Seedless Grapes

Summers. I hate everything about them. The temperature rises up to their thirties or forties, just ten degrees less than half a boiling point of water. I wonder what is our boiling point? I believe it is same as the water because we are 70 percent of it. But I don't think we will melt away. I think...we would sweat and sweat and sweat and then finally burst, with no warning whatsoever. And we won't splatter blood. It would all be mucus like plasma thickened from all that evaporation. Ok! I agree. I am exaggerating but don't you speak your brain out about something you hate and only love the things you love in silence?

I was sitting in an air-conditioned cafe, reading and thinking ill of summer, when I heard someone approach. I ignored them. My innate response to anyone crowding me in the heat. When they didn't budge. I tore my eyes from the book and had a good look at them, already cursing them for their audacity. Suddenly, a spark went inside my head; neurons worked hard and handed me a name. I smiled at her familiar face and willingly asked her to take the seat opposite mine.

One thing about me is that I remember and recognize every single one of my lovers and sex partners. She wasn't one of my sex partners. She was my lover. Was. An ex. An ex I never had sex with.

She was as dainty as ever, with a with a small stature, a curvy body, long hair to her waist and high-power spectacles aiding her eyes. An iced-americano was her choice of beverage. She fiddled with her handbag, seeming to never be at ease. I am one of those women, who intimidates everyone. So, I felt pity for her when we ran into each other like this. She looked at me, asking genetic questions and answering generic answers.

We had this thing where we could bask in each other's silence for extended periods of time without feeling the need to say anything. That's what we were doing and what we used to do. Silence with or around a possible mate could either lead to a primal itch to touch them or just a feeling of despair.

We were in a relationship for around a year or so before separating on a violent term, in which I decided to randomly stop talking to her after I was done basking in her innocence. She was a virgin when we first met and she remained a virgin when we broke up.

"Are you dating anyone?" I realized she was talking to me.

"Nope, summer is already bothering me enough. I don't need a human right now,"

She nodded, sipping her coffee. The ice clanked against the glass, giving me a sense of cool spring. It was always a delight, how she would understand my poetic gibberish and give me credit for it. Involuntarily, I chuckled.

"What were you doing around here?" I asked.

"Um...nothing much. Just roaming around."

Oh boy! Roaming around!? In this heat? What was she? An ant?

"Sweet!" I replied sarcastically.

She took another sip, once again letting those ice cubes ring against the glass.

"Actually, I was looking for you." she said. I realized she had to muster up a lot of courage to say that.

"What for?" I wasn't surprised. I was frustrated. I don't like when people dig me up.

"I got my dream job,"

I waited.

"I promised, I would notify you when I'll get my dream job,"

I had no idea what she was talking about but that gesture brought out the generic soft spot I had for her and suddenly she appeared vulnerable. It was delightful to me.

"Well, congratulations. I am really proud of you," I tried to sound as genuine as possible but the summer. Ugh. My brain wasn't braining. And my throat felt slimy.

She smiled. Her sulk left the body.

"Thank you so much."

Really? Nice.

"So, you'll be in town or shifting somewhere else?" I asked, trying to be nice.

"I would love to travel," she said, nodding her head.

"Good. Very well. I am happy for you," I said, hinting that I wanted this conversation to end.

I gathered my book and started to stand up when she stood up as well. I looked at her expectantly. She creased her brows and took a deep sigh.

"Can I come with you?"

Ok! Where did that come from?

"I am going home," I said, thinking she might want to avoid that.

"Yes, I will go home with you."

Hold on! I am hallucinating. The summer's feverish temperature was playing wrong with me. I was sweating in that air-conditioned cafe and felt as if I were entering into a trance.

I took her home with me. She wasn't a mirage after all. I offered her some cold water and made my way into my bedroom to shed my outdoor clothes. I came back to see her in the same position, with the glass of water sitting before her.

"I think I should go," she said, getting up.

So she left.

~

Two days later, on another summer afternoon when the cicadas were being unusually chaotic and the air was thick, she paid me a visit. I could not understand her reasons but somehow I felt I should be there. I am not an easy person to talk to but I can be reliable at times, if I want to. But mostly because I felt bad for her. Even when we were dating, she was surrounded by friends yet somehow managed to appear lonely. And she looked no less lonely sitting on the couch in my apartment.

And after talking to me over a cup of cold coffee, she left.

~

After our two meet-ups, it was I who suggested she come and stay with me. An impulsive suggestion I knew I would regret.

So she paid me another visit, this time with a duffle bag.

