post 1 : rain

Finally we were alone, sitting in silence with an uncomfortable combination of humidity and tension. It was 3:30am and if we were to sleep, he would have to be the one to suggest it. I thought, after a couple of minutes when he stood, that this was his intention; instead I looked up to see his bare chest, and his warm face smiling down at me.

“You took your shirt off”, I stated the obvious. Smooth, Alice, real smooth.

“Yes”, he agreed.

“Wish I could take my shirt off; it’s too hot for this shit”.

“You wouldn’t take your shirt off”, he said, mocking me, “because”, he continued, “you are a prude”. His voice was half prudish itself, half matter-of-fact.

“You’re being very mean to me”, I played back.

“It’s foreplay baby”, he giggled.

He sat back down, seemingly happy to have broken the silence. The conversation flowed smoothly from there, and as we discussed his GP rotation and various other recent occurrences in his everyday life, I could feel myself slipping right back there.

Spontaneous, I thought to myself. He told Ebony he likes spontaneous.

“Do you want to go for a swim?” I asked suddenly, half interrupting him mid-med-talk conversation.

“Yes, I do”.

We jumped the fence, stripped down to next-to-nothing, and were soon submerged in delicious warm water. It didn’t last long; a quick scolding from management and we were on the other side of the fence again in 2 minutes flat.

We found ourselves again on those chairs outside of the caravan, surrounded by silence. It had just started to rain. I got up. It was hot and I was wet already. I took a couple of steps from under the cover, tilted my head back and let the rain fall down on me. It felt fresh and new, as if all of that rain could wash away what I’d said to him over the past year, as if it could make him forget so I didn’t have to be embarrassed anymore. For reasons unknown, I started to giggle.

I could feel him watching me, I knew he’d be wondering what I was doing, standing in the rain laughing to myself. I didn’t care. Let him judge, it’s not as though he is mine to lose, I silently justified. He surprised me though; when I looked at him he didn’t seem to be judging me at all. Instead, he slowly and cautiously got up and wandered over to me. He stopped in front of me, his face close to my face, and he too tilted his head back and let the rain consume him.

I fell silent and watched for a while, the water trickling off his perfect body, his face outwardly at peace, his heart seemingly unbroken. I couldn’t look anymore. I closed my eyes. After a few minutes, we woke from our individual daydreams. He smiled at me, and I smiled back. We locked eyes and held for a little too long. He held out one arm, guardedly. Ironic, I thought, someone who is so confident can be so very cautious. One hand touched my face, followed quickly by the other one; wrapping around like it was precious; like I was precious. I shivered. At the now cool rain or his touch, I couldn’t tell.

“Are you cold?” he asked, concerned.

 “Yes” was all I could manage.

He grabbed hold of me and there I was; hands pinned to my sides in his arms, my lips pushed against his neck, the smell of him flowing through me. I hesitated, unsure if he would regret the closeness he had just created. Deciding he didn’t regret it, at least not immediately, I wrapped my arms around him, too, and we stood, both soaked with rain, me with torment.

Taking my hand, he guided me back under cover and stood in front of me, watching. Waiting for my response to what had just unfolded perhaps. I wasn’t sure. So I waited, too. There was a hint of something in him that told me what he was about to do; it had become familiar to me. Naturally, and as though he were to do it every day, he leant in and kissed my mouth so gently I could barely feel his lips skim over mine. Instinct took over and we came together, his hands in my hair; desperately grabbing, my eyes pressed together tight afraid that it would end as suddenly as it had begun and wanting to draw out this storybook moment. His breath was my breath. Tears welled in my eyes and I let a couple escape. There was an inconceivable angst in my chest. And then; exactly what I was afraid of.

He let me go and dropped back, rapidly becoming aware of what he was doing. 

“I’m going to go sleep in my car” he said, determined; breaking my heart just a little more than I thought was possible.

“Owen”, I said, kind, “There are spare beds inside, you don’t have to sleep in your car”.

“I know, he reassured me, but if I sleep inside, I won’t be able to control myself, I will want to sleep with you”.

“Then sleep with me, Owen, and don’t think about it. Now there’s a thought” I provoked. Surely he knew by now that I would choose heartache following a night next to him, than no night with him at all. Surely he knew that trying to protect me was hopeless, not to mention defeatist tonight, subsequent to what had just occurred.

“Don’t think about it, there’s a thought?” he laughed, mocking me again, this time at my contradictory choice of words.

I smiled at him and, without another sound we went inside and crawled into the one small bunk bed, barely big enough for one person. He pulled me close and held on tight. I sighed, relieved that I was about to spend one more night close to him; that I would be able to touch his hair and kiss his face, envelope him in the arms he wasn’t aware were attached to a girl who cared too much. And for a little while, at least, he would let me.

“You smell good” I mumbled, half asleep.

“Like chlorine?” He replied, smiling against my cheek.

“No. Like Owen”