Ocean Feathers

Just That

The stars were barely twinkling through the smog disguising as clouds as it came through my nostrils along with the weak smell of alcohol I can barely fathom. Wetness carried through the asphalt the light from the lamp posts fairly distanced away from each other. Silence came about everytime the gushing cries of the waves were heard as they violently hit the seawalls. They echoed through the empty avenue with the quiet whistles that came along with it.

It was cold, colder than what I was accustomed to. Perhaps it was caused by the same reason I can barely put my feet where I planned my step, and it was getting more out of place as I took more of it. The cold embrace of the sea bothered me. It was as if it was telling me that something was missing, that I might have left something on the bar that could have lessened the chills I am having right now. But I am immediately reminded with the same realization that I remember everytime I started noticing the warmth on my left side.

The warmth wrapped my arm covered in my sleeve up to the wrist. It snuck from my palm to and through the gaps of my fingers. It blew once again a breath to my mind what was missing and of my purpose of walking an empty street at an untimely hour way past midnight that leads me only further away from home. I was supposed and am going to lead a good friend of mine home safe and untouched from the lingering souls turned wicked by the same thing that had got us into our wobbly state.

The jet black waves fell from her head and kept her sealed, tired and puffy eyes away from the silent chaos around us. It was her arms that gave the wrapping heat around my own. And it was her fingers that kept mine free from the chills as it interlaced with each other. She also had the one thing that would fix the feeling of incompleteness that was bothering me. It was my light gray cotton sweater with Snoopy on it.

She had its sleeves barely held by the halves of her palms on the garter-like ends of it. It was loose, really loose on her. The sweater ran down above the black miniskirt that covered her thighs.

Upon seeing the edifice covered with bricks painted with the different shades of autumn, I told her, "Cheshie, we're almost there."

"Where," she asked with eaten words.

I didn't answer until I was helping her on the slippery steps before the door of her apartment, "Your home."

The gap between her brows crumpled as her mouth arched, "This isn't home," she said.

"It is, until we, I mean you finish college," I reckoned as a migraine flanked my head. I was trying to open the door with the copy of the key she gave me before. I could only mutter curses as I failed miserably.

She held the back of my hand tightly as she assisted me with opening the door before giving her favourite comment, "You're such an oaf London!"

We took the steps leading up to her room through the darkness. I can feel the smooth wooden wall on the side of my arm as I carried her like pig. My steps were like of a child's who isn't tall enough yet, but it was heavy enough to cause creaks through the carpets of the stairs. I dragged my feet as soon as I was at the last step and slowly dropped her on her feet.

She faced me with her eyes still closed, "Am I bloody drunk London?"

"Depends on who's askin'," I answered. I gave her a chuckle as the heat on my face burned my cheeks.

"Are you leaving already? It's late. You should stay for the night."

I kissed her on the forehead and whispered, "No."

"Why?" she pouted and started shaking my arms as she repeatedly begged with the question.

I could only shake my head that had my lower lip push the upper one as I gave her a shrug and muttering, "Fine, sod off my arms, you're making my headache worse!" I just couldn't say no to her, not now, that thete's nothing really wrong.