Dalumat

V. The Romanticism of Sleep

The muted purring of the air conditioner echoed in the dim room.

"Hindi kaya," Risa heard Leni murmur behind her. She was closer now, her voice sounding louder than it did a few minutes ago, even though she was whispering. "Hindi kaya ako nahiya."

Risa bit back a smile. She could hear the stubbornness in her words even though she couldn't see Leni still. "Ayaw mo?"

She didn't know which came first: the tightening of Leni's hold around her or the mulish but meek "Gusto..." that came from behind her that she willingly played deaf to.

"Ano? 'Di kita marinig."

"...Gusto nga."

Risa laughed this time, as silently as she could, the vibrations climbing up Leni's arms and the laughter feeling like a welcome release after all the evening's pent-up nerves. It lasted for about three seconds before she felt a pinch on her stomach where Leni's hands were.

"Aray!"

But she continued giggling.

"Matulog ka na nga," Leni said softly. "Maaga pa tayo mamaya. Gigisingin pa kita."

One of Leni's hands started rubbing the spot she pinched, as if to soothe the burn, and Risa let her laughter subside. For the second time that night, she wanted to see what Leni's facial expression was, but instead of turning around to see, she looked ahead, watching the blurry shadow formed by their bodies against the light behind them on the wall in front of her. It wasn't two distinct figures at all; it was one big shapeless lump of a shadow, only contoured thanks to the blanket over them.

Risa pondered absently, if it was a mirror instead of a wall, what would she see?

"Good night," Leni spoke for the last time.

Risa finally closed her eyes. "Good night."

Good night, my VP.

-

This was a memory whose authenticity Risa would debate in her head in the many days to come. She didn't know if it was something that really happened, or if it was a dream she had that night, or if it was a false memory her brain conjured up for whatever reason.

She woke up in the middle of the night. She didn't know what time it was. Maybe it was two or three in the morning — she didn't know. The absence of light in the room was the same before she fell asleep, either way. With no natural light coming in, she couldn't tell the difference.

She wanted to move, but she couldn't. Her right shoulder was starting to get uncomfortable from the weight, and she wanted to turn to her other side. She wasn't used to sleeping on her right.

But her body felt heavy, and her more than half-asleep brain took a while to register the arms firmly wrapped around her, like they were many hours before. She should know; she was the one who put them there.

Then she started to register more things.

Leni's right palm just below her sternum, fingers splayed against her ribs.

Leni's left hand slightly below her navel, just loosely resting there.

Leni's steady breathing against the back of her neck, but it wasn't against the nape exactly. It was more to the left side of her neck, near her ear, way closer than before.

Leni's legs entangled with hers, the front of one thigh against the back of her own.

Leni's chest against her back, the swell of her breasts pushing against her.