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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1310719-Late-Night--Rendezvous
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1310719
Two people with wishful thinking. They are in love, with the moment at least
                               
Late Night Rendezvous


         As I pulled up in front of his apartment in the dark, the thought of retreating back to the safety of my house crossed my mind. But I didn’t, instead I look one last time in the rear view mirror and get out of the car. It was a nice night out, or morning I should say. It was about 1:30, the stars shining brightly in the sky. It is deathly quiet as I take the first couple of steps toward the apartment door. But before I could even reach, it opened. A figure stood in the doorway waiting for me to take the next couple of steps that would lead me inside. I hesitated for a moment contemplating, and then I was in. No regrets right? I thought to myself.
         He led me to his bedroom in complete darkness. It almost felt like a game as we tiptoed in the dark trying not to wake his roommate. I could see the TV screen’s flashing light at the end of the hallway; I knew we were almost there. Then, there I was standing awkwardly in his room looking around, taking in everything that I saw. This was a first for me. The moment, the person, everything was new.
         “Feel free to sit on the bed,” he says as he was lying down half looking at the television, half waiting to see if I would make the first move.
         “Yeah, sure,”  was the only thing I could think of to say.
I sit down at the edge of the bed pretending to be engrossed in the movie that was on. I could feel his eyes on me but I was too afraid to look. He turns his body so that he's facing me. He moves closer until he’s directly in front of me.
         “I’ve uh changed my mind,” I say in a panicky voice.
         “No you haven’t,” he replies, so sure of himself.
Suddenly I wasn’t so sure that I had changed my mind. He's staring me right in the eyes, waiting, anticipating.
         “Come on,” he says in a whisper.
Then, there I was kissing him. His lips so soft, it felt…amazing, for lack of a better word. I pull away, as if to breathe. He starts to kiss my neck now, doing this thing with his tongue, I don’t want to moan.
         “Lie down,” he says while slightly nudging.
I don’t want to lie down just yet, for fear of what might happen. As if reading my mind,
         “Were not going to do anything you don’t want to do,”
I half smile.
         “All were going to do is kiss,” he adds.
I lie down, what’s a girl to do, I was being sweet-talked and coroused. The sad part was that I secretly liked it. The music played in the background, with only a dim light coming from the muted TV. He lies down flat of his back guiding me on top of him; our lips meet in the dark.
         “It’s kind of cold in here,” I mention to him.          
         “Do you want to come under the covers?” he asks, taking this as his cue.
I looked around the room and then at us in bed, me on top of him. Feeling his bulge between my legs I think to myself, it will be fine as long as we both keep our clothes on. I try to convince myself of this.
         “Come on, “
He waits for my response. I had almost forgot he had asked a question.
        “So, you can violate me?” I kid in a seductive way.
         “I would have to close the door for that,” he replies playing along.
And then he was getting up closing the door.
         “Wait, no. How will I get out if I needed to?” I object now.
I was suddenly not sure if I wanted to continue down the path we were going. He looks at me now with a smile on his face.
         “Well, I’ll show you a trick,” he says with laughter in his voice.
         “Oh, yeah?” I prompted.
         “All you have to do is turn the doorknob and pull,” he says trying to sound as serious as possible.
         “Look, I’ll do a demonstration,” he continues.
I pretend to be surprised by what he shows me, he was mocking me.
         “Wow, does it work for everyone?” I ask
         “Everyone, I promise. Just twist and pull.”
We laugh now in the dark. All my doubts seem to vanish in that moment.
         He returns to the bed now, not taking his eyes off of me. He leads me under the covers, kissing me ever so gently. We couldn’t get enough of each other, opening our mouths just a little bit wider, every movement made in the dark, every lingering kiss consumed us. And then we heard a door open. The light is turned on in the hall. We both pause, staying quiet trying to listen. Our faint breathing was almost deafening.
         “Chris is up,” he says now telling me the obvious.
I don’t respond, trying hard to read his face in the dark. I’m still on top of him, though sitting up firmly now. I can’t figure out what’s he's feeling, thinking.
         “Are you going to tell Chris I was here? I ask now.
         “He probably already knows,”
         “How?” I ask bewildered.
         “Well, why else would I be opening the door at 2:00 in the morning?” he responds calmly.
         “It could have been anyone? Why would he assume it was me?” I ask, feeling nervous.
         “You’re the only one that comes over here,” he says, making it sound so logical.
He’s staring at me now, his eyes trying to read my expression, trying to see what I was thinking. We were experts at hiding that from each other.
         “Why?” he asks.
         “Do you not what him to know?”
I stumble for the right words. Did I not want him to know? I ask myself. I wasn’t sure.
         “It’s not like the next time you see him he’s going to point and say he’s knows that you were here,” he’s says after I don’t answer.
I force a laugh. At least that’s what I hope he wouldn’t do, I think to myself. But, deep down I knew he wouldn’t. Chris was a nice guy. Then as suddenly as the light had turned on, if was off again.
         I move from on top of him as I hear the door close. Beside him now I'm looking up at the ceiling. He turns to his side to face me. His face moving closer to mines, I know he is going to try to kiss me. I move my face a little. He stops now.
         “What’s wrong,” he asks, noticing my hesitance.
I don’t respond, not because I want to be mean but because I don’t really know what’s wrong.
         “Look all were going to do is kiss, don’t worry,” he says, his hand on my back.
I don't look at him.
         “But were missing something,” he continues.
I turn to him now. I can’t see his expression.
         “What’s that?” I ask, genuinely curious.
         “The kissing,” he says with a smile.
And just like that, he had me again. Kissing, touching, everything that went along with it.
         “What are you thinking about,” I ask after we had continued for almost a half  hour.
He pauses for a moment as if really thinking about the question.
         “You” he finally replies.
That simple three-letter word never sounded so good before. It had been placed in other sentences, used to blame, but tonight it stood on it’s own.  Holding promises of tomorrow, it was all that I needed to hear.
© Copyright 2007 Cathy The Destroyer (indiecat at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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