10 — Just one more kiss

I never considered myself a lonely person. Eric and Laura have always been there for me, as have Julian and my father. But this Friday, when I find myself without the people who, for years, have been my pillars, I feel loneliness creeping up on me like a shadow, enveloping me in a cold embrace. Even my apartment feels empty and cold without Daddy's radiant presence, who's traveling for work and isn't expected back yet.
But I did consider knocking on Julian's door and asking him to stay with me today, but this is a day when he usually meets with his flings. We're only a few steps apart, and the desire to see him is just shouting inside my head. However, since he brought me home after our brief kiss, an uneasy silence has settled between us. I could see regret shining in his eyes, along with uncertainty. And this inexplicably hurt me.
I take a deep breath, staring at my room that has too many memories in objects, with picture frames on the bedside table. Pictures with Laura, Eric, and even the three of us together.
From the way they look in the photos and in my memories, I feel like a fool for never having noticed that something was going on between them. Actually, if I had thought about it, I might have doubted myself and looked for excuses that are just that, excuses.
I know I covered my own eyes because it was easier that way.
But it's time to accept things as they are and move on.
I take a box and start putting all the memories inside. The picture frames, the stuffed animals he would give me on any occasion… something that, honestly, I never cared for… I just accepted because it was part of the primer of romantic gifts — that, somehow, just as I followed it, Eric seemed to do as well.
Going to my closet, I find all those clothes that no longer find myself in. Dresses that are mostly loose and delicate, with floral patterns and different shades of pink and pastels. All of them were either personally chosen by Eric, or gifted to me by him and Laura. Over time, shopping became boring, as none of the clothes I took really caught my interest.
That's why I take them all off the hanger clumsily and throw them into the box without a care, even if they're expensive and cost several minimum wages.
I don't know how long I spend getting rid of Eric and Laura's tracks, but when I'm done, I'm left with an almost empty closet, a generic bedroom, and sweat dripping down my clothes. And just like that, I made a mental note to go to the mall tomorrow. I struggled to slide the zipper down the back, but my hands don’t reach.
Huffing, I spread my hips even further, trying to slide the zipper down and get rid of that tight blouse. Ugh, it doesn't work.
… But the apartment doorbell rings loudly, and I grunt, feeling my blood bubbling.
It's not enough to send me roses at work, Eric still has the nerve to come to my apartment. I've even taken the trouble to completely block him from all networks, just to make sure he's unable to contact me in any way… Hah, I really can't believe it.
The doorbell sounds loudly again, and I close my eyes tightly. With my hands clenched and my bare feet pounding hard against the porcelain tile, I made my way to the door that I opened it abruptly.
I'm preparing my tongue to fire off the thousands of curses that heavens, not even in Eric's worst nightmares he would imagine me capable of saying… But my heart skips a beat, and my body stiffens, freezing in place.
It's not Eric who is on the other side of the door… It's Julian.
And he seems to be amused by my confused expression because he smiles at me and looks me up and down.
“What are you doing here?” Is all I can ask, pressing hard on the doorknob.
“Is this how you welcome your *only* friend?” He asks sarcastically, resting his hand on the door and leaning toward me, “I thought you could be lonely.”
“And I thought you were with some of your… *friends*.” I say this with bitterness, trying not to show that the way he leans in reminds me of when he kissed me on the terrace, and in his kitchen. It makes me remark that he's really taller than me, even though I wore low shoes for the first time, and now I wear heels at work. Julian is easily six feet tall, maybe more.
“I’m not meeting one now?” He feigns innocence, which makes me crunch my lips and look away.
“Well, you don't have to worry about this friend of yours… I'm fine.” I say, turning my eyes back to him, but I know my expression is giving me away. “Actually, I was getting ready to… go out…” I force a smile.
“Huh, really?” He mumbles thoughtfully.
“It's a waste to spend Friday home alone, you know that better than I do.”
“And where are you going? Drown your sorrows in drink again?”
I wrinkled my lips, “I hear that there's an exciting club…. I thought dancing would be nice.”
He studies me intently, then presses his palm against the door, causing it to open fully, as I make no point of stopping him.
“Dancing?” His voice is husky.
“Dancing.” I swallow dryly.
“That's fine with me…” He shrugs, “It's been a while since I've been to a club too.”
I frown, watching as he starts to walk into my apartment with an almost annoying informality. I cross my arms, watching him throw himself on my couch and turn on the TV.
“And who said you could go with me?”
Julian looks at me with a false innocence that makes my blood bubble.
“I'd have to come get you, anyway… isn't it better to go with you and keep an eye out?”
“Keep an eye out?” I give a sarcastic laugh. “You sound like my father.”
My claim causes him to stir restlessly, and his expression closes. I feel like I have touched on a sensitive subject, something he probably has been mulling over as well. So, I sigh defeated and close the door, walking towards him slowly and fearfully. Without thinking much about it, I throw myself on the couch as well, and curl up my legs, resting my chin on my knees.
“Have you given up dancing?” Julian asks without taking his eyes off the TV, a dull program about cooking. He stares at the screen intensely, and that makes it seem ten times more amazing than actually is. Perhaps the blonde hostess had caught his attention.
I rest my eyes on his face, studying the way his beard is threatening to grow, with its discreet blond strands, lighter than his hair. And I realize that I'm staring because he finally looks at me too.
We stare at each other like that for a few seconds, with only our breaths and the noise of the TV filling the room.
“Can you kiss me again?” I ask almost innocently, in a low, clear tone that I know has cooled his skin into a brief shiver.
“Angel…” The affectionate way he calls me escapes in a whisper, which I also feel trailing through my skin like electricity. I can see through his eyes that he's ready to say yes, to put me in his arms and take my lips. But I also see fear shining in his green irises, intensely enough to make me hold my breath.
I don't wait for him to say no, and slowly move my legs over him, bringing my knees down on the couch and around his body. Now I'm sitting on Julian's lap, holding his shoulders gently, watching the emotions overflow through his eyes like they're a TV itself — I watch the fears turn to surprise, and from surprise, they go to desire… A desire that burns intensely to the point that even with my eyes closed, I would be able to feel it.
He's hard under me.
“That's dangerous…” He murmurs lowly against my jaw, and I feel his teeth rub against my skin, searching for my chin, which inevitably lifts when I tilt my head back.
“You've kissed me before… twice,” I emphasize, moving my hips slowly, riding his erection, that is panties, skirt, pants away. “What's wrong with kissing me a third time?”
Julian grunts, gritting his teeth.
“Just one kiss… and nothing more.” I whisper, so low there's barely a voice, as I brush my lips lightly against his, tilting my body so that my breasts bristle against his chest.
I feel Julian's hand finally on my body, crossing my skirt which, because of the posture, has risen so high on my thighs that it barely covers my ass. And the way he slides up my legs brings delicious shivers to my skin, making me arch.
“Just a kiss…?” He asks, with his lips brushing against mine, moving his hands up my hips and around my waist, while the other searches through my long black hair, tangling with it to hold my black strands in a firm grip.
I know what he wants me to say…
Julian wants me to lie.
He wants sweet lies to burst from my lips, wants to be deceived by my husky voice. And if it were before… seven, four years ago, or before that Monday, I wouldn't be able to say anything but the truth.
But the new me — this one, now, can give Julian whatever he desires.
“Yes, just one more kiss.”