your warmth, my solace
Just a scene. This is for you - you know who you are.
✖
Your phone rings shrilly in the otherwise quiet apartment and you look outside the window, finding a view that was finally to your liking. There are no clouds or stars, but the cityscape lights shine brightly before your eyes. You decide that it was fine, and finally take the infernal contraption to your ears. Your voice is hoarse from sleep. The call finishes and you set the phone back on the side table, yawning.
You pull yourself out of the bed grudgingly. The cold air prickles your skin and you shiver, feeling goose bumps as you run your hands over your bare legs. It’s always coldest at nine in the evening. Your nose itches and you frown. As much as you wanted people to fuck off after seven, you can only keep that thought to yourself. At least there was a good night sky to look forward to when you go out.
Winter has already come but you don’t bother changing the thermostat into a more comfortable temperature. You’re the kind of person who’d keep the air conditioning on so that you can huddle comfortably under a duvet while you sleep; the kind of person who prefers to be warmed by another presence instead, really. You look behind only to find an unruly queen-sized bed, and you muse about why you really sleep around that time anyway.
For an apartment unit in the city, yours isn’t half bad, considering the price. Around 60 square meters without any rooms aside from the bathroom. It’s quite bare aside from the basic furniture; fridge, stove, a few decorations here and there, work stations. Aside from that, nothing. Normally it doesn’t bother you that the house is empty, but at times like these, you do. This is why you sleep at these hours. The emptiness of your unit echoes loudly in your ears when she’s not around.
She works from one to eleven; you work from ten to seven. You’re never able to have lunch or dinner together, much more breakfast. Sometimes the both of you work overtime but whatever you do, you don’t catch each other awake. Instead, you wake each other up and it’s long since you realized it was the best way for the two of you - to wake up finding yourselves not alone anymore. (Maybe that’s just you, though.)
This is why you hate being woken up when you’re sleeping in the early evening, then again the publishing industry doesn’t know the meaning of hours off. Your only consolation is that your office is just a few blocks away from here, and that you get to go outside instead of stay cooped up inside your apartment. No matter how loud you play your music, there’s always a constricting feeling in your chest when you’re aware of her absence.
You run to your closet and immediately grab a bra and some pants, then put them on quickly. You threw in a jacket as well, but despite the many layers you put on yourself, the cold, squeezing feeling remains there. Suddenly, you’re claustrophobic and need to go outside quicky. Unfortunately, this kind of thing happens every time and you know it’s stupid, but you can’t help it. You always hold yourself high, but the childish tendencies you hide carefully always rear their ugly head in the most inopportune of times. You decide it’s better to stop thinking and slip onto some loafers. You also decide it’s about time you bought a new pair of shoes.
The only things you bring are your cell phone, your wallet, your ID, your keys, and yourself. Everything else is on your computer or on the internet, and you’re never someone who brings work at home. Home is where you shed your inhibitions and openly admit your fears, but only when she’s there, willing to listen. It’s never really home when the both of you aren’t present there.
Your thoughts about solitude gradually dissipate as you run down the stairs of your building. You fish your phone out, send her a quick text to say that you might be out for a few hours, push the device back into your pant pocket, then set out to the task at hand.
At nine in the evening, the city is still pretty lively. It’s that climax time before the stores close, where on would feel as if they have to raid those stores because they’ll be gone soon enough. The streets bustling with people is enough to keep you from thinking you’re alone, as the thought itself cripples you like no other.
You look up at the sky and find yourself disappointed at the lack of stars up there. It shouldn’t have surprised you anymore, but you just have this hope every time you look up that there would be some anyway. Maybe it’d be better to forget any ideas about stargazing for now. Maybe someday when you look up to the city sky again, you’ll find them finally. And you know that amazing feeling when you forget something for some time and suddenly you have it. But not tonight.
Suddenly it feels much colder and you pull your jacket around yourself tighter. You quicken your steps so that your mind can just stop thinking. Thankfully enough, your building is already there. You enter, greet the guards mechanically, and get on the elevator. As your ride up to your floor, you mentally nitpick on the elevator music just to take your mind off things.
