Taking The Long Way Home

Part 12

12. Don't do this. Don't guilt trip me.

Guam.

Five years ago.

There was Bossa Nova playing in the background, noisy chatter of drunk locals spinning up stories of their latest fishing trip, and the crashing waves of the sea just below the lively bar that briefly quiets and then is alive again, slamming water against the wooden stilts. The bar had a tropical feel to it, made entirely out of wood and thoroughly decorated with Chamorro culture. It was close to midnight but drinks were still flowing and people were still buying. The customers were an even mix of locals and tourist, each talking in their own language, making the bar a melting pot of various linguistics. On a veranda extended from the bar, were a lonely couple with their tongues in each other's mouths, completely lost in the moment, and at the far corner, a lone lady with a glass of hard liquor in her hand. She had a solemn look on her face with the bright moonlight illuminating her view as far as she could see. She smiled at that fact, the fact that she was content with being able to see everything so clearly, despite of the time and place she was in at the moment. She took another sip of her glass of whiskey, swirling it in her mouth as the liquor stings her cheeks and finally swallowing  it, enjoying its warmth as it filled her body. She was standing there for quite a while, sipping on her drink bit by bit, leaning on the veranda, oblivious to various men that were eyeing her from the bar, like predators on the hunt.

“I think that’s enough Pina Colada for me. What do they put in these anyway?” Maiyan asked Buyugo, their local contact in Guam who spoke Japanese. “Pineapple juice… Coconut cream…” “That’s it?” “And a lot of white rum!” They laughed at the last word, clearly in good spirits. She met him some years ago while doing a photoshoot on the island, back then he was just the local light man, doing odd jobs. Buyugo was great help, a great wedding planner, a great tour guide and a great friend. He made everything possible. He made the wedding possible. She chuckled when he ordered another glass of whatever the bartender was pouring, clearly tipsy and in too good of a mood. He cheers to her direction, and she cheered back, looking fondly at his failing attempts at wooing another local girl who’s too good for him. A pat on her shoulder made her turn, putting down her empty glass on the bar beside her. “Honestly how many drinks will you have before we-...” Maiyan was quick and sly. She cuts Nanase's words with a smooth hand on her waist, sliding in closer, narrowing the gap between them. She pulled her newly wedded wife close, feeling her waist, sharing heat between their bodies. She leaned in closer. “Before we what..?” she whispered naughtily in Nanase’s ear, “..retire to our exotic tropical hotel suite?” Nanase was obviously blushing but she wasn’t all too thrilled about this public display of affection Maiyan was instigating. Pushing Maiyan away she counters with a smile “You mean our king sized bed one bath hotel room?” Maiyan smiled back and instead resisted Nanase’s weak push and pulled her closer than before, their bodies leaning against each other, until Maiyan could smell the scent of her hair. The bar was noisy and it was a little warm as the customers keep piling up, and she could make out little vapours of sweat on Nanase’s neck that was making her feel...a lot of things. The local songstress that had been singing drunken nonsense since the bar opened was finally hauled away and the bar began to be descend into romantic, sultry, Bossa Nova. It was so opportune, magical even. The music, the strangers around them, this out of bounds island they were on… They were just normal tourists here, just a woman and her wife enjoying their first night together as a wedded couple. Maiyan turned Nanase around to face her, their eyes now dead center on each other, locked into a different universe in which only the both of them were present. Their bodies so close, their faces only millimeters apart. Expertly sliding her hand up Nanase’s arm, Maiyan hovered her touch, the tips of her fingers just barely making contact with Nanase's soft skin, teasing… waiting. Another hand was tight around Nanase’s waist, in power and in command, keeping her from running away. She extends her neck and parted her lips. She was in control, she was leading the dance and Nanase was her muse, her princess that was now entirely hers. Nanase in turn was in a trance, paralysed. She was immobilized both physically and emotionally. She was but a pawn to Maiyan’s game, a slave to her bidding, a puppet in a play. She tried to resist, public affections were never her thing, but they were on a foreign tropical island and the Bossa Nova...oh the Bossa Nova was just making it all so easy and tempting. Just as she was about to surrender herself to what she thinks is lust and desire, the corner of her eye caught a sight that immediately summoned her full attention. She pushes Maiyan away and held her wife by the hand telling her of the sight she was seeing. Maiyan was genuinely startled, like as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice over her steaming body. But she was back on earth and she was definitely keen on what could be so important to disrupt her important moment? Nanase’s voice was concerned and a bit alarmed “Mai. Mai, look. On the veranda. That’s Misa isn’t it? I think those guys on the other side are about go for her. They don’t look so nice and she’s alone over there.” “Wha-..?” “Just go to her ok? Keep her company. She’s our only guest to our wedding and you haven’t spent time for her at all. You’re so lucky we didn’t have a normal reception or entertaining guests would be a huge problem considering how you're behaving.” Nanase was looking at Maiyan then, her voice serious and concerned, “I’ll be up in the room. Make sure she gets to the hotel safely ok? She looks like she had a few drinks.” “Yeah, I bet.” Maiyan answered jokingly but Nanase shot her back with a serious look and Maiyan nodded like a good wife and started to walk across the bar leaving the noise of the bar and the Bossa Nova behind, into the slightly chill open veranda.