I hear the locks click open. The door opens slightly and reveals her beautiful face, smiling. She’s always smiling. Most times, she’s thinking about something ridiculously hilarious, at other times it’s mischievous. It’s one of the things I love about her, and why I’m here at her door, in this grand hotel, at 9:15pm.
“You can come in if you want.” She says and walks away from the door. I follow her into the room and watch as her slender figure goes to lie on the bed. She’s fully clad, I must add, in jeans and a casual tee. I settle into the chair next to the bed on her right. She turns to look at me, that same smile on her face.
It’s a knowing smile.
In that moment, she knows what I truly want. She knows I’m too much of a nerd to deceive her with eloquent words. She likes the purity of my intentions, the desire glossily reflected in my eyes. She knows I want nothing more than to be with her, my willingness to stay with her even in silence very apparent.
We do not sit in silence though; we talk with ease and for long spells. I love how she has a witty retort for my witty jabs. Our conversation follows a script crafted in the heavens for secular concerns. We discuss football, fashion, culture, and careers.
“You can come and lie down if you want.” She says suddenly, out of the blue.
It is an invitation I do not expect. Who am I to lie beside such a goddess? I lie that I’m content where I’m seated and make no move to get up.
“I’m going to change,” She adds as she gets up and heads for the bathroom “Don’t peek.”
As expected, she’s smiling; a coy smile that leaves me wondering if she’s being mischievous or finds my front humorous. I make a joke about it and we both laugh.
I keep the jokes coming and she responds from behind closed doors. She remerges wearing a tank top and bum shorts, and I want nothing more in that moment than to hug her forever. I take my time to look at her; her light skin, slender legs, and lips that demand to be kissed. I wonder if I have any justification for not compromising if she asks me to.
“Are you sure you’re comfortable in that seat?” She asks as she dives under the blankets, denying me the opportunity to continue staring at her. I suddenly realise the room has gotten quite cold. I mumble something I cannot remember and look around for the remote control for the air conditioner. I find it resting on the bed, right beside her.
I finally have a justification to lie in bed with her.
I settle next to her at the edge of the bed, fiddle with the remote, and try not to touch her. She carries on our conversation like nothing has changed, and complains about her teeth; a baseless insecurity for such a stunning being. She proceeds to show me after I urge her to, and then I smell her.
It is too much to bear.
As she settles back down, I inch closer. I am fully aware that she has noticed, but we carry on all the same. She says she feels sleepy, but I urge her to stay awake and watch the hours fly with me. Then I shuffle over, closer and closer until I’m close to wrap my arms around her. I toy with the idea, ready to risk it all at this point, and then change my mind. This decision, however, does not last as I find my arm around her waist. She turns to back me and I casually trail my fingers on her skin. Our conversation descends in pitch until we’re almost slurring. I have so much to say that is trapped in my throat, dancing on the tip of my tongue, demanding to be let out. I restrain myself for reasons unknown to me and watch as she drifts in and out of consciousness, such a beautiful sight to behold.
As she falls into a deep sleep, I stare at her sleeping form for some moments before deciding to leave. I think about kissing her forehead but then decide against it; smiling at the thought of the jokes she would make if she woke up suddenly and found my lips hovering above her face. I walk out of the room and shut the door behind me, content to hear the clicking that signifies that the automatic locks are in place.
My wrist watch reads 3:34am, but it only feels like an hour has passed since I entered the room. I head for my own room and begin to field the questions I was too afraid to ask myself moments ago. Knowing the appeal she wields, I wonder if I am special to her. She has just let me lie in her bed, and let me touch her skin. While I know not many men can boast of that, I wonder if behind that coy, knowing smile, she is only taking me for a ride.
It is now just over a year since that day. For those who wish to know, we never got together. Trapped in a whirlwind of what ifs and maybes, we have drifted apart with an ease I will probably never understand. Maybe I gave up, or maybe she did; all we could have been is now nothing more than words on a page, and questions thrown in my face by my heart every time I lie in bed with nothing more than a pillow and a phone to keep me company in these loveless days…