to his chest, with his legs entwined around mine. I laid my head on his soft golden fur and closed my eyes, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat drumming softly in my ears. He kissed the top of my head and whispered.

- I love you…

I just moaned softly and nestled myself a bit more in his embrace, almost purring like a happy cat in a cosy and fluffy bed. I did not feel like opening my eyes again… Then I fell asleep.

When I woke up he was not around. I heard the sound of dishware and cutlery in the kitchen and I thought to myself he must have waited too long for me to wake up and decided to have something to eat on his own. The smell of coffee and something else was inviting.

I was afraid I was taking the kindness of that man for granted, so I got up and headed to where he was.

He was standing tall and handsome with a cup of strong coffee in his hand. Although we were not used to fancy breakfasting, he was busy with an omelette that smelled so good, my stomach immediately reacted to it. That would certainly suit for a lazy Saturday morning.

- Hey…

- Good morning again, sweet wheat field. What are you cooking?

He smiled at me. I used to call him ‘wheat field’ because of the colour of his hair and fur. He used to laugh at that, satisfied with the nick I gave him. He looked me in the eyes and lied without blushing.

- I’m cooking nothing special. Let’s sit and eat. I’m terribly hungry…

So was I. Still looking at him, I obeyed, while he poured the hot coffee in my cup and served me a portion of that perfect tomato, cheese and mushroom omelette. The taste was simply divine and reminded me of a point of time somewhere in my past.

***

It was late on a lazy Sunday morning and I was having a brunch on my own, at a Café downtown. I have always loved the smell of strong black coffee and that one was really good. I was starving, so I decided for the platter of the day, so I could have my meal delivered quicker. The taste of that Menu Special omelette was filling me in with a peculiar pleasure.

From where I was I could see the clientele crossing the front door and being directed to their tables by the serving staff. I was sitting by the window, watching people walking by and trying not to stare at anyone. 

A man, who was probably in his mid-forties, came across the door and looked around, trying to find an empty table. What called my attention was the colour of his amazing shiny blond hair and his walking posture. Taller than me, strong and handsome, that man was like a warrior coming victorious from a battle in the highlands. I felt like the place was emptied immediately and all the lights disappeared in front of my eyes, except for the one on top of his head.

As the waiter walked him in, I felt strangely interested. In my mind, I could hear a voice saying non-stop and naughtily:

‘Please sit close to me… please’…

And he did. For some reason, he chose a table very close to mine and sat right opposite to me. He checked the menu and ordered his meal very quickly.

That was a good sign. He seemed to be a man who knew very well what he wanted and he was quick to make decisions. I wondered if he would do that to all other things in his life.

While waiting, he naturally looked around, showing just a general little interest in the other customers sitting in the same room, chatting quietly and having their meals. Then he laid those lovely bright blue eyes on me.

Amazingly, the effect was absolutely unexpected. I blushed immediately and turned my attention back to my plate and cup, trying to look natural and at ease. My hands trembled however and the knife fell off to the ground with a loud noise. I am really clumsy when nervous, so I urged to pick the knife up and call the waiter to provide me with a clean one. He was already on his way, probably used to help with that kind of things many times a day. I struggled not to look at the table right in front of mine, but my eyes betrayed me.  He was looking at me again. Our eyes interlocked. My face and ears were burning like pieces of ignited coals. I tried to avoid his stare but could not.

Then he smiled and whispered a clear and distinctive ‘hi’, although no sound could be heard from where I was.

‘My goodness, what was that? This is amazingly scary. I was not expecting to feel butterflies in my stomach!’

I smiled back at him but I must have looked so awkwardly out of place that he giggled. I blushed again and felt like steaming from inside out.

I was conveniently saved by the waiter bringing the meal and placing it loudly in front of him. His attention suddenly moved to a cup of black coffee and the platter of the day: the special tomato, cheese and mushroom omelette.

I couldn’t help but laugh…

***

- Do you still remember?

- How could I ever forget? You mesmerized me…

He giggled. I simply loved the way he seemed to relax completely and look so juvenile when he laughed. He used to tease me with his lovely light blue eyes and that open grin, before anything else. I wondered how a man could be so sexy without being openly sexual or indecently mischievous. He was always so classy… so controlled… so helpful… so lovable… so nice and so kind… and yet so desirable… all in one adorable package.

My thoughts were interrupted by the irritant sound of the doorbell.

- Who could that be?
***

- What are you doing here?

- Will you invite me to come in or not?

- Yes. Sure. Sorry.

- And who would that be?

- A very good friend of mine.

He smiled and offered his handshake to my friend.

- I see. Nice meeting you.

- Likewise… but who are you?

- An old acquaintance…

It was clear to my friend that just an “old acquaintance” would not act that way, so he looked at me, to try and read me, before making any move.

It was like the knight waiting for the pawn to make his move, so he could think of a strategy to go on. But the rook was not that eager to fly low and he had intentions to make his point, so I made the first move.

***

The air was not heavy, but not totally comfortable either. Sitting by the waterfront, I let my mind wander years before when the weight of age was so lighter and more bearable. That face used to be so dear and that man so kind.

What had happened to us? Where had we lost the sense of respect and the kindness to each other? What was the past doing back in my present?

Taking him apart and away from my life was difficult the first time, but now it seems that some ghosts have come back to haunt me. I just wanted to bring my balance back.

For the moment, I just took him away from my partner and home, so I could sort that situation out, without unnecessary involvement from all sides.

He came back from the washroom and sat right in front of me. He still loved his cold beer, while I was used to the fresh green wine in the heat of the summer. He still looked good, although his ginger hair had thinned evidently. His somewhat round face was still handsome and lovely. His smile was almost the same. I recalled the day I was attracted by those little curves on his lips, when he opened his grin to me the first time. His eyes had lines drawn around them. I watched his face carefully, studying his movements and trying to figure out what he wanted from me... this time...

- I missed you, did you know that?

- No, I didn’t. What do you want from me now?

- Don’t be such a pain. We used to be so good together. We were friends.

- Exactly. We were friends… but then you left that friendship aside for a situation you did not even left a margin to fight for.

- How do you know I did not fight for?

- We could still have kept our friendship… Do you have any idea of how difficult it was to write those things so you would have your perfect life?

- You stated we had never been real friends…

- For the sake of your relationship. What else could I say? That we used to be friends but then we would not anymore? Please! Spare me!

He held my hand. I was so pissed off I was trembling. He waited until I stopped arguing and said in a very low voice:

- I really missed you. It was so difficult…

He stopped when he realised I was blank and my eyes were moist.

- I’m sorry.

- What do you want from me? You have taken everything away and now what? You come back as if nothing had happened and say you’re sorry. Am I supposed to forgive you?

- She was pregnant. It was our baby she was going to have. I would never be able to leave her. You know me.

- No. I don’t know you. I really have no idea who you really are.

- Fair enough.

He stopped for a while and then said, as if it was the most natural thing to say.

- We are not together anymore. We have broken up like civilized people, but cannot live as a couple anymore. The boy is with her.

- He looks so much like you.

- How do you know?

I stopped. That was not supposed to happen. I blushed. He noticed it.

- You’re so surprising. I did not mean to make you suffer, but try to understand…

I got so tired suddenly. I remembered how I tried so hard to understand, to accept and forget, but I could never do so. I have tried to suffocate all the things I felt, but it was so difficult. I said nothing else.

He held my hand in his and kissed my fingers. I tried to pull myself free from his grasp but he was strong and firm. He turned my hand around and kissed the palm of my hand with apparent tenderness.

My head was going dizzy…


1 comentário:

  1. Another story written in first person singular, so the readers choose who the main character may be

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