This one life

Dancing in the dark

You can't start a fire
You can't start a fire without a spark
This gun's for hire
Even if we're just dancin' in the dark

"Dancing in the dark", Bruce Springsteen

I toss and turn in my bed and find no rest at all. My mind keeps wandering back to the touch of Jasmin's lips on mine, and every time I have gone over every detail of today, I start wondering how on earth this will go on.

With a sigh, I get out of bed. I feel thirsty, and I can't sleep anyway. I carefully open the door and gratefully notice that a dim light shines downstairs from the living room. When I get upstairs, I realize that it is the digital clock on the living room cabinet that spreads its light. I go to the kitchen and switch on the light there. It is much too bright for this hour of the night, and with half-closed eyes, I open a random cabinet to try and find a glass. I get lucky on the third try and fill the glass at the sink. The cool water feels good as it flows down my throat.

A fraction of a second later, I hear movement on the stairs to the first floor and turn around to see who or what is making the noise. Very slowly, Jasmin comes down the stairs and stares at me in disbelief as she spots me standing in the middle of the kitchen. She walks down the last step, but keeps her distance and squints at me, still without saying a word. I become aware of the fact that I am only wearing boxer shorts and a T-shirt when my glance wanders over her shirt that barely covers her thighs.

„Alles okay?", she now more whispers than says. Well, that depends, I guess.

„Ich hatte Durst...", I answer.

The whole situation is so absurd that I suddenly have to grin. She has lowered her gaze, probably because she has also realized that we are both not suitably dressed for an encounter like this.

„Okay, ich bin dann wieder....", she mutters and makes a move to walk back upstairs.

„Warte", I say and take a few hesitant steps towards her and out of the much-too-bright light in the kitchen.

„Warum bist du wach?", I quietly ask her.

She smiles and pulls at her shirt in an attempt to cover more of her bare legs. Without knowing why, I take another step towards her.

„Fabian hat schlecht geträumt", she says in a matter-of-fact voice.

„Dann hab ich gesehen, dass hier unten Licht brennt....", she shrugs and looks away again.

I don't know what to say or do, so I just stare at her. Her long, curly hair is tangled and I have to resist the temptation to touch it, to run my fingers through those waves....

„Ich versuch' dann jetzt mal zu schlafen", she says and I realize that I have probably been staring at her a bit too obviously. For how long, I don't know.