The door is unlocked, and you let yourself in. You have the fish in hand and sit across from me at the dining table. We take a moment and our eyes meet. There was something in the air last night, wasn’t there? I laugh it off and pretend as though I didn’t ask you to stay in my bed. Instead, I change the subject to how the night started…a ten-minute debrief until one of us finds a reason to move to the couch.
This time, it was because the fish had to thaw, so we might as well watch a quick show. You sit in the center of my couch—my “spot,” to be exact. The perfect spot, so we would inevitably have to touch. I climb into the corner as you lean back into me. We unravel the blanket until both of us are covered. Maybe, if we’re covered, no one will know. We finally land on watching The Big Bang Theory. My head rests gently on top of yours. Your hair smells clean, and a calmness falls over me. My hands run over your chest, and I begin to fiddle with the strings of your hoodie.
We exchange little laughs here and there until one of us decides to speak. You make my heart race. Your brown eyes are nervous, but your voice is soft. I’ve always admired your eyes—the longing gazes we’d share. Everything on the outside screams that you’re rugged and hard, but your eyes are gentle. So gentle, it’s what makes you so beautifully human. I can’t help but stare and long for you to look at me like that for the rest of my life. I lean in and brush my lips against yours. As soon as your lips meet mine, I begin to melt.
It just all feels so natural as you grab my hand and lead me to the bedroom. Our clothes fall to the floor. My skin tingles as your hands trail over my bare body. My back now on the bed, you peer over me with a playful grin. Your hands now reaching down to my cheeks, planting a light kiss on my forehead. A sweet moment before I bite my lips and yearn for them to be on yours. Our lips meet, and I can’t help but wrap my whole entirety around you.
Everything is building up, and I pull away. Should we be doing this? We climb off one another and lie side by side. My room is dark, but the ceiling is still nice. Your breath is heavy. I lay my hand on your chest, hoping to ease your heart. Do you remember the night you first kissed me on the cheek? You smile with innocence, never imagining where we are now. We reminisce on the small minute details that led us to this point. It’s hard for us to resist, so we begin to lose ourselves within the sheets.
Satiated, we walk out into my dining room. I sit in the first chair. You walk further into the kitchen, checking to see if the fish is thawed. You pick up the knife behind you and place it next to the sink. Then pull off five paper towels and lay them on the counter. You pick up the first fish and start filleting. We banter back and forth. I finally admit that I think you’re handsome, and you deny it. You tease me for using you for fish, and I’m guilty.
The room is full of comfort and laughter, living simply in the mundane. It’s a glimpse into what our life could be, but never will be. We both stare at each other in silence, knowing this moment won’t last. In that moment, we soak in everything we could’ve been.
The silence becomes heavy. You only came over to fillet my fish. Look at the size of this fish’s eye. We both let out a laugh as we dance around each other’s feelings. The eyes are huge and poking out from the sides. It’s the last fish you clean before packing up. I walk you to the door, and we give each other one last, longing hug. You nudge your chin into my neck, taking in a deep breath. Our bodies pull away, and we neglect what we truly feel. Neither of us is willing to surrender, because that would make us fools—fools who actually believe in love.
The door shuts