"How I (didn't) Ruin Valentine's Day" (618 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.95 on 22 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by kaos-king (antius777) (View user info) at 2007-02-07 07:51:36 EST
Lying on the couch, my neck begins to ache at the angle it's positioned at. I think about shifting, but then I see her sigh a little as the faintest smile plays across her lips. With the slightest turn of her head, a single brown curl falls down her face and rests against her cheek.
I stare at her, examine her there on the green couch. She's lying on her stomach, ever so turned to her left side, with her knees bent. Her head and shoulders are propped up on a mound of pillows and blankets, her breath both even and slow. She had changed into a pair of my pajama pants and an old tee shirt. They are enormous on her, the subtle curves of her petite body hiding under folds of cotton.
We had been out at the bars again, drinking ourselves into excess in protest of the Hallmark indoctrinated holiday. I vaguely remembered listening to her go off on a rant about the socio-political ramifications of celebrated sexism due to the events usually practiced on the day. More intently, was the way I was watching her move, her slender body accentuated by the black pinstriped pants and ribbed maroon turtleneck. She held court over all those in attendance, her beauty and brilliance something awe-inspiring. The graceful way she held her White Russian, a subdued chuckle as the glass came to her delicate mouth and her blue eyes darting my way at the last second under those thick, dark lashes.
The battered old station wagon that had been her only vehicle in years was broken down again, and she needed a way home. I offered her a ride and on the way to the car she mentioned she was hungry. Getting her in my small green car, I started the engine with the hopes of the heater keeping her as warm as possible while I scraped the snow from the windows. As I made my way to the passenger side, she blew me a kiss through the icy glass.
Without a word once I had returned to the interior of the vehicle, I drove my car towards the street my apartment resided on. She said nothing, accepting our destination. Carefully I navigated back to the east end of our town, the snow having built from inches to feet while we had drank. The headlights guided us through the falling white and after I tossed my finished cigarette out the cracked window, her hand found mine.
We fumbled our way across the parking lot, the alcohol in our systems making the beaten, frozen ground even more treacherous. Falling into each other, the external steps to the second floor stood there in an ominous fashion, the lights surrounding the complex having all crept out to black. Arms around each other, we giggled to one another in the night, step by step up to my apartment.
Once inside, she began to peel the layers of outerwear off, dropping her scarf and gloves to be later investigated by my cats. I tried to remain impassive as the maroon sweater slid up and off, revealing a thin, sheer camisole beneath. I could hear the buttons being undone to her pants, the top just starting to slip past her narrow hips as she disappeared into my bedroom. The distinct sound of clanging metal echoed out of the room, the sleep clothing she had often stolen from me before, being removed from the aging sculpture that squatted in the corner opposite of my bed.
I turned to my cluttered kitchen, a few dirty dishes still lingering in the sink from where my brother had left them. I spun the two necessary dials on my electric stove, leaving the metal rings to grow red hot under the cast iron pot and teflon skillet. Two chicken breasts had defrosted in the refrigerator, the bag of oriental vegetables crisp in the freezer and the rice patiently waiting in the cupboard. The door to the master bathroom closed shut behind me as I procured all the ingredients along with a Schezuan Mix and soy sauce.
Rice was poured into the boiling pot of water, the chicken washed and neatly sliced into bite sized pieces. I was breaking apart the vegetables, separating the broccoli stems from the dense water chestnut pellets when she came up behind me. Her slender arms wrapped around me and I could feel the weight of her small breasts pressed up against my back. Dropping the bag of frozen food, I wiped my hands off on a dish towel and turned around slowly to kiss her on the forehead. She buried her face in my neck, her lips grazing my collar bone.
After a moment of holding onto me tightly, she disengaged and floated over to my computer desk. While I went back to preparing the food, I mentally calculated what she would put on to play in my I-Tunes. She had recently discovered Sigur Ros, but had been obsessed with Tegan & Sara for the last few weeks. Surprisingly, the quiet voice from Bright Eyes came dancing from my speakers and she glided, obviously pleased, over to the green couch.
I heard the sound of her cigarette spark up as I poured the vegetables over the brown chicken. The rice got a quick stir and then I made my way over to where she had stretched out on the green sofa. My cigarettes sat at the far end of the coffee table, in front of the brown couch that sat perpendicular to her. Rounding the small wooden table, she motioned me to come and sit by her feet. Her thin ankles raised enough for me to sit underneath them, my smoke tip exploded red from my zippo and I ran my fingertips up and down her lower leg.
