A final afternoon in our world of temporal disregard, this time in the land of meteorological non-delight. The day’s mood was consumed by a subtle yet haunting dread which anticipated our divergence the following afternoon. A prolonged car ride away from my home that was not a home. The car was otherwise comfortable and his quiet snoring was amusing. It was a fresh, half-sunny, half-overcast, afternoon. The rays of colourless light were shining pity between the clouds, on our disappointment at the close of our three-week episode of isolation.
Arriving at the driveway of the uninspiring hotel was a partial relief that ended the awkward tension between the driver and us. The reception appeared as a temporary desk transformed into an open office that occupied the space of something which called itself a lobby. The hotel presented itself as inhospitable as the plains of overgrown vegetation that surrounded the airport, so much so that apart from its superstructure and accompanying expressway, it seemed to blend into the barren wasteland that surrounded Heathrow. A single floor’s elevator ride and a moderate walk through a damp hallway away was our room. Its interior was continuous with the unremarkable corridor. A woodiness lent some comfort to the room, of which the bathroom stole almost half the space. A minuscule desk with a humble chair sat on the carpeted floor, which was damp from the leaking bathroom which also wet my socks. Once our belongings and our selves were in the room, there was little space for anything else, but I guess there did not need be.
Some sunlight which persisted outside shone into the room, but despite a lack of clouds, the light and the room felt enveloped in a grey blanket. The air on the other side of the window seemed thin, as though it could not support life. Some loose shrubbery congregated in a small corner by the wall of the building opposite, somehow proving there was enough vitality in the air to sustain the last remaining traces of the natural world in the no man’s land. I could not decide whether the room was cozy or whether it was slowly threatening to suffocate us.
After putting our lugagge down, he sat on the edge of the bed and stared at me with his adorable brown eyes, while momentarily biting his soft red lips. His playful seductiveness illuminated my sensory perception and made me decide that the room was indeed cozy with him in it. I had to liberate his irresistible lips with my own and so I perched right next to him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders as our mouths felt each other’s. We snacked on some fruit and shrimp which we had brought with us on our journey. He had a tea, I had a coffee, and we shared a smoothie. Sitting on the edge of the tiny chair, one of the shrimp slipped from the grip of my fork, and it with its water fell onto the side of my backpack within an absurd, humorous second. A small idiosyncratic moment engraved into the fabric of the bag, which was already fraying with the wear that had accumulated over the years and miles.
We laid on the bed for some hours, dazed and energised at the same time. Our carnal desire for each other was steadily increasing and at some point we curbed our hunger by arranging dinner downstairs, where we were told to order from the phone in the room from an extensive menu of 4 choices. We soon picked up and ate an unhealthy yet savourable meal.
We laid on the bed immersed in each other, covered by a haze of melancholia that made the back of my throat feel tight. My eyes were covered by a thin lustre that formed at the perturbance of our inevitable separation, but which also glowed with my appreciation of the beauty of his physical and mental form. A hidden unsettlement which I could not let rise to the surface. We entertained ourselves into the night with our own words and some amusing videos.
Existing so close to one another on the bed for so long, we intermittently teased each other with our touch and our tongues. Our craving for each other eventually escalated as we began to undress. He consumed me passionately while satisfying my appetite at the same time. We basked in a post-coital euphoria where his upper body laid in the cradle of my left arm. His being rested so perfectly next to mine.
I caress his smooth skin, longing to connect with his graceful soul. We lie on our sides, staring into the depths of each other’s eyes, my arms hold him tight and close as though I am clinging onto the last glimmer of hope in the perseverance of compassion amidst the desolate wasteland of my world. His body radiates an unregulated warmth next to my own, underneath the soft blankets, our heat dissolving off into the crispy air of the cold room, as we slowly drift into the dreamworld.
We awoke in the morning and he hurried downstairs to pick up a small breakfast for us to share later in the day. He returned to the bed and we continued to enjoy the warmth of each other for some more hours. His sensual existence pressed against mine, quickly reactivating my carnal desires and this time I consumed him while also quenching this thirst. An hour later we left the hotel room.
We killed the overly ample time of the afternoon by commuting between terminals and dropping off baggage. In those moments we were able to sneak some unobserved kisses. We dreaded as the time for him to progress to the airside approached. We shared extended hug. Part of me feared to feel him filter through my arms and dissolve into the wide yonder of the impatient world, while the other part of me pulled him as tight as possible to sense his calming and ever-present aura closer to my own soul. After that moment, I knew that I would crave to feel him in my arms and that my heart would not rest until exactly that would happen again.
No comments:
Post a Comment