The story begins
Opening one of my favorite bottles of wine, the taste of alcohol, lingering on my tongue is one of the pleasures of life. The more I drank, the more I savored it. Maybe it was partly because of you entertaining me with your jokes. Laughter and joys of tears were non-stop for the evening. Soon the whole bottle of wine is gone. Mostly finished by me, as you knew how much I loved it. I am never a person to hold my drinks well, but for the past few months, I increased my threshold. Something that you are happy for me for.
You suggested opening another. I gladly agreed as the night was still young. Didn’t fancy the bottle you brought over. It was a bottle of red wine that would have gone nicely with a steak. Sadly, we were having dessert and that wine was overpowering my Lemon Chiffon Cake that you bought for me. That tangy lemon, that lightness in the sponge, that vanilla cream so flavorful. That slice of cake was what I needed to end the night with. You were observant, noticing that I’m a dessert girl. Just that thought of you observing me while we were out previously, sets me thinking. Slowly, the moon was up there in the sky and the bottle of wine dwindled by both of us.
It was time for you to head back, both of us stood up to clear the dishes. For that second, both of our eyes locked upon each other. For that few seconds, we did not leave each other sight and we kept silent. The peace and quiet that I have been searching for, is there, no awkwardness just comfortable. Intuition tells me to let things flow naturally, take it as it comes and let go when I have to.
That very second, you wanted to make a move on me. The amount of alcohol I drank is not enough to let things flow naturally.The next thing I know, your lips were on mine. Your kiss was not sexual, instead, it was a passionate one; a sincere kiss. For that moment, I did not resist the idea of being wanted and grew into your lips. When both of us were out of breath, our lips parted. A sense of guilt engulfed me, took over me as I knew my heart does not belong to you.
I pulled back and insisted that it was late. It’s time that you should head back. I was glad that you were not drunk driving, you had your driver to come pick you up safely. I walked you down. As we were in the lift heading towards the basement, you stepped closer to me. So close that I could smell the cologne off your body. Your warm, firm hands reached to my face and there you go giving me a small peck on my forehead. You didn’t stop there, you continued on by kissing me on my left cheek and was swift to place your tender lips onto my lips again.
Your intentions were clear. Just as the lift bell rings, signaling that we were about to reach the basement, you were unwilling to let go of me but you had to. Your dark brown eyes were so clear but with a hint of disappointment set right upon mine. You knew I needed my space to think things through. You let off my face and told me that you will text me when you are home and wished me goodnight.
The story is over; the end.