When you arrive, the office is almost desolate save for a few people by the corners. The co-worker who called you earlier looks pretty groggy already. You smile sheepishly at her as she greets you, and you’re both relieved and guilty that you’ve been able to nap earlier. She briefs you on the things that need to be worked on but you don’t get intimidated by the bulk of files she dumps on your desk. Adrenaline starts to kick in, and once your co-worker walks away, you crack your neck and fingers. You know you can do it within two hours, three hours max.
You finish after four hours and nineteen seconds. It took you longer time to make coffee for yourself to keep awake, but to your defense it is work with such small text at your non-peak hour. As soon as you leave the building, the caffeine in your system is suddenly flushed out and you just want to come home and get cooped up in your bed. You hail a cab and get in quickly, even though it’d cost you a good amount of money just sitting your ass there for five minutes, but your safety takes priority. Not that taking a cab ensures your safety - it could even endanger you a hundredfold - but you’re not awake enough anymore to think about that.
You really do get home after five minutes. For a while you just stare at the door to the apartment, before getting in. The flight of steps seemed longer with each heavy step that you take, and it doesn’t help that you’re already shivering from the cold. Inside your mind, you chant that this too shall pass. Your stomach grumbles and steals the show, but at least it makes you walk faster. Finally you arrive at your door, insert the key into the knob, and let yourself in.
It’s just exactly how you left it earlier. The lights are still all off but in the very minimal brightness the lights outside provides, you can see that nothing really moved in their places. One thing did change though - there’s a familiar waft of air and an inviting warmness that filled the small unit now.
Hurriedly you get out of your pants and bra and leave them hanging on the backrest of your swivel chair. You figured you can fix it tomorrow (later that day) anyway. The bed dips in your weight and she groans, but nevertheless reaches her hand back to find yours. You squeeze it and tuck your chin over her shoulder, sliding your arm just over her waist.
Her skin is cold and yours is much warmer in comparison, but it doesn’t matter. You just pull the duvet higher so that it would cover until just below your shoulders. She groans and closes her hand around you. Definitely much warmer.
The thoughts that plagued you earlier are now a million miles away and now your mind is only filled of the way her natural scent lingers under your nose. Sleep finally claims your tired eyes, with your face buried against the side of her neck, and the last thing that registers to you is her gentle shift in position and the smile on your lips.
✖
Your phone rings shrilly in the otherwise quiet apartment and you look outside the window, finding a view that was finally to your liking. There are no clouds or stars, but the cityscape lights shine brightly before your eyes. You decide that it was fine, and finally take the infernal contraption to your ears. Your voice is hoarse from sleep. The call finishes and you set the phone back on the side table, yawning.
You pull yourself out of the bed grudgingly. The cold air prickles your skin and you shiver, feeling goose bumps as you run your hands over your bare legs. It’s always coldest at nine in the evening. Your nose itches and you frown. As much as you wanted people to fuck off after seven, you can only keep that thought to yourself. At least there was a good night sky to look forward to when you go out.
Winter has already come but you don’t bother changing the thermostat into a more comfortable temperature. You’re the kind of person who’d keep the air conditioning on so that you can huddle comfortably under a duvet while you sleep; the kind of person who prefers to be warmed by another presence instead, really. You look behind only to find an unruly queen-sized bed, and you muse about why you really sleep around that time anyway.
For an apartment unit in the city, yours isn’t half bad, considering the price. Around 60 square meters without any rooms aside from the bathroom. It’s quite bare aside from the basic furniture; fridge, stove, a few decorations here and there, work stations. Aside from that, nothing. Normally it doesn’t bother you that the house is empty, but at times like these, you do. This is why you sleep at these hours. The emptiness of your unit echoes loudly in your ears when she’s not around.
She works from one to eleven; you work from ten to seven. You’re never able to have lunch or dinner together, much more breakfast. Sometimes the both of you work overtime but whatever you do, you don’t catch each other awake. Instead, you wake each other up and it’s long since you realized it was the best way for the two of you - to wake up finding yourselves not alone anymore. (Maybe that’s just you, though.)
This is why you hate being woken up when you’re sleeping in the early evening, then again the publishing industry doesn’t know the meaning of hours off. Your only consolation is that your office is just a few blocks away from here, and that you get to go outside instead of stay cooped up inside your apartment. No matter how loud you play your music, there’s always a constricting feeling in your chest when you’re aware of her absence.
