I am sitting in the underground, the 24
hour computer lab on campus, writing my jurisprudence essay on concepts of
vigilante justice, printing versions, editing, changing, researching… It is
3am. You text me. “How is the essay kitten? You need sustenance. I am bringing
you sustenance. You at home?”
“It is f*cked! No, its okJ The underground” I write.
A hour later you appear. You give me your insouciant smile and look at
my outfit, pyjama pants, a white singlet, pens through my hair, ugg boots. You
are mildly amused.
“Come outside, you’ll need this” you say,
draping a strong leather jacket around my shoulders.
I accept gratefully and we head outside,
where under the nearest tree there is a picnic blanket and basket.
“Oh!” I say. I am touched. “Is that… For
me?” I pull you to the ground and your breath is misty in the cool obsidian
night. You come down to the blanket on top of me, slipping your hands inside the
jacket you wrapped me in. Your hands slide up my waist and over my chest. Your
mouth is searching across my neck and face in an instant and I enjoy the feel
of you. I have been isolated in my solipsistic academic cave for about 8 hours.
I kiss you back and wrap my legs around
you. You are getting heated, and I sense you thinking about logistics, feeling
the waist of my pyjama pants, trying to lift my singlet.
“Easy tiger” I say disentangling. I kiss
you on the forehead and sit up. “So, this is very sweet. Its nice to see you!”
You sit up, and elegantly compose yourself.
“I brought coffee and muffins” You pull a
thermos and two cups from the basket and a container which is releasing a warm
chocolate fragrance. You start pouring coffee.
“You baked! That is too cute.”
“You need to eat”
“Thank you” I smile and slurp my coffee. I
am dying for a cigarette but wont, out of respect. I like kissing you.
“Lets get away this weekend. Want to go to
Launceston? I was thinking of visiting my mum. I can drive or we could go by
bike.” Years later I would realise how good you were at this, not in a
manipulative way but in a nice way [Lets hang out. Shall we go to the beach or
the markets? Im coming over. Want to stay in and paint or shall I take you
out?]
“Ok. Drive I think. Its winter.” I kiss you
again on the forehead and finish my coffee. “Is it cool if I come? I haven’t
met your mum”
“She will love you. She will think you're
crazy.” We star gaze and wax lyrical, I tell you about my essay, you tell me
about your night. You start looking at me in an odd way.
“I have to go sunshine. Wish me luck.” I
can see that you want something more, even if its only a teaser. Behind us is
the library where we had crazy sex yesterday, in the archaeology section. I am
on my knees and leaning over you, I put my face close to yours, whisper
something filthy in your ear and run my hands gently around your shoulders,
down your body. I stop when I get south and you kiss me again, pull me onto you.
For a moment I think maybe we should just play, it would be so easy.
Some Korean guy who has been playing
computer games in the Underground all night emerges and the door slams shut
behind him.
I resist the urge to make racial slurs
about Kim Jong-Il. This guy has been driving me mental for a while though.
“Beautiful White Russian, I have to go.
Thank you for this”. With that I am off.
What a sweet thing to do, I think. How
wonderful to have friend like you. When you are gone I can feel you and I think
I made the wrong decision.