the way things should be
The blond is back, pressing another rocks glass into my hand, tracing her fingers up my arm. I take more big gulps. My head gets a little fuzzier, my emotions numb. My stomach starts to unclench, my blood flows again. The blond takes my hand and leads me to some vacated chairs. As we walk past, the hostess catches my eye and smiles, giving me a thumbs up. For moving on, I suppose. For not causing a scene.
The blond chirps and babbles, and I try to follow what she's saying, but it's so goddamn boring, and so hard to concentrate. She doesn't seem to notice - or care - that I'm not really listening. Looking past her shoulder, I'm free to watch them again. She's twirling a lock of her red hair around her pointer and middle finger; it's something she does when she's splitting her attention between what's being said and analyzing her feelings. Somehow, she can listen and think at the same, a feat I've never been able to manage. He says something that makes her laugh. Despite the alcohol, my stomach clenches again.
I turn my attention back to the blond. She perched on the seat across from me, blathering on. I study the curve of her heels as they turn into muscular calves and the abrupt angle of the knee, where her long, athletic thighs finally hide beneath her short pleated skirt. She catches the direction of my stare and smiles unabashedly. My chagrin must be obvious. She leans in close, and I can smell the perfume in her hair. "You're welcome to look, don't be embarrassed." She whispers. She kisses me, and I relax, trying to enjoy it.
The blond chirps and babbles, and I try to follow what she's saying, but it's so goddamn boring, and so hard to concentrate. She doesn't seem to notice - or care - that I'm not really listening. Looking past her shoulder, I'm free to watch them again. She's twirling a lock of her red hair around her pointer and middle finger; it's something she does when she's splitting her attention between what's being said and analyzing her feelings. Somehow, she can listen and think at the same, a feat I've never been able to manage. He says something that makes her laugh. Despite the alcohol, my stomach clenches again.
I turn my attention back to the blond. She perched on the seat across from me, blathering on. I study the curve of her heels as they turn into muscular calves and the abrupt angle of the knee, where her long, athletic thighs finally hide beneath her short pleated skirt. She catches the direction of my stare and smiles unabashedly. My chagrin must be obvious. She leans in close, and I can smell the perfume in her hair. "You're welcome to look, don't be embarrassed." She whispers. She kisses me, and I relax, trying to enjoy it.