We sat like this for the entire course of our cigarettes, the long draws of smoke expertly punctuated by the occasional glance at each other; our quiet smiles saying enough at three in the morning. My index and middle finger tracing the curve of her leg bone down to the edge of her sock and back up onto her skin. She growled at me as my hand found the barest stubble on her leg and she pulled back playfully. Grinning mischievously, I pinched her leg lightly, put out the butt of my cigarette and returned to the kitchen.
The rice needed stirring again and the vegetables had unfrozen. I added the Schezuan flavoring to the skillet, mixing the deep red sauce into the brown meat and colorful Asian blend. The smallest bit of garlic powder and cracked black pepper was sprinkled into the concoction as Connor crooned "This Is The First Day Of My Life" in the background. The rice was stirred once more and pulled from the heat, the stir-fry dumped into a serving dish. I gathered up two thick, light blue porcelain bowls and the accompanying forks.
I walked into the living room to ask her how much she wanted, only to find her sound asleep.
Laughing to myself, I shook my head in amused defeat and crept back to the kitchen. I prepared an amount of food I thought would be appropriate in one of the light blue bowls, covered it in plastic wrap and placed it in my fridge. The rest I mixed into the serving dish to be consumed at some later date by my brother or myself. I allowed Bright Eyes to play on as I made a quick clean up.
Finished and back in the living room, I sat on the edge of the brown couch and lit up another cigarette. I had turned down the volume on my I-Tunes but let it continue to play. The hints of acoustic guitar tip-toed through my warm apartment as I contemplated the complexities of the relationship I had with the slumbering young woman before me. Eventually, I realized that such things really didn't matter and I crawled onto my side.
And now my neck aches, but I don't choose to move. I stare at that brown curl that lays across her cheek and think about how glad I am to just have her in my life. Finally, my ribs start to hurt and I have to reposition myself. Turning, I stretch, my hands reaching out above my head, my eyes closed in that silent moment of chasing comfort.
During those brief seconds, I feel slim fingers weave around my right ones. I open my eyes to see her arm high, her hand in mine again. Her deep blue eyes find mine, a weary smile in them that matches the one that has found her lips. We each lay spread out on the couches, our fingers clasped and she gives a little squeeze.
"Happy Valentine's Day," she says.
User Reviews
Submitted by sideshow (user info) at 2007-03-06 17:35:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Another very well written story.
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-02-08 02:19:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Eloquent.
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-02-08 00:12:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by DrogoRoch (user info) at 2007-02-07 11:34:45 (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice one chap.
I feel like hugging someone now.
Submitted by Falafel (user info) at 2007-02-07 23:16:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2007-02-07 08:31:35 (#)
Ranking: 2
*sniff* I love you man! *embrace*
=================================
No.. I don't think you understand.. I LOVE you, maaaaaan..? *baked as hell*
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-02-07 20:37:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well, did she co..
Oh never mind. So sweet, you. I loved it.
That Bright Eyes song is one of feety's favorites.
Submitted by JulsInsane (user info) at 2007-02-07 20:35:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
definate warm and fuzzy material.
It's funny I was just thinking of that Bright Eyes song last night, probably Satan's holiday around the corner made me think of it.
and I especially liked this line:
"She growled at me as my hand found the barest stubble on her leg and she pulled back playfully." Because I HATE THAT, why do men LOVE to find that tiny spot you missed.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-02-07 18:51:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
thanks for giving me an idea for dinner tonight
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-07 15:44:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
What a fuckin pussy.
You shoulda given her the business at the end. That woulda made a good story.
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2007-02-07 15:27:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by ticklish_squirrel (user info) at 2007-02-07 12:58:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Aww, lover! You didn't even have to add anything sexual to this, it was sensual in it's simplicity. Brilliant!
Submitted by Susie_Derkins (user info) at 2007-02-07 12:14:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Cosy scene.
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-02-07 12:01:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by DrogoRoch (user info) at 2007-02-07 11:34:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice one chap.
I feel like hugging someone now.
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2007-02-07 11:32:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I kept waiting for the handjob at the end to make it feel cheap and dirty, like we wanted it to be.
Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2007-02-07 09:26:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Too much cooking :(
But very good.
I'm torn.
Submitted by particle_man58 (user info) at 2007-02-07 08:35:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
That made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside
Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2007-02-07 08:31:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
*sniff* I love you man! *embrace*
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2007-02-07 08:29:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by LittleMonster (user info) at 2007-02-07 08:17:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Feeling squishy. this fitted my mood perfectly.
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2007-02-07 08:16:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-02-07 08:13:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Um.
You drove drunk?
What's with the product placement?
"thin ankles" makes me think of anorexia, or starving children who look like their limbs will snap if they're not careful. Suggests "slender".
All in all though, not bad.
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2007-02-07 07:54:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment