- You come here every day, always at the same time. I don’t know why ... yet ... but I wonder if there is a particular reason...
He was right. It had been some time since she did the same thing every morning on her way to work and in the evening, on her way back home: stopping at that particular Cafe at the corner.
After a very few times, she realized the waiter who used to serve her was always the same - a young man of big, melancholy blue eyes, strategically misaligned light-brown hair, with a very pleasant face to look at. He seemed to be younger than her - at least ten years. He was tall and rather stout, a bit far from the purely athletic shaped body, although he was not even close to being fat. That young man was actually quite attractive to the eyes – at least to her eyes.
He invariably saluted her with a broad smile when she walked in and headed to the same table by the window. As soon as she sat, he hastened to serve her the strong plain 'espresso' she used to order and which was freshly prepared as soon as she walked in.
The same routine was repeated every day for weeks and it was the first time she was addressed by the young man for anything else than the coffee she used to order. Maybe the little contact they have had on their hands when he put the cup on the table caused that unusual reaction.
She looked at him with some curiosity, on what would look like a boldness act from an employee to a regular customer.
In a fraction of seconds she realized the reason she kept on attending the same place every day.
How could she tell him that among so many choices of Cafes, that specific one was where she felt most alive, for the simple pleasure of looking momentarily to those magnetizing blue eyes, which never seemed to smile?
The statement, almost a question, however, left her uncomfortable as a teenager caught peeking at a prohibited man.
Why don’t you say what you think? He gave the line for you to grab and you just let it go. What are you waiting for?
She did not know how to react. That little demon installed in his brain was asking the question she did not know or would not ever answer.
And how could she say that the simple fact of looking at those big, sad and brilliant sapphires, made her days brighter and less dull?
Although she did not answer him with more than an awkward smile, that question had given her food for thought. She needed to do something, she knew... and the sooner the better... or she would lose the opportunity he opened with that simple question.
She opened her mouth to speak, but something stronger - perhaps a survival instinct - prevented her from doing so.
She merely stood up, left the money to pay the bill on the table and left the place without looking back. As she passed outside the window, she still saw the boy with an embarrassed expression and a slight flushing on the cheeks, still collecting the scattered coins from the top of the white table cloth.
***
- Why don’t you invite me in? How long will we keep this conversation here on the outside? I feel a little cold and my little break will be over in a short time...
The woman looked at that young man with a mixture of affection and respect and invited him, then, to enter the corner Cafe near her home, where she used to go every day for a strong and sugarless 'espresso' in the morning and a 'cappuccino' late in the afternoon.
After a certain incident a few weeks before, she had decided to reconsider what she regarded initially as a defiant approach. After some thinking and reconsidering, it then turned out to be a kind of seduction with words...
She came back the following morning, but it was not the same young man who brought her the daily espresso. She noticed he stayed at a corner, just pretending not to watch her, while the other man served her coffee.
Somewhat worried, even more than disappointed, the woman asked the waiter to ask his colleague to bring her a cream pastry, which always goes well with strong and dense coffee, in spite of her not being used to eating sweet things that time in the morning.
He came and placed the dish on the table without looking at her directly. Knowing that she had hurt the pride of the young man, the woman said:
- I’m sorry.
- Lady, I am a servant here, nothing else. Please forgive my impudence of yesterday. I am so sorry and I promise I will not repeat this inappropriate behaviour anymore.
He spoke with studied formal speech, which he passed in his head many times that morning before she came in the premises. Fearing that she noticed how nervous he was, he put both hands in the pockets of his work apron.
She detected his uneasiness and said:
- I'd rather we were at least friends...
- OK, he told her, still without looking up, but she realized he blushed and smiled a shy and somewhat weird smile. He said a polite 'excuse me', turned around and left.
Only the other day, when she returned to the Cafe, like on a normal day, she was greeted with a smile, although still a bit shy. She sighed with relief. The strain had apparently dissipated between the two of them.
***
He was not dressed for a date. He wore an already-worn leather jacket over a blue sweater. Faded blue jeans and brown heavy boots completed the attractively casual look, which suited him so well... at least to her eyes. Without the apron over the ordinary clothes, he would pass by a regular customer of the Cafe.
She still had her work clothes - a quilted coat and a cashmere scarf with stripes in various tones of gray - simple but comfortable. It was not exactly the outfit for a meeting either. Despite working for the police, it was not in an area where uniforms were ever to be used, for obvious reasons. She often had to go through her working days, like an ordinary person - not a police officer in uniform - to investigate and get information.
