Chapter 34 Chapter 33: A Walk in the Night
When we stepped out of the warm, spice-scented café, the cold night air hit my face like a splash of reality. It was only then I noticed just how much of the rich, dark vin I had drunk; the world had taken on a soft, slightly blurred edge, and my limbs felt loose and light. Silver, sensing my slight unsteadiness, simply took my hand and laughed, a sound that seemed to sparkle in the chilly air. Instead of a cautious crossing, she danced us across the road, a playful, weaving motion that defied the orderly lines of the pavement. For now, the traffic could wait; the entire world could wait. There was only us.
We walked on, our arms linked, until we passed another bar. Its doors were thrown open, and a vibrant, pulsing rhythm poured out into the street, saturating the night. It was a specific, infectious number that Silver must have loved, because her face lit up with instant recognition. With a mischievous grin, she kicked off her elegant heels, letting them dangle from her fingers. Right there on the cobblestones, under the glow of a streetlamp, she began to dance. It wasn't a performance for anyone else; it was a pure, unadulterated expression of joy.
I laughed, the sound bubbling up from a place of sheer happiness, and joined that wonderful Polli. We danced without a care, two figures swaying and spinning to the music that wasn't really ours, much to the amusement and occasional cheers of passers-by. We must have danced through three or four songs, lost in the beat and in each other, until the music inside shifted to something slower.
Breathless and glowing, Silver smiled, her heels still in her hand. She stepped close, wrapped her arms around my neck, and pulled me into a deep, long-lasting kiss that tasted of vin, night air, and pure, uncomplicated happiness. Then, still barefoot, she laughed again, took my hand, and with a playful tug, dragged me on down the street towards the warm, waiting sanctuary of her place.
We couldn't keep our hands from each other. The short walk from the street to her building's entrance was a feverish blur. We were kissing again before we could even fumble for the front door key, my back pressed against the cool brick wall, her body warm against mine. I spun us around, leaning into her as she fumbled in her purse, kissing her passionately with her back to the heavy wooden door.
Suddenly, the door swung inwards with a groan, and we fell inwards in a tangle of limbs and surprised laughter, landing in a heap on the interior mat. Our kiss broke as we giggled uncontrollably, only to be immediately scolded by a not-so-happy elderly Polli who had been trying to exit. She stood over us, a silhouette of disapproval.
"There are other people that live here, you know!" she huffed, her voice sharp with annoyance.
This only made the laughter explode from us with renewed force. We made no move to get up, just lay there in the doorway, wrapped in each other's arms, shaking with mirth. The woman tried to step over us with a sigh of exasperation. "When I was a young Polli." we heard her begin, but she cut herself off, muttering the rest as she hurried off down the street.
Silver pulled back just far enough from our kiss to look into my eyes, her own sparkling with mischief. But not before she deliberately, playfully, bit my tongue, a sharp, surprising nip that sent a jolt of pure electricity through me.
Then, in a pitch-perfect imitation of the old Polli's crotchety tone, she whispered, "When I was a young Polli..." She paused for dramatic effect, her face inches from mine. "I fucked my Polli-friends' brains out!" she roared in the same faux-elderly voice, collapsing into laughter against my chest.
Somehow, still laughing and breathless, we managed to untangle ourselves enough to stumble inside and head for the staircase leading to her apartment. But the passion was too urgent, the giddy energy too high. One of us, I'm not sure who, tripped on the bottom step, and the other tumbled down with them. Instead of getting up, we just started kissing again right there in the middle of the stairs, a dim bulb above us casting long shadows. Our excitement escalated, our hands, which had been content with holding and caressing, now slid urgently under clothes, my fingers finding the smooth skin of her back beneath her dress, her hands slipping under my jogging top, her touch cool and possessive on my feverish skin. The world had shrunk to the space of that stairwell, to the taste of her mouth and the frantic beating of our hearts.
“No, not here,” she moaned into our tight kiss, the words a hot, breathless plea against my lips. My fingers had just found the soft, promising elastic of her underwear, and the urge to continue right there on the stairs was a powerful, magnetic pull. But her words broke the spell. With a shared, shuddering gasp, we pulled ourselves apart, our bodies protesting the sudden separation. We were left breathless, foreheads pressed together, gathering the willpower to traverse the last few meters to her door.
We stumbled the final steps down the hallway, a clumsy, intertwined mess of desperate laughter and unspent desire. Just as Silver fumbled with her key, the distinct click of a lock sounded from down the hall. Another door swung open, framing a different neighbour, this one looking tired and irritated in a bathrobe.
“What’s all the racket out here?” the old Nate grumbled, squinting at us in the dim hallway light.
“Sorry!” we chirped in perfect, guilty unison, our voices high with a mixture of apology and stifled laughter.
He just stared, unamused, as Silver finally managed to slide the key home and turn the lock. We practically fell through the door into the welcome darkness of her apartment. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, locking out the world and the disapproving neighbours, the tension broke. We both slid down the back of the door to the floor, collapsing into a heap of raucous, helpless laughter that echoed in the small entryway. The absurdity of the journey, the near-misses, and the sheer, unbridled joy of finally being alone together erupted out of us in waves of pure, cathartic glee.
Our hands and bodies found each other again in the comforting dark of her apartment, moving by memory and touch. We stumbled away from the door, a single, clinging entity, squeezing against each other as if trying to merge into one form. My face was buried in the warm, fragrant curve of her neck when a sudden, sharp moment of clarity pierced the pleasant haze of wine and desire.
A wave of self-consciousness washed over me. The memory of my frantic run, the sweat, the grime of the city, and the clinical smell of the clinic still felt like a film on my skin. I was acutely aware that I was bringing the entire chaotic day into this sacred space.
I slowly, reluctantly pulled back just enough to speak, my voice a husky whisper against her lips. "I stink," I murmured, the admission bursting the bubble of passion. "Let me get a waterdrop first."
Silver let out a soft, understanding sigh but didn't release me entirely. She rose on her toes and reached for the wall, her fingers fumbling for a moment before finding the light switch.
Click.
The sudden, harsh overhead light flooded the small entryway, making us both blink. We were caught in the glare, clothes dishevelled, hair a mess, flushed and breathless. For a second, we froze, feeling exactly like two naughty children who had been discovered in the middle of some mischief.
She smiled, a slow, tender smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. "Okay," she said, her voice full of a warmth that made my heart ache. "But be quick." She leaned in, brushing her lips against mine in a promise. "I miss you already."
The sweetness of it, the sheer want, in her words, made it almost impossible to move. But the need to wash the day away was now a pressing urgency. I pulled myself away with one last, deep, lingering kiss, a kiss that held the promise of everything to come, before turning and heading down the short hallway towards the bathroom, the sound of my own heartbeat loud in my ears.
I tore my clothes off, letting the sweaty, grimy fabric fall to the floor in a heap. I didn't bother adjusting the temperature, just dove under the stream of the waterdrop. The hot, almost scalding water was a shock, a baptism. I let it pound against my scalp and run in sheets over my skin, eyes closed, seeking not just cleanliness but a purging of the day's horrors. The steam filled my lungs, and I focused on the heat, willing it to burn away the lingering fog of vin and sober me up for the night I truly wanted to remember.