Lash

Chapter 11: Potions of Love, Wandering Minds

“You mean like cure diseases,” Tessa said.

“More than that. Expand your mind, Tessa.”

Remi fell silent and chewed on a stick of grass. Several times, Tessa wanted to get up off the dirt, but Remi kissed her before she could speak. Another ten minutes would pass, more kissing and shoulder rubbing. Tessa’s coffee was long gone and she needed another, and her final cue to make a stand to leave. Coffee could be made fresh at his place, and he wanted to show her something.

They walked past the coffee house on the way to his car, an old beat-up sedan not long for this world, and drove to the nondescript warehouse where she spent the night before last. Inside it was stuffy and smelled like rubbing alcohol infused with a pinching sweet, synthetic odor, obviously not edible. Brown boxes and the recent headlines of the newspaper peppered the surroundings as visiting objects, not quite settled in. A concrete floor dressed with a shag carpet the color of cream invited a guest and framed a black leather couch, the only real piece of furniture. She remembers the egg crate next to the bed and the mattress in the corner of the floor, only this time it was covered with a black comforter. The place felt oddly clean, and if Tessa could peer behind the brick wall dividing the space, she would have seen shiny, scientific equipment churning neon colors.

“So, you live you here?”

“Don’t you remember it?” Remi grabbed her from underneath her ribs, lifting her ever so slightly off the ground in an embrace. His stubble rubbed against her cheek to mark the only passage of time, and reminded Tessa to call Joelle. She would be worried and had probably made herself sick already. She left the house early to fetch coffee and left no note. It had seemed like weeks ago.

Tessa borrowed Remi’s phone, the memory of his old phone well into the past, as if she were living some parallel existence in this warehouse; whatever came before outside does not enter into their newly shared space together, lounging on the couch, drinking inexpensive wine, ordering for take-out. The hours passing between them as if no one else existed.

The previous night’s shenanigans got the slightest mention, “Did we?”

“No, Tessa. Who do you take me for?” He collected her feet in his lap for a rub.

Tessa shot off a quick message to Joelle that she was all right, not to wait up, and that she would see her tomorrow.

They fell into bed soon after, Tessa awash in a sensual glow of Remi’s perfumes dabbed on her wrist, her neck, her stomach, her ankles. Remi’s hand brushed her upper thigh, “Am I forgetting something?” A fruity cornucopia of love potions made Tessa heady, rubbing thick liquid on every inch of her skin, exposed and revealed in the candlelit cove of the corner.

Remi’s brushed the curves of her body lightly as if not to leave a trace, letting his fingers fall where they may in non-rhythmic pulses like feathers. Tessa’s moans of delight barely noticed and were only afterthoughts to Remi’s wandering mind..

He positioned himself on top of her with minimal movement, his sexual exploits a learned method similar to his scientific endeavors. Before Tessa fully opened her eyes, Remi climbed inside of her as if her body were a cave healing a wounded animal. His breath hot on her cheek, and his silence observing her like a cold presence in the room, calling out to her to respond.  She wrapped her legs around his slim hips, engulfed in his deep, rhythmic thrusts, her moans an uneven match to his quiet calm. Remi grunted, and pushing himself into her warmth, and collapsed on top of her, sticky and depleted. Tessa observed the sweat dripping down the side of his face, glowing in the flickering candlelight. Remi rolled off Tessa, and they laid side by side staring at the ceiling in the darkness, smiles stretching across their faces. Their fingers found each other, clasping for a squeeze.

“I’d say we did it that time,” Tessa said, regretting it for its shallowness, but had nothing else to share.

 “And it won’t be the last, I hope.” He laughed and kissed her softly, but cut the moment short, by turning on the light and bouncing out of bed, even though there was no bounce to be had in the mattress.

 He quickly dressed as if he were going somewhere, but wouldn’t stop talking; Tessa strained to get a word in. Each time a moment elapsed, he slammed her with idea fragments and too rushed to allow himself to finish; his mind working faster than his lips could move. Their coupling opened Remi up in ways that Tessa hadn’t expected, divulging information about chemical reactions and ionic displacement, and the endless possibilities of makeup. It was a witch’s brew unleashed and Tessa’s head felt murky with extended details. She fell short on enthusiasm and let him ramble on.

 “Let me put it this way, Tessa,” he said. “Just imagine, a blink of an eye could open a door. A kiss could do damage. A kiss could set off fireworks, and I mean real fireworks. Even fingernails, your skin or even a series of a few facial movements can be programmable actions, setting in motion a series of cascading events. Think about that. It’s like Google glass without the glass. Understand what I’m saying?”

Words escaped her. She recalled the mini explosions that happened in the presence of the lipstick but had difficulty connecting the dots, as she fought off sleep.

"And the lipstick on my lips," she murmured.

The only explanation she really wanted was her head on a pillow, and silence.