You run to your closet and immediately grab a bra and some pants, then put them on quickly. You threw in a jacket as well, but despite the many layers you put on yourself, the cold, squeezing feeling remains there. Suddenly, you’re claustrophobic and need to go outside quicky. Unfortunately, this kind of thing happens every time and you know it’s stupid, but you can’t help it. You always hold yourself high, but the childish tendencies you hide carefully always rear their ugly head in the most inopportune of times. You decide it’s better to stop thinking and slip onto some loafers. You also decide it’s about time you bought a new pair of shoes.
The only things you bring are your cell phone, your wallet, your ID, your keys, and yourself. Everything else is on your computer or on the internet, and you’re never someone who brings work at home. Home is where you shed your inhibitions and openly admit your fears, but only when she’s there, willing to listen. It’s never really home when the both of you aren’t present there.
Your thoughts about solitude gradually dissipate as you run down the stairs of your building. You fish your phone out, send her a quick text to say that you might be out for a few hours, push the device back into your pant pocket, then set out to the task at hand.
At nine in the evening, the city is still pretty lively. It’s that climax time before the stores close, where on would feel as if they have to raid those stores because they’ll be gone soon enough. The streets bustling with people is enough to keep you from thinking you’re alone, as the thought itself cripples you like no other.
You look up at the sky and find yourself disappointed at the lack of stars up there. It shouldn’t have surprised you anymore, but you just have this hope every time you look up that there would be some anyway. Maybe it’d be better to forget any ideas about stargazing for now. Maybe someday when you look up to the city sky again, you’ll find them finally. And you know that amazing feeling when you forget something for some time and suddenly you have it. But not tonight.
Suddenly it feels much colder and you pull your jacket around yourself tighter. You quicken your steps so that your mind can just stop thinking. Thankfully enough, your building is already there. You enter, greet the guards mechanically, and get on the elevator. As your ride up to your floor, you mentally nitpick on the elevator music just to take your mind off things.
When you arrive, the office is almost desolate save for a few people by the corners. The co-worker who called you earlier looks pretty groggy already. You smile sheepishly at her as she greets you, and you’re both relieved and guilty that you’ve been able to nap earlier. She briefs you on the things that need to be worked on but you don’t get intimidated by the bulk of files she dumps on your desk. Adrenaline starts to kick in, and once your co-worker walks away, you crack your neck and fingers. You know you can do it within two hours, three hours max.
You finish after four hours and nineteen seconds. It took you longer time to make coffee for yourself to keep awake, but to your defense it is work with such small text at your non-peak hour. As soon as you leave the building, the caffeine in your system is suddenly flushed out and you just want to come home and get cooped up in your bed. You hail a cab and get in quickly, even though it’d cost you a good amount of money just sitting your ass there for five minutes, but your safety takes priority. Not that taking a cab ensures your safety - it could even endanger you a hundredfold - but you’re not awake enough anymore to think about that.
You really do get home after five minutes. For a while you just stare at the door to the apartment, before getting in. The flight of steps seemed longer with each heavy step that you take, and it doesn’t help that you’re already shivering from the cold. Inside your mind, you chant that this too shall pass. Your stomach grumbles and steals the show, but at least it makes you walk faster. Finally you arrive at your door, insert the key into the knob, and let yourself in.
It’s just exactly how you left it earlier. The lights are still all off but in the very minimal brightness the lights outside provides, you can see that nothing really moved in their places. One thing did change though - there’s a familiar waft of air and an inviting warmness that filled the small unit now.
Hurriedly you get out of your pants and bra and leave them hanging on the backrest of your swivel chair. You figured you can fix it tomorrow (later that day) anyway. The bed dips in your weight and she groans, but nevertheless reaches her hand back to find yours. You squeeze it and tuck your chin over her shoulder, sliding your arm just over her waist.
Her skin is cold and yours is much warmer in comparison, but it doesn’t matter. You just pull the duvet higher so that it would cover until just below your shoulders. She groans and closes her hand around you. Definitely much warmer.
The thoughts that plagued you earlier are now a million miles away and now your mind is only filled of the way her natural scent lingers under your nose. Sleep finally claims your tired eyes, with your face buried against the side of her neck, and the last thing that registers to you is her gentle shift in position and the smile on your lips.