Just Friends

Just Friends

The air was rain-soaked, after a heavy downpour, the sky was crystal clear. Each and every constellation was prominent in the sky, as prominent as the green dots of your dancing hazel green eyes.
You were standing at the edge of the roof, carelessly nursing your glass of red wine, sipping from it occasionally, mixing your red lipstick in the wine. I stood behind you drinking in your moonlit beauty, wishing to entangle your hair between my fingers. "I really like Sylvia Plath you know?" you said out of the blue.
My knowledge of literature is quite lacking but I still ventured -"The one who burned her head in an oven?" You cackled, "Yes, the one who wrote lines like Out of the ash I rise with my red hair and I eat men like air." You paused and then added as if unsure you should tell me about it or not "and the most famous and my favorite one being: Dying is an art..."

Just Friends

"Scary" I concluded.
You smiled. I lit a cigarette. You asked for a puff. I asked for a sip. You finished your drink. I finished my cigarette. "Do you believe in love?" you asked. "I do"
"We are just friends and I don't want to ruin that. I hope you understand that"
"I do"
"You will not expect anything from me. You will give me hugs and come over to my place only when I ask you to. You can't be impulsive around me. Do you understand that?"
"I do"
"Do you believe in destiny?"
"I do, but I don't want to lose you."
"You don't have to if you follow the rules."
You went quiet, probably forming galaxies of thoughts in your head.
I cleared my throat and said, "Now that I have taken the marriage vows on behalf of the groom as well as the bride, shall we go to bed?"
You laughed again, a full-throated laugh.
As you go to pour yourself more wine, Sivan plays from the player "I want you/I'll color me blue/anything it takes to make you stay..."
The night deepens and so does the silence between us. It's like a burden on our shoulders. The sun will never rise, the stars will not fade, your blurred hazel eyes will always shine, the wine will sparkle like your sequined dress and I will watch you fall asleep with your hair all over the pillow, your smudged kohl-lined eyes. As the first bird starts chirping, I lean in to kiss you. I taste the wine on your lips, your mintish breath, smell your sweat mixed perfume. You don't resist. We make love hurriedly. There's an urgency to it. The sun cannot rise, we cannot let the night go. Hold on. Hold on to me. I whispered innumerable promises in your ears, I
rocked you in my arms.
When I woke up the next day, you were gone. Your warmth still lingering inside me. I rang you up but your number wasn't valid anymore.

I got drunk that evening. The chink of the ice in my beer seemed to accentuate my loneliness. The murky liquid in the glass complimented my vision. Clutched in my fist, I have a note from you -  Sylvia Plath ones said, "Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, It is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing." You shouldn't have broken your marriage vows. I hope you understand.  Love always. "I do" I whisper "Please". My voice chokes in some deep recess of my body. Finishing my beer in one clean gulp, I wonder which new oven will you find to stick your head in, how will you let yourself burn.

Thanks.💕