A pause for an "espresso" or "cappuccino"... that was the only thing they had agreed to. The cool late winter evening was perfect for a hot large cup of cappuccino - and that was what she ordered. He chose an espresso – strong and with no sugar at all.
They sat facing each other, like two long-time acquaintances. In fact, they were only analyzing each other. They needed time to assess how far they could get. She knew she had to have patience. They both needed a bit of security and confidence to be able to feel more comfortable in the presence of each other...
As he spoke, she listened to him in silence, trying to understand his reasons, expectations and concerns. It was the first time they chatted that long. When they parted, however, she felt a pang of disappointment. Just a handshake and a 'see you later' broke her expectations in small portions, like a crystal 'bibelot' falling down on a hard, polished and cold granite floor.
Minutes later, when she got home, she decided it was too late for anything but to prepare herself for bed. She was already on her way the bedroom when she heard the characteristic "beep" of the phone indicating an income message. She turned around and went back to the table where she left the phone and picked it up. She read the message and gave a loud laugh. Well, all was not lost, after all...
***
The small break meetings every day turned out to be more and more common as time went by. She was getting fascinated by slowly discovering things about that character so different from her.
One day, in an outburst of alleged boldness, he decided to invite her to dinner. That would be the first time they would be in a real date. A week had passed since she had told him the cause of always stopping at the Café twice a day. He was flattered, but blushed slightly when heard her reason being finally expressed out. It was his cue to leave shyness behind and be, once again, daring.
The woman had played her best cards, knowing she might lose the game, but unlike her fears, the boy told her he had to take an audacious action, especially from the absence of response the other day. His apparent insecurity made his shy smile even more appealing and utterly charming. She comforted him, saying that she also felt insecure, but was willing to give it a try.
- You’re such a seductive woman... I'd love to see you dressed in a more feminine way, out of the context before and after work, with these usual work clothes. They give you a very... uhm... serious look...
He had been well educated and polite. That hesitation made her think that he might have meant that the work clothes made her manly... too masculine. She laughed at his proposal, anticipating her discomfort in dressing like a 'lady', after a long time, but accepting the challenge. It could be a fun experience, at least.
- Your body is so attractive... you should show it a little more... more times, maybe...
He was beginning to cross the line... She decided it was best to stop the conversation immediately ... before she would lose her composure ... and kiss him right there in front of everyone...
She got up and left, quite hastily, when he laughed at the blush that suddenly appeared decorating her pale face...
***
Lost or hidden in a forgotten corner of her wardrobe she found a 'basic black dress', as it used to be called, in her past days. Her only decent dress, wore but a few times, was a single piece of knitted cotton with Lycra, which clung to the body in a way that left little to the imagination. Two very thin shoulder straps made her feel almost naked - which was not exactly the truth - but it made her feel like that anyway. On top of the bare shoulders, she wore a short black laced bolero intended to disguise the sensation of being extremely uncomfortable.
In front of the mirror, she carefully analyzed herself from head to toe. She felt like she was inside the body of a person who was not really her – someone else, in fact. She thought it was not a good idea, after all, to accept that challenge. She should call it off...
False modesty?
That voice in her head again... She laughed at the irony.
Although very little used to makeup, she put a bit of a transparent lip ‘gloss’ on and with a dark pencil she outlined a very subtle touch around her hazel eyes. She could not go beyond that and did not want to show what she was not.
Still having the sensation she was not at ease in a dress like that, she saw the boy's eyes smiled for the first time, even before his lips, as soon as he set his sight on her. Her doubts immediately dissipated. After so long, she was feeling attractive... and what a devious sensation it was...
- Today we will cook together.
His voice was low and serious, but not too serious.
- I know who will have to wash the dirty dishes, she said, smiling.
He winked, mischievously, and laughed loudly. She immediately fell in love with his laughter - so loose and spontaneous - as if he was that young man who had nothing to fear and nothing to lose... full of life and hope in the future... or at least that was the impression he passed on to her at that very moment.
He led her to the kitchen. While chopping some vegetables for a soup he was preparing, as a starter, he talked animatedly about music and the life he lived, before they met, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Fascinated by his conversation, the woman carefully came closer to the young man and touched his hand slightly. He stopped doing the task and, with studied spontaneity, joined the chopped vegetables with his two cupped hands and placed them in the water which was already boiling in a pot. He seasoned the soup with a cube of vegetable broth, stirred it well and tasted it. He, then, turned to face her.