She insisted that she would cook for us and so she did. We ate with her, asking me if I was feeling comfortable in her presence, if the food was good, if I was actually sure about her being with me, if this--if that--and so on. Innocence, similar to a child's, is endearing as long as you choose to endure it. And my threshold for tolerating things isn't very high.

"So, can we watch a movie?" she asked.

"Sure,"

I cleaned up the couch and added a couple more pillows as she managed to choose a movie for us to watch. She chose science fiction, a genre that was far away from me. The outer world had always been her thing, not mine. I never thought about anything beyond the moon. We both got settled in on the couch and watched the movie in silence. She would occasionally sit with her knees propped under her chin and then change to sit cross-legged with her back straight. I found watching her more amusing than the movie.

"Would you like something to drink?" I asked.

The movie was boring and I wanted some time away from her.

"Sure," she said and I swiftly got out of the living room and entered the kitchen.

I opened the refrigerator and stood before it for a while. I stooped lower, letting my head hang and stretching my neck. Oh! My head felt heavy but the cool air from the refrigerator calmed me.

"You could have told me you didn't like the movie." Her voice rang out from behind me.

I never like agreeing to anybody, to the point where I feel threatened when somebody gets me. Naturally, I denied it.

"No no. I was just feeling hot. You know. Right? Summer and I don't get along," I smiled, pulling two cans of beer from the open refrigerator.

She nodded.

"I am feeling hot too."

"Shall we take a break and go to the terrace?" I suggested.

We took two flights of stairs and reached the terrace. The evening breeze struck my sweaty neck and forehead, instantly pleasing me. We walked together to the edge and stood, taking in the scenery of the city lights in front of us.

The beer cooled my throat and I felt it all the way in my stomach. I averted my gaze to look at her and I found her already staring at me.

"What?"

"I want to ask you something."

I took a sip of my beer and waited.

"I know you will say no,"

"If you know that already, then don't ask."

She went quiet.

"Alright, what is it?"

She was holding her beer can with both hands.

"Can I kiss you?"

"What do you think?" I chuckled.

'Don't laugh, please. I am serious," she said with her eye brows knitted together.

"Um... Alright. Just one. One peck,"

"Ok," she immediately brightened up, as if she knew I would give up.

I mean for old time's sake. It was fine. Right?

I turned my body toward her and stood still for her to take the initiative.

She placed the beer can on the floor and gently licked her lips, moving closer to me. I think she pressed her lips against mine but she was gone just as quickly as she came.

"You done?" I genuinely asked.

"Yes?" She too looked skeptical of my accord.

"Alright," I turned to attend my beer.

"Did you not-"

"It's alright. Your kiss is as petite as you," I said, flashing a smile at her.

"Then let me try again," she said.

I took another sip and readied myself again.

This time, I saw her getting on her toes and reaching for my lips. She placed her hands in front of my shoulder and leaned in for a peck. This time, I felt her warm body against mine. Her chest touched mine and her lips kissed mine.

"I am done," she said, getting away from me and picking up her beer can.

"Um." I finished my beer in one final gulp.

"I am going back in," I said.

"Me too," she said, joining me.

I unlocked my door and went straight into the kitchen to throw the beer can in the dustbin. She followed me in as well and did the same. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her in. She was startled, but kept looking at me, accepting what was coming for her.

I held her chin and placed a kiss on her lips. Her lips were tender and small. She placed her hand gently on my hand, that held her chin and leaned into the kiss. I let go of her wrist and brought her close to me by her waist.

As I held her in my embrace, my mind became clogged with thoughts. I don't recall her holding this close before. I can't remember how I used to express my love for her before. What did I like about her? Did I love her? Why did I love her? I understood nothing. Everything felt ghostly nostalgic, and I had no clue why.

I left her lips and trailed kisses down her neck. She moaned deeply and rested her palms on my chest.

What I do remember is that she was one of those people who never questioned my existence after knowing how messed up I was. She never made me realize I needed to change. I knew I had to grow, but that felt unnecessary with her. She saw through my heart, mind, and soul, yet stuck with me.

Now that I know myself a little better, I realize that's what I never understood. She loved me. But she loved me in a way that I could not comprehend. It was too much. It was lovely. It was nauseating. It was pure. It was pitiful.

I let go of her. She was flushed, and I stood, wondering if I was taking advantage of her by crossing her invisible threshold.

"I am sorry," I said and walked out.

"Why are you apologizing?"

How could she be concerned about me?

"Let's finish the movie." I ignored her as I usually do.

I sat on the couch and started the movie. She joined me on the seat beside me.

A minute into the movie, she picked up the remote from the coffee table and turned off the television.

"What are you doing?"

She got up from the seat and came to straddle me.

I took a deep breath and kept my eyes on her. She took off her t-shirt, dropped the shoulder strap of her bra and clumsily reached back to unhook her bra.

