the Devil and the Sea

38| One hot night

I quickly walk along the road under the street lamps, and I feel how I am gradually approaching the point of no return. No, I'm already irrevocably sucked in.

With ragged breathing and nervous trembling, I drive thoughts away: I'm not some kind of girl in love, I have everything under control.

I see the silhouette of Vincent up ahead and involuntarily turn around to make sure no one is watching.

Vincent pockets his phone when he spots me and flashes the most wonderful smile he has in his arsenal.

"You're damn punctual," I remark, stopping in front of him.

"And you were late, and besides, you didn't answer the phone," he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

Was he going to leave?

Anyway, he waited fifteen minutes, so I feel a pleasant joy.

"Let's get out of here, it's too well lit here," I don't wait for an answer and go around Vincent.

He immediately catches up with me.

"Why are you so nervous? Again your boyfriend fucked up your brains?"

Yes, he did, but it would be better if he did not fuck up my brains, but my body.

Vincent's face is overjoyed.

"I'm not nervous, I'm just shivering from the cold." A clear lie, it's so warm now that it's very comfortable in a crop top and shorts.

But I don't want Vincent to know about the excitement he's causing.

I pull out a pack of cigarettes and notice the surprise on Vincent's face.

"What?"

"Nothing."

I stop and cover the cigarette with my palm to protect it from the wind, light it and inhale.

Vincent looks at my mouth, and there is clear displeasure in his eyes. At first I'm going to remind him that it's none of his business, but after a moment I realize that he wouldn't care if I smoke or not if he didn't care about me. So I make an effort to hide an uninvited smile at the thought that he cares.

We stop near a bay north of Sitges where they had a barbecue four days ago. Only we remain between residential buildings. It's very quiet here, everyone must be asleep by now.

I feel my knees tremble, my whole body trembles.

I sit on the lawn by the road, Vincent sits next to me. I stretch my legs out in front of me and toss my phone and pack of cigarettes and lighter aside. I'm noticeably nervous, and it infuriates me. Vincent starts making casual conversation, but that's not what I came here for. He puts his head on my shoulder and talks dreamily about something. I try not to listen to it, because I'm afraid that I will like it, that if I hear something like that, from which something will change in me. I pretend to be involved in the dialogue, although I am not listening at all. I think only of his lips and wait for the moment when our mouths will again be connected in a kiss.

Vincent takes off his glasses and pulls me towards him, using his palm to turn my head towards him. We are face to face.

"What are we doing?" I ask without being embarrassed at all that the distance between us is so minimal that when we talk, our lips touch.

"On Saturday you were more confident and courageous," when he speaks, his breath is warm, I look at the lips parted opposite.

"I want to repeat it," Vincent whispers and digs into my lips, and I immediately answer with the same pressure.