That man looked at her in a way that no one else had ever done before. He had not only his eyes fixed on her, but his interest went far beyond his simply observing... it was as if he could see through her... and she thought that thing was eerily sexy.
He stepped forward and took her bolero off, placing it carefully on the back of a chair. He kissed her one shoulder, then the other, as he slowly pushed the delicate dress straps to the sides with his fingers. As he opened the zipper down, he continued slowly kissing her back from her neck downwards. When he released the black fabric of her pale body, he uncovered a large tattoo printed on her left side, which extended up to a spot close to her groin. He asked her if there was any special meaning to it.
- 'Victory' - she said.
He kissed the image - painted in black only - an elongated Japanese dragon, indelibly stamped on her skin. He stopped there for a while and then went back to caressing her body, tasting it with his lips.
His attention to every detail of her body caused her chills, in spite of the gentle warmth that came from his mouth. She closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by his touch... so warm and so welcome. When his mouth was close to her breasts, she held his face firmly and tenderly with both hands and brought it to the height of her face, looking at him deeply in those amazing blue eyes.
She kissed him fondly... slightly... carefully. He closed his eyes and gave himself in to the woman as a true lover.
They played right there in the kitchen while the soup was boiling up in the stove behind them. He lifted her off the ground with a big hug, as he kissed her with a passion which she was not used to and sat her on the counter. He kissed her neck, her breasts and her stomach and went down. She closed her eyes when he touched the most sensitive spot of her body and moaned softly.
That boy had become an experienced and fully grown up man and lover and made her the most special woman she ever had been. His body was all she needed. His touch, everything she wanted - even without having a firm awareness of it.
She seethed around him, like a volcano in full activity, blasting repeatedly, by the heat emanating from all the recesses of her body.
When they had passed the fire to lower flame, he looked into her eyes and said softly:
-The moments spent with you are, for me, the most beautiful ones.
The woman, who was asleep inside her for so long, felt that inside that man there was a great strength and a unique sweetness, albeit in a very innocent and spontaneous way.
He added:
- I like your 'tattoo'... and I love your body. It is so perfect...
The woman asked him why he said that and he told her he felt he had to express what he was feeling at that moment. He, who had always cautiously studied the terrain on which he ventured to tread, become brave enough to face his own fears, based on what had happened between them, a few minutes before.
It was only when he asked her how she felt when she saw him that she said... not only everything she felt, but also everything she thought of. He realized that she was not afraid to expose herself.
He opened a half bashful and refreshingly provocative boyish smile, putting a song to play on, right then. He used to change the subject when felt uncomfortable or intimidated to answer something he did not want to.
"I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky, I think about it every night and day, spread my wings and fly away ..." (R. Kelly)
He took that moment to say something without talking. For a brief moment, she had the feeling those melancholy blue eyes smiled at her again, but that impression faded away very quickly.
The words sung messed up with her reactions, making her look at him with a unique affection, but he looked away, blushing a little, almost shyly. Amazing how, in just a matter of minutes, he had completely changed, from a daring and experienced lover who knew how to explore all her senses, to that shy little boy again. The image she visualized immediately was of an animal that hid inside its protective shell.
He decided to choose another song, as if that one was not expressing whatever he wanted to.
He pretended to be busy and hid his beautifully blue eyes from her, when the hoarse voice of Bryan Adams began: "Look into my eyes, you will see what you mean to me... and continued: Everything I do, I do it for you"...
She wrote those words on a piece of paper and showed it to him, who smiled, amused, looking down and away again.
She walked towards him and kissed him, lightly, on a specific spot of his neck in the area behind the ear... Her whole body shuddered when she saw the goose bumps growing up his skin, as if a load of electricity had switched a reaction on in her lover’s body.
He turned around and kissed her again... starting by the eyes and going down, while listening to the moaning of the woman, who already felt a volcano about to enter into a new eruption, exploding in all shades of red inside her.
Those eyes, of the most stunning shade of sapphire blue, flashed when they reconnected with hers.
Tightly clinched to his body, like a castaway who clasps to a lifeline never to let it go away ever again, she let herself lose control one more time... and another one... and another one...
