Wednesday 27 May 2015

Bittersweet


“Yeah, this is kinda weird,” you remarked, still staring at my ceiling.

“Yes it is,” I responded with equal rhetoric. “I hope this changes nothing,” I continued.

“Of course not,” you gave a rather weak smile which I didn’t think you noticed yourself. Repositioning my head on your broad shoulders, I shifted deeper towards your neck, resting a quick kiss on your cheeks.

“Please don’t,” I whispered into your ear. “Don’t make promises that you know you might not keep.”

You said nothing in reply, knowing well what I meant in context. To your credit, you did forced yourself a smile, although it did nothing in your attempt to pacify the growing restlesss inside me.

“I had fun yesterday,” you broke your silence.

“It’s always about the sex, eh?” Grimly, I posted that question against your stonily expression. Seeing you caught out like that really did gave me an ego boost, but I probably should cut you some slack.

“Silly you,” I reached out and gave you a kiss on your forehead, before uncovering my naked legs that was hidden under the thick cozy duvet. Skilfully, I wrapped myself with the bathrobe lying on the floor. I blushed as soon as I saw you staring at me. I was not going down without a fight.

“Petrified?” I said with a high pitched voice, like those posh ladies in London, “By my beauty?”

“Hardly,” you responded with a chuckle. Clearing your throat, you switched to a scouser accent, “I was more impressed by the perfectly shaped booty of yours!”

What followed after was a pillow fight; grabbing the closest pillow to me I bang it as hard as I could against you. Without retaliating, your parried away all my attacks. Frustrated, I held on to the pillow tightly before diving onto the bed, trying to pin you down under all those thick cottons. Throughout the mini skirmish your laughter resonated all over the room.

Finally you decided to retaliate. With a huge heave you overturned the tables; I was now the one pinned under your big arms, unable to move. The laughter ceased along the fight. I was staring right at you but I no longer blushed. You cracked a smile and kissed me full in the lips. I thought you tasted like honey lemon with a tinge of tobacco.

Bittersweet.

Monday 11 May 2015

你这也太潇洒了吧?

你这也太潇洒了吧?
“Mojito.”
说分就分,说断就断。他对着电话已有三天,手机的每个震动,信号通知都过于期待和渴望。 查看来信者就会垂头丧气,闷闷不乐。说起来,他也并非完全无过;一向来自尊心极强的他却不甘下风向你祈求。他说不是面子问题,而这是一种衡量他在你心目中的分量到底有多么重。
说着他又把酒杯里偷的烈酒灌了,用力把杯子塌在柜台上,豪爽地命令调酒师再呈上鸡尾酒。
“Mojitoagain.”
你可曾经问他,那么多鸡尾酒当中,最喜欢Mojito? 这酒,他并不常喝。你去年夏天外地出差,一出就出了四天,他就连接和了四晚;上个月他回乡探亲,每晚这个时候不失去了酒吧,就在家端了啤酒自个儿喝着。这回你们小闹一番,他就溜了这自己喝着。
你说他这是在喝闷酒吗?奇怪的是每当他端着酒杯,就是呆呆地晃着酒杯,细看着薄荷叶在酒里飘着飘着。过了片刻,叶片也逐渐沉在杯底,他就一口把酒全灌了。
“Mojito.”
调酒师脸上挂着怪异的表情,似乎担心他会把自己灌醉,又或者好奇这怪客何以什么都不喝,只喝这带点辛辣,味道稍微平淡的Mojito鸡尾酒。调酒师最后还是把他要的饮料给呈上。刚伸手他顿时呆了,凝望着身前半尺以外的酒杯,不时脸上就流下了两道溪水。他闭了双眼,咬着嘴唇,摆上了一幅回到过去的表情。人在这里,心灵却该是回到了以往跟你相处的光阴。
你这也太潇洒了吧?

