24- Into the car, energies...

We arrived at her car and she disarmed the alarm on her truck. Her car was a beauty, flawless inside and out. I didn't know anything about brands, but her truck probably cost twice as much as Patrick's car.

Genuine leather… - I whispered, caressing the back of the passenger seat, feeling the leather and running my nails over it. I lowered my eyelashes and felt the synesthesia of everything that surrounded and made up the interior of the vehicle, and then I shivered at the thought of the touch of her hands.
Yes - She said seriously.
Wow, this leather is really nice - I whispered, caressing the seat back. And it was true, the leather was smooth and decorated with silver buttons along the edges of the seat, and it fit perfectly, like a fitted leather jacket that hugs a body - I like your car - I admitted.
Thank you - she responded, and she smiled from ear to ear, filling me with pleasure. I liked making her smile. A scent similar to Chanel No. 5 mixed with the air conditioning, and that feeling of being in a river chewing on sugar cane that some air fresheners have.
What are you doing? - She asked, watching me roll down the window and look at my lips.
I'm putting on some lipstick.
Why? - She asked, a sparkle in her eyes.
Because I like to have red lips - I replied, looking at myself in the small, square mirror. I had darker under-eye circles than usual, but my face had acquired a strange glow. My skin was glowing as if I were covered in frost, and my blonde hair had lightened at the ends. Maybe Milton's presence made me feel happy and my body recognized it, awakening my star nature.
I like your red lips too - she admitted - I don't usually wear much makeup; it causes allergies, I only use eyeliner.
Well, that's okay - I accepted. I leaned towards the rearview mirror and then pressed my lips against the small mirror.
Now you'll see my red kiss and think that I don't wear it on my lips.
Are you always so witty?
Black eyeliner suits you. I'm sure people always tell you that, so it's not news; your eyes are very beautiful. Black enhances their beauty.
Thank you.
You're welcome. You inspire me to do those things. I like knowing that you remember me in some way - I said in a voice like a purring kitten. She blushed and her cheeks puffed up, hiding a smile.
Do you want some chocolate? - She asked, opening the glove compartment on my lap. The movement of her hands aroused my desire to fuck once again, which I hadn't felt since Leslie's birthday when we kissed. Meb took out a chocolate and placed it in the palm of my hand. A chocolate bonbon wrapped in purple paper.
Thank you, how delicious - I responded, unwrapping it. I ate the chocolate and she watched me silently, sucking on the dark bonbon.
You're a bit quiet today - I said.
I'm focused.
On what? - I wanted to know, interested.
On not kissing you - she replied in a thread of a voice.
And why are you focused on not kissing me? Don't you want to anymore? - I looked at her offended. She let out a laugh - And how exaggerated you are, I highly doubt that requires so much concentration.
Seriously, it's difficult.
Um, okay - I whispered, feeling my cheeks burn. I opened the glove compartment and put away the chocolate wrapper. I pulled out a stack of papers, medical prescriptions, and notebooks that Meb kept there.
What are you doing? - She asked, with an incredulous smile.
I'm looking for traces of possible opponents or ex-girlfriends, romantic post-its, photographs, a stuffed kitten… - I told her. She laughed and looked at me tenderly. I liked her way of being, she never seemed to get angry at my eccentricities and antics.
Actually, I'm looking for a pen, sorry. Do you have one handy?
Yes, it's among the papers. And my ex-girlfriends don't give me those kinds of gifts, Dasy. - She replied, still watching me mess up the papers.
Really? - I looked at her surprised.
How old are you? - she asked, observing me with a hand on her cheek while hiding a smile.
I'm twenty-six - I put her papers back in the glove compartment and took the pen along with a blank notebook.
I got different kinds of gifts, you know… - she added.
What is this? - I asked, seeing the little bag full of twigs and green leaves… it looked like…
My herb.
Oh, I see.
Do you smoke?
No - I replied, putting her herb back in the glove compartment.
It's obvious - she said with a sweet, unbearably sweet tone, looking at me tenderly.
Have you ever smoked pot? - She asked me in perfect English.
Yes, I have.
Do you want to smoke right now? - She looked at me with confidence, calmly. I stayed silent for a few seconds, not sure if she was serious.
Are you serious?
Yes, I am.
Really? - I asked confused. She remained silent, looking at me expressionless. Does she really allow herself to get high and then attend to patients? I thought.
Well, I'm not ready to ruin my girl anti-drug reputation in front of a libertine doctor with black nail polish. Maybe later. - I winked at her.
Okay - she said, smiling.
Do you really smoke when you work? - I wanted to know, still confused.
No, Dasy, I was just teasing you. It was obvious.
Oh, well, I didn't know… it didn't seem so obvious to me - I admitted. Meb caressed my hands. The tips of her fingers awakened my carnal desire once again.
What did you receive for your birthday then? Weed? How romantic… I could give you weed… if I knew where to get it - Milton started laughing.
I don't need anyone to give me weed, darling, and I can give you some whenever you want to smoke.
Thank you, how tempting.
You should know what kind of gifts I like, it's evident in your gaze.
No, I don't know. Tell me. Maybe… I don't know… umm… books, perhaps?
Yes, I know you know - We looked at each other in silence and my heart started beating fast - I don't have love letters or those silly things, okay? - She added as she traced my chin and lips with her index finger. I closed my eyes and sighed, struggling to breathe, feeling her hands. They were soft, and sometimes I could feel them tickling my skin, making me glow.

Have you ever written a love letter? - I asked her. I moved away from her hands and took her wrist. It was fragile and thin, and her skin always seemed to be warm.
No.
Or were you ever given one? - I insisted.
No.
Oh… well.
It's not necessary - she said dryly - I think those things are emotional torture. After a relationship ends, you're left with a bunch of stuffed animals and bullshit to throw away.
Yeah… and you say that because you're used to torturing patients in the emergency room. You torture them physically, not emotionally.
It's preferable, physical pain over mental pain.
How old are you? - I wanted to know as I watched her take out her weed and pile the green twigs inside a pipe.
I'm thirty, well-lived years - A dark glow spread across the blue of her iris, making the air feel stifling inside his car.