Best Friends?

Chapter 17

   dan

Warmth. Sun. Wind.

   The breeze ruffled my hair and stirred each individual blade of grass. My back pressed up against the oak that supported me. A sense of zen hovered in the air.

   I have not felt this way for a little while. At peace. Only two months ago did my flatmate tell me he was leaving to go live with his girlfriend. And now, finally, he would really be gone.

   Greene was gone due to a family problem in Australia, how much I wish he was here. Phil would be completely packed into his new apartment with Marge, and I will have to find some place in only four days. It is a weird thought- and theoretically I should be sad. But if I am honest, I'm just mad.

   Slipping out of a calm state, my meditation starts to focus more on forcing the anger away. Heat. Red. Sharp.

   I can't believe he's doing this. I thought we had the same emotions for each other. But I had obviously been wrong.

   Calm, calm. I need to relax. Stretching my neck and inhaling slowly, I feel my comfort wavering back.

But there it is again, like a ball of fire knocking on the edge of my brain. He doesn't even care where I end up. Phil and I have been fighting for the past two months, since he told me he is moving out. Angry texts left on each others phone screens, slammed doors, a glare from those icy eyes that were once summery pools I would love to have drowned in.

I stay out of the house as much as I can, letting my house-mate pack up his belongings. I should of known he was going to leave me some day.

Opening my eyes to reveal the park, a large mass of short green grass, still clinging onto the dew of the morning, a familiar figure strides over to me. His curly mop of brown hair, slender frame.

"Dan? What are you doing here?" Pj's voice comes out questionably.

"I'm not entirely sure, if I'm being honest."

He sits down next to me, leaning against the trunk of the tree I was also leaning on. "Why haven't you been answering my calls?" He asks.

My hands play with the grass as I think of a reasonable answer, "I didn't know what I could say."

"What do you mean?"

Feeling the vibrant eyes burn into the side of my skull, my voice cracks, "I'm disappointed."

"Disappointed of what, Dan?"

"Myself."

His sigh tingles on the side of my neck and leaves a shiver down my spine. Why have I let this happen, people in my life are chipping away in every direction and I don't know how to collect them. I want to feel something. I need to feel something so bad.

Finally turning my gaze to Pj, I see his eyes gleaming with the same energy I have been chasing for the last month. The energy I desire. A single strand of hair blocks my view of those kaleidoscope eyes. I can't help myself, and push it out of the way, my hand delicately brushing his skin. I find my hand hovering over the cheek of the one who's energy excites me so deeply inside I might burst.

Before I can stop myself I take his face in my hands and press my lips onto his- and surprisingly he doesn't resist, instead quite the opposite.

The energy devoured me, everything was gone around us. My hands are no longer tangled in the grass, but instead his hair. My heart thumps so hard I wonder if I could possibly be having a heart attack. It feels so good, so close.

Soft. Warm. Free.

His touch brings sparks to my mind, bright. Hands up my neck, a rough breath here and there, he is here. So much energy.

Being is his grasp makes me feel vulnerable, as if I'm his. His touch was captivating.

It felt like only seconds when he pulled away, stripping me of my expensive wonder of how much he had left for me.

"This is a park." Pj states, clearly still overwhelmed.

"Yes it is," I reply with a small laugh.

"As in, let's get out of here."

To his suggestion I get up, also lending a hand for Pj.

"I walked here." I say.

"Good, because I have a car." Pj says with a smile, "and a hotel room."

We float as if with the wind to Pj's car, high on the moment.

He drives 10 minutes to his hotel building, the need for touch getting heavier with the minute as we stumble through the hallways.

Shutting the hotel door behind us I can feel the weight of lust on our clothes, and if this goes right, the clothes won't have to weigh us down any longer.

My hands find themselves trapped behind his head as we lock mouths once more- this time not shying from public. He pushes me against the wall and my heart skips a beat, possibly stopping altogether.

He tugs at my lust-weighed white t-shirt and my mind flutters off as I am engulfed in his energy and put in a haze I was craving since I saw him again.

Skin. Heat. Lust.