Reaching
I show up five minutes early in a collared shirt and nice-but-not-quite-dress pants; neither was comfortable, but today is about appearances. He had invited me to George's but I paid for the last date when it was just coffee, if he paid this time when it's more expensive, then, and I knew traffic was always bad. At T-minus two minutes I'm finding new and interesting ways to fidget with my hands and trying to convince myself that I didn't get the address wrong. One minute before and I feel naked under the imagined gaze of the entire restaurant, some clueless loser that got stood up.
He arrives four minutes late, all smiles.
"-no kidding, you listen to them too? Which songs do you like?"
"Well, 'Red Mirrors' changed my life is probably my favorite song of theirs."
"Oh." He pokes at his pork chop pensively, then shrugs. "I dunno, I didn't really like that whole album."
We end up talking all night, moving to a bar when the restaurant closes and to the park when the bars close. My voice is hoarse with the secrets I've shared, and silence settles on us like a fall of snow, softly iridescent. Something too new and timid to speak its name makes itself known within me, and the sunrise casts its ruby net across the sky...
All things considered, the date went well. He's smart enough and we have some interests in common, so we didn't run out of things to talk about or have too many awkward silences. I guess I'm still not sure if this is going anywhere, which bothers me but not too much. He offers me a ride home, which I accept, and his car is pretty clean which is probably a good sign. Still, despite how early it is I'm looking forward to getting through the door, taking a shower, and probably calling it a night early. As he approaches my building, it doesn't occur to me that I'm doing anything other than making conversation when I ask "so, what are you doing after this?"
His eyebrows lift a little bit. "Uh, not anything, really. I mean, I'm free, if you wanted me to come inside..."
"Oh, uh," I realize what I just said and, more on the momentum than anything else, add, "sure."
Our bodies form a small cave on the bedsheets between us, warmed by our breath. He laughs at how my hands are always cold and takes one in his own, rubbing heat into it. We converse in whispers, close enough that his voice is a physical thing, a deep rumble in his chest. At some point our eyes meet, inviting, accepting. His strong arm encircles me...
Suddenly, he's kissing me. I freeze up for a moment but then reciprocate. I'm constantly one move behind him, responding to his last move as he plays circles around me, and as I'm still sort of trying to figure out if I want this he reaches down, down my back and lower, squeezes, pulls me against him, and my decision is made.
He lies heavily across me afterwards, his breathing only gradually beginning to slow. I stroke his mane absentmindedly and he nuzzles his head into the hollow of my neck, ashamed of nothing, seeking nothing, only seeing simple affection and returning it in kind.
I have been entrusted with something precious.
Abruptly, he stops. "I'm sorry, I can't do this."
"Huh?" I miss it the first time, lost in the sensations. We're both shirtless by this point, but his pants haven't come off yet.
"It's... shit, I'm so sorry, I wasn't trying to lead you on, I just, I don't think this is a good idea." He's nervous, which confuses the hell out of me since he's the one who practically jumped on me when we walked in the door.
"I, uh, okay." I then add, somewhat timidly, "was it something I-"
"No, no, no, not at all," he says, emphatically enough that I think he might be lying but I'm not sure. "it's my own- you seem like a great guy, honestly, it's just... my own stuff."
"Oh, well, alright," I'm a little bit disappointed, but also oddly relieved. "Is it anything you want to talk about? Or we could just hang out, I could put a movie on-" He rubs the back of his neck
"Uh, I should really go. I have this thing-" He starts pulling his shirt on, heading back for the door.
"Did you still want to go to that show on saturday?" I call out after him.
"I'll text you!"
As I realize that that wasn't really an answer, the door slams shut. The silence takes a moment to fully settle over my apartment.
Maybe next time.