The encounter | Story

We agreed to meet and study and it was one of the things we did least. Late at night I decided to stay in that house, because of the transportation that was as unstable as I was at that moment.

There was a room with two beds and I ended up there, lying on the single one that was in the center of the room. Looking at the ceiling, thinking about all the coincidences that took me until that night and the countless nights when his image was part of my yearnings.

He looked at me from the door of the room with a half smile and roguish eyes.

-Well, apparently only the two of us are left.
-Yes, I'm dying of sleep - I said tired.
-I'm going to wash my clothes, I'll be back soon.

We were at a friend's house and everyone was sleeping, he left the room and then again I was alone, or as alone as you can be when your mind goes up. Have you ever felt that nothing ends up matching your thoughts? That everything always turns out to be different or deceptive. That's how I felt. I had seen it infinitely many times, I made him mine while I looked at him from afar and my selfish eyes did not give him escape.

About 10 minutes went by and when he entered the room without a shirt, both there, in that physical immediacy where I admired his cream colored torso, there was a canvas full of polka dots that when joining, constellations were formed in his chest, escaping to his neck and spreading to the outskirts of his mouth, his mouth; latent life, pink, lustful.
I looked at him somewhat surprised and he, noticing my expression said in an innocent tone:

-I had to wash all the clothes I could.
-I see - I said with a giggle. The truth was that the situation was a little funny.

He lay down on the bed next to the wall, the room was not very big. It would have been in gloom if it were not for the complicity of the reflection of the street, which let me realize how he looked at me in the distance. There was a certain tension, something rare but present and he, in an attempt to finish-or lengthen-the moment, said:

-Do you open a space in your bed while we talk?
-It's fine, although I'm not sure there's space for both of us. - I said after meditating a couple of seconds.

Both there, separated by such a minimal narrowness. He was an abyss that would have given any mountaineer some goosebumps. We started talking about banal things, it was around 1 AM and I was beginning to fall asleep, there was a minute of silence where I could only hear the beat of his breathing and in the most expected way, he broke the silence along with the vertiginous distance, in only 5 words.

-What happens if I kiss you?

Wreaking havoc inside me and my poor heart sounded like a thousand horses galloping aimlessly. How was that possible? I had never felt that brief drunkenness that in the end it was only translated in silence.

He approached so slowly that the moment became eternal, wrapping my face and neck with his fingers and lips, I could smell him, which does not look like anything I know; that smell that gave the sensation of being the beginning of an addiction. Then it stopped and everything was taste, his warm lips that were losing shyness in each touch. I forgot who he was and why we were there that night; even knowing that I appealed to all the possibilities for us to meet. His tongue frolicked playing with mine and the bed became small in that passionate kiss.

After giving him a pair of lost kisses on his bare back, drawing an imaginary triangle with my lips, I felt that that moment was going to stay etched in my memory forever.

Sensations embedded with fire in the deepest part of me.

The pictures and text belong to me.