Sunday 3 May 2015

Message in the bottle

I was baffled, you were holding an empty Johnny Walker bottle in your hand, and I wasn’t entirely sure what you meant by that.
“Empty bottle?” I asked quizzically.
Smiling in reply, you proceeded to leave the bottle in my arms, turned around and walked nearer towards the bank. I followed as I witnessed you rustling for something in your backpack, trying to dig out something from that pile of mess.
“Where is it…where is it?” With my mouth gaping, I wanted to ask what this was about, but seeing you so engrossed trying to do something seemed to be enchanting in some ways. I swallowed back my curiosity.
“Ahah!” Triumphantly, you thrust your fist into the air as you turned around, your face glittering with joy. Sometimes I do wonder, how was it that you do what you did?
While your euphoria subsided at the sight of my ever baffling expression, your smile remained sincere. Tilting my head a little towards the left, I subtly indicated that I was still pretty much unsure about what you were intending to do.
It was then you held out your palm, revealing a piece of charcoal and a stack of sticky notes…
***********************************
“Hey there…what have we got here?” Blacky the dog wagged and sniffed furiously at a protruding piece of glass at the shore.
“Hush boy, hush!” you threw his favourite tennis ball a dozen a yards towards the inland, trying to distract from his new toy, and boy how fast he went.
Foolishly, you tried kicking that shinning piece of glass, only to numb your toes from the impact. Slightly unimpressed, you dug around the bottle and gave a hard thug. Before you knew it, you were on your backside having pulled too hard.
You almost swore until you saw it – there was a message in the bottle.
*******************************************
“I can’t believe that you still remember that!” I barked against the backdrop of the waves chiselling the rocks.  “I thought you never knew.”
Again, you put on the same smile that you always have, pure and pristine. “I knew it ever since I saw that bottle on your piano…” you finally broke your silence, before adding on “the chip at the neck…it was on purpose so that I could tell.”
“You knew all along? You played me good,” half snorting and half laughing, I rested both palms in my back pocket. “You knew all along.”
*******************************************
You thought people only write and put them in bottles, but this had not words. Instead in the bottle was a portrait. The lines were crude, uneven and thick, but there was a sense of elegance beneath that murky scribbling. It was mythical and stunning. It was you.
“This can’t be ink…nor lead,” you muttered to yourself, by now Blacky was already feverishly nudging his snout against your thighs, asking for a replay. “Go get them,” you said as you threw as hard as you could, this time even further than it was.
Staring at your own little reflection, you rested yourself a couple of yards away from the water, putting the now emptied bottle next to you. Turning the portrait around you scribbled something on the back, before reinserting the portrait back into the bottle. You almost threw the bottle before a thought struck. Picking up a small sharp rock, you chipped away the neck of the bottle, making a very minute yet easily distinguishable mark on it, before releasing it back into the wild that it may continue on its voyage.
*******************************************
“So when I invited you over…” I stuttered as I tried to supress my own laughter.
“…I knew it was you,” you responded in equal hysteria. “I half suspected that you put that bottle in plain sight, expecting me to know right away.”
“But….” I shook my head in disbelief.
“Yeah…” you responded, looking at your toes digging into the wet sand, your hands behind your back.
“You didn't show any response to the bottle so I thought…you may have forgotten,” I took several strides closer, and beneath my breath I prayed that you stay exactly where you were. “I thought that erm,” I stumbled trying to find the correct words, “erm…it was pretty cool of you to find it.”
“It was,” you whispered, and as I caught those words my heart went racing. “I figured it would be nice to start on a clean slate,” you continued yet you fixated your eyes over the horizon, ignoring and pretending my stares on you.
Words failed me, so I held out my hand. This time you responded. Smiling, you turned around and held both the sticky notes and piece of charcoal. Picking up all the signals, I gave you a smile, after which I wrap my hands over yours, and led you towards the fallen coconut tree several metres behind and set us down.
“What are you gonna draw?” your voice slightly mellow yet furnished with tinges of hope, you asked.
“I’m going draw,” I drew you near, landing my lips on yours, indulging myself in that moment, holding the world in my arms, I whispered into your ears.
“I’m going to draw us.”
*******************************************

Saturday 2 May 2015

Oopss...I did it again


Yeap?

Yeap. It was pretty awkward. The situation wasn’t helped by the fact that my fingers were biting into my palms, yet I felt nothing. I was sure someone striding past me could hear the sound of my heart rampaging against my rib cage, and the fleeting thought of you hearing it slipped into my mind at the same time.

Yeah...

I have always knew what I wanted to do. Pushing to the very limits of my cognitive capacity, I have played out the scenario to bits multitude of times, running the simulation in the comfort of my own imagination, playing out all the same outcome and response. The good ones, of course.

See you tomorrow?

I thought I could be slick and smooth, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. Not after seeing your fidgeting lips and those mysterious eyes. I swear those eyes could drive anybody looking into them crazy. They seemed to tell a whole lot of things, and I felt I understood them, but then again I was too fearful to know for sure, as if my senses were dented and incapacitated.

You have always tend to overthink.

And I let go; I let the rescinding doors receive you into the box, I let the worst of me getting the best of us, I couldn’t do it. And as you retreated I thought I saw a pang of disappointment in you, masked by the weariness in your eyes. I looked away, and almost instantly regretted it. Turning around, I caught a glimpse of your parting smile before the doors closed upon any hopes of second chances. I hated myself; my weakness, indecisiveness and foolishness. I did it again.

Have YOU learnt nothing?