Part VII
The entrance of the restaurant introduced a chilled atmosphere intended to humor her horripilation. She felt the stubble on her legs burgeon. She found a spot at the end of the bar, in case he hadn’t yet arrived. The bar was crowded enough where she didn’t need to worry about the bartender asking her what she would like to drink and her needing to explain that she’s just waiting for someone and didn’t want anything at the moment. She looked in the mirror that ran the length of the wall and pushed her hair around in a nervous attempt to look ready, all the while inspecting her face and neck.
She took her time preparing for the evening, giving each moment a bit of fantasy. The mascara brushed hope between hairs. Between them and us. She couldn’t decide if the space was exhaustive or empty. Or did it settle the way cubes of ice sit on top of one another waiting to run to the bottom?
She worried that the wax on her lips might cling to his surface, so she parted them and clamped onto a napkin, letting the rocking friction lift parts of pigment. She looked at the cracked, crimson upper lip that defined half the napkin, its other half a corner-crossing edge away. Once again, she looked around to make sure she hadn’t missed him, and the eyes of other men met hers. She saw vindication. The code continues.
She decided she would use the restroom and then sit down at a table since the time they agreed upon was slowly approaching. Pushing the bathroom door open she watched the reflected self creep into the dim den of stall, her heels echo-locating a true self. Her drips sounded throughout the responsive room. A final inspection and ordering of thoughts led her hand to the grip on the door and as she opened it she stepped into a cold confidence only to edge a corner into him, an embarrassing heat.
Excuse me.
Part VIII
The hotness grew worse with each step, the slightest contact, every movement. His legs built a band around the knees that limited his mobility to tiny toe taps that slowly relaxed into the ball, the weight of the heel in the arch. Upon entering the restaurant he asked the hostess if his guest had arrived and she directed him to the bar. He slid his soles across the wooden planks hoping to contain the steps and take time to look around and find her.
As he closed the gap between himself and the bar, his bowels observed the beginnings of relaxation and prompted memories of the dietary oversights he had allowed and would atone for. Some gas slipped out from between his cheeks and the humid puff heated the jut enough to surprise him into a clench that smashed the raw red into itself. Holding himself in place he hoped that the butt belch was enough to ease his entrails, but the urge continued its pressures. He prayed for a private restroom. He prayed for a companion. Restroom.
Walking down the short hall he could see the M on the door and a steel panel where one was to direct his push. He passed the corner on his right, and saw the door behind it open quickly and birth a rapidly clicking figure. He didn’t have the stride to step out of the way so he began to turn toward her and noticed that she wasn’t looking anywhere but down. He strained every muscle in each leg to anchor his body and squeezed the bunches of sock between his toes and balls to hold tightly his position.
Her head jolted up and theirs eyes met once the closeness became contact. Looking into his eyes she bounced off his shoulder and pulled her purse in, reactively. He reached a hand out to make sure his resistance didn’t force her back too far, and extended his voice through a pardon.
Oops, sorry about that.
Oh, it’s you. I was just using the restroom before sitting down at our table.
Likewise. I’ll be right out.
He turned away from her and began to inch toward the M door. The distance between them grew with sound and impact. The door closed behind him and he gazed at the reddened sheepishness. Oh, the things he yearned. He walked to the stall and unrolled and folded a generous strip of toilet paper. He took the paper and ran it under water until it was soaked through, then placed the paper between praying hands and pushed the excess water into the other hand and down his wrists. His insides were unhappy and the unrest would continue.
Once he sat down he could feel the chilled air in the bowl, but the flames continued to rise. Loosening the flexed abdomen and arching his back to further open his bowels, his intestine began to force the solid through the rectal ring of fire. He clenched after every inch of waste that pushed and pulled at the provoked blood bunch. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to relax and what relief dreams of loosened muscles seemed to provide, the cringe was automated. Each time he winced and recoiled the leavings, he squeezed the mass and refused to let go until his intestine spoke again. The pain in his abdomen grew with each unfulfilled loosening and he decided on a forceful push to reach an end. When the movement returned, he squeezed his knees with either hand and pushed what remained inside out, gnashing his teeth at the thought of the mashing lumps.
He settled into the open seat and let the pain resolve. He took the wet toilet paper and gently ran it over the ballooned knot, grazing with the caution of a new father. Softness is a gravel collusion. The red smudge on the wet paper veined out toward the white, contained infinity.
Part IX
She walked back to the table a little embarrassed and aroused. He resisted her motion with such firmness and potency. She had only felt him coming in her delay. The moment their eyes aligned was the moment their bodies connected. The presence he carried was unwavering. He could create a distance by seeing her. His smell stuck to her for a few seconds after union, dissipating as she walked towards an empty table and settled herself down.She watched the hallway to the bathrooms closely to observe his approach. He emerged from the little inlet and began to step to her, raising his head slowly to find exactly where she was sitting. She saw his calculating. She noticed a careful, unhurried confidence. He held and protected his space without assertion. He saw her almost immediately once he lifted his head, but the speed of his steps never changed. A waiting game that sort of tested her patience, especially in the obviousness of her study.
He even took his time sitting down: straightening his back and pushing into the frame until his triceps showed through the shirt, not removing his hands from the sides of the chair until every ounce of his weight had settled in. His deep breath came out slowly as she watched the relaxation wash over his entirety. He was as nervous as she was. He looked at her and smiled. She smiled back and they began to relax.
There were so many things she enjoyed about his company: his pensive demeanor, the consideration evident in every movement, and the space left for mystery and intrigue. His answers seemed brief and quickly segued into questions focused on her, without deception. Together they navigated conversations that left both of them smiling and invited their server to hint connection. The flattery melted them further into their boozy comfort.
They closed out the restaurant and stood together under the awninged entrance, both looking out into the street. The mutual feelings floating around them brought either set of eyes closer and closer to a realization. She set into motion with words. Except that when she was about to turn and release the ideas waiting on her tongue, her toe caught the edge of the concrete and a gravitational decent began. As she timbered towards him he seemed startled into a catch. He was ready or not.
He held her; relief. The intimacy had been suggested all night, and it finally became. The oxytocin stupefied further. With bodies bridged, she leaned into him and placed her closed, pursed lips on his. The vermillion swell. There was so little between that between became shared in adrenaline and endorphins and serotonin. She felt his hands on her waist and a pull brought her center closer. The slit of her mouth began to open to expose a tender muscle and when their tongues coalesced, the standing bodies liquified. She smelled him all around her. She felt his muscles loosen. Her breath increased as the oxygenated blood surged throughout. She exhaled vigorously through her nose but the remaining air exited her mouth uncontrolled.
One breath.