"Are you trying to seduce me?"

"No, I want you to see me," she said, holding my face.

She leaned in and right before our lips could meet, she nuzzled her face in the crook of my neck.

"Hold me, please," she cooed in my ear. The innocence in her whisper stripped me bare of my charade.

It was pathetic how easily I had forgotten the sweetness and remembered all of the pain. I held her with my palms flat against her bare back.

"Tighter, please," her "please" always conveyed a sense of pain that I never understood, as if the word got stuck in her throat and had a hard time coming out.

Her body went limp in my firm embrace.

"Do you want to sleep?" I whisper.

"Yes,"

"Shall I take you to bed?"

"Yes,"

She showed no signs of moving on her own, so I picked her up as such and carried her to the bedroom, where I placed her on the bed.

"Sleep with me."

"I don't want to."

"Please,"

"Alright, give me a minute."

She grunted softly.

I washed my face, then turned off the lights in the living room and kitchen before walking back to her.

She was lying on her side, her back facing me. I turned around to leave.

"I am not asleep," I heard her mumble.

"I see,"

"No, you don't see. You were sneaking away," she was angry. Her anger was comparable to that of a kitten. It was cute, to say the least.

"Ok ok. I am joining you," I left the door ajar and finally joined her on the bed.

It was hot so draping a cover on us was out of the question and cuddling her wasn't something I was looking forward to.

"Cuddle me,"

With her back still facing me, I reluctantly placed one arm over her waist.

"Place your other arm under my head."

She wasn't usually so stern, but she could be very assertive when her wants became her needs.

She lifted her head, and I slipped my arm under it. She took that hand and placed it over her chest, intertwining her fingers with mine. Her nipples, as soft as skinned grapes, brushed my arm, and the soft cushion of her breasts wasn't that bearable.

"Are we sleeping like this?"

"Yes"

"Alright,"

"You can kick me off the bed once I doze off."

"Alright,"

She got right up and stared at me.

"Don't "alright" me,"

I wasn't looking at her face.

"Why is it always sad or something perverted with you? Why do I always have to fish you with a piece of me?"

"Is it not because you have nothing else to give me?" I draped the covers over her chest.

"Is that why you broke up with me? Because I had nothing else to give you."

"Why don't you think that for yourself?" I think I might be a terrible person.

I stormed out of the room and walked right onto the balcony. The night has fallen and the breeze has taken up the pace. I felt her hug me from behind. I don't know if she was already broken before she met me. But I do know that, to some extent, I had shattered a piece or two of her. And it bothers me to think that I lack the patience to accept responsibility for her sadness.

"Please take my virginity," she mumbled.

I finally had a laugh.

"What?"

"If it has to be someone, it is going to be you."

I turned around and pulled her into a hug. Who said that love makes you gentle and soft? I have never felt so aggressive. I have never felt more pathetic.

That night, under the dim light of the lamp, she sat in front of me, devoid of any clothing except her innocent expectation from a pathetic, terrible person like me.

I freed her hair from her claw clip and laid her down on the bed. I held her in an embrace and kissed her forehead, followed by her cheeks and chin. I let my hand roam on her heaving chest as I kissed her lips. Her small nipples turned firm when I pinched and teased them. The mound of her soft breasts felt enticing in my hands. I kissed her neck, moved down to her clavicle and then sucked on her breasts. I closed my eyes and I felt her tight nipples under my tongue.

Then I edged her to spread her legs for me. She spread her legs and turned her face down in anticipation. Slowly, my finger dove into the wetness and darkness within. Her face was flushed, and she had her nails digging into my shoulder blade. My heart and body were aroused but my mind was bone dry. I could not help it.

She drew me close to her face, urging me to kiss. I kissed her mouth while my fingers filled her up. She squirmed as I held her pinned under my body.

I sucked on her earlobes and nibbled on her neck to give her what she had asked for from me.

She succumbed to the pleasure and finally relaxed.

"Does your leg hurt?"

I moved away from her and took her feet in my lap. I massaged each foot separately before returning to her.

The summer heat in the room had seeped into my t-shirt, prickling my back. My scalp itched, and I felt dizzy.

I felt her arm silently wrap around me and my head rested on her naked chest.

"Are you alright?"

I didn't reply. I could not reply.

I listened to her vigorously beating heart, and when it became uniform and rhythmic, I realized she had fallen asleep.

I went into the kitchen and chugged a big bottle of cold water. Except for the hum of the refrigerator, everything else was quiet. All too quiet. Everything was deadly still. My mind wasn't barking. It felt like I was so close to figuring it all out. So close.