Intoxication

In the distance, she approaches. His first reaction is one of awe. How such a magnificent presence can fit into such a small frame is beyond his comprehension. She radiates a rare combination of confidence and humility. Her gaze is direct. Precise. Leaving no doubt in his mind that she is looking at him, he feels instant gratitude for the small gesture. The presence of his acquaintances, as well as hers, fade from his view, replaced with the conflictingly simple complexity of a true woman's aura. Suddenly... tension. Fear. Even as she draws nearer, he feels the drop. The uncertainty. The tiny prick of self-consciousness, growing like some hyperactive tumor on his soul. He can never get used to it, no matter how many times it occurs. The aching realization of his incapability to be free. The restrictive power of a painful past suffocating his desires. Closer still, and his tongue is suddenly lifeless. Instinctive actions take on a forced quality. All due to the assumption of an impending downfall... one that he is all too familiar with, and has gone to great lengths to avoid... rejection... the most simultaneously devastating and cleansing emotional catastrophe known to man...

Angela quietly stepped into her bathroom, closing the door behind her with a soft creak. Stripping down to her underwear, she glanced at her semi-nude body in the mirror. Her hair had the ruffled look that only late night antics and afternoon awakening could bring. Turning on her shower, she almost missed the sound of the front door to her apartment opening and closing with a thud. Cutting the steaming water off, she shrugged into her bathrobe and stepped into the hallway outside of her bedroom. Shuffling into her vacant living room, she was curiously aware of how empty the air had become. Walking back towards the bathroom, she stopped and knocked on Ashley's half-closed room door. Her roommate poked her head through the crack, sporting the same disheveled look that Angela had noticed about herself.
"What's up?" Ashley said groggily.
"Did Chad just get here?" Angela asked.
"No, he's been here all night. Why?"
"Because I just heard the door open and I thought he had just gotten here."
Opening the door a bit more, Ashley gestured towards the nude body that lay sprawled across her bed.
"Been here since we got back last night. Maybe it was Sean."
Angela glanced towards her still closed room door, a sudden recognition of the situation displayed on her face. Walking towards the entrance, she realized the door was actually slightly open. Pushing it inwards, she studied the indentation left behind on her now empty bed. She felt Ashley's presence behind her and turned to face her.
"Did he say goodbye?"
"No... and he leaves this afternoon..."

Each time her lips part to reveal a glimpse of heaven, time seems to automatically suspend. It is almost as if her emotions run the universe... or at least run his. Impulsive conversations arise from dull subject matter. The throaty, sensual sound of her voice melts over his eardrums, drowning all peripheral sound. Sliding her hand into his own, he sees such a perfect fit in the grasp that he has no choice but to reconsider his own views on creation. If existence is as random as he believes, then there shouldn't even be the possibility of things feeling as right as... this. He records the sound of her laughter to his memory before lowering his mouth to hers and feeling the thrill of prospects... with a sudden, familiar, fear of the unknown....

Driving had become so automatic that Angela rarely ever noticed she was home until she had already parked and opened her car door. Grabbing her briefcase and purse, she stepped out onto the gravelly concrete posing as a paved road leading up to her apartment complex. Quickly checking her mail and finding none, she climbed the three flights of stairs which led to her floor. She had barely managed to pull her keys from her bag when the front door of her apartment opened to reveal the pajama-clad presence of her roommate.
"Didn't you say Sean was leaving?" Ashley said, one hand on her hip, the other blocking Angela's entrance.
The name sent an unusual chill throughout her body, not entirely unpleasant, but entirely unexpected. Sean had barely crossed her mind in the three days since he had abruptly left her apartment.
"Yeah, his flight was that same day."
Ashley stepped aside as Angela ducked into the apartment.
"Well, he sent you something."
Angela looked up at Ashley as she pointed towards their dining room table. Approaching the rustic piece of furniture tentatively, she glimpsed a hint of red over one of the chairs. Coming closer, she was stopped in her tracks by the sight of the roses. A dozen. A peculiar sensation emerged in her feet and quickly traveled up the length of her body. The small greeting card was suspended on a plastic stick from the vase that itself held the magnificent flowers. One word was displayed in scratchy handwriting: sorry... Pulling the card from the vase, Angela turned back towards Ashley who still stood by the now closed door. Now she had one hand on each hip.
"The hell is he sorry about?" Ashley asked.
Angela looked up and stared blankly.
"It was a weekend thing anyways. Not like you were trying to get with him or anything. Kind of conceited, isn't he?" Ashley's face displayed the perverse satisfaction she always took in discrediting men.
Angela bowed her head and studied the letters before looking back up.
"Yeah... I barely even knew him."
"Exactly. You got yours, that's all that matters." Ashley turned and hopped over to their living room couch, grabbing the television remote on the way. Angela turned back towards the roses and gently brushed the raised glass on the vase.
"Didn't you tell him that this was just for fun? I mean, he doesn't even live here." Ashley flipped through the channels in her characteristically random manner.
"Yeah... I mean no... I mean... I figured he knew." Angela spoke quietly, her mind engaged in a conflict without basis. She hadn't thought about him. She hadn't even planned anything past that night. She had no reason to plan anything now.
"Well, he'll figure it out. Just ignore him." Ashley chuckled quietly to herself. "Or you can call him and tell him they're having a sale on 5 karat diamonds at Zales. If he starts saving now, he might have enough by time your ready."
Angela turned and realized she was still holding her purse and briefcase. Dropping them in the corner and slipping out of her jacket, she found her eyes continuously drifting towards the blossoms of red.
"What makes you so sure I'll ever be ready?" Angela asked, trying in vain to distract herself.
Ashley leaned forward and smiled in Angela's direction.
"We're all ready at some point. Some people just choose to ignore it." Sitting back, Ashley continued her random flipping. "But don't worry. It's not like your missing out on anything now. You just met the guy. It's not like he means anything. He was just a little hot. Too young anyways. Probably got issues."
Angela softly brushed a single rose petal with the tip of her index finger.
"Yeah..."

Her skin held a numbing combination of exotic perfume and feminine body wash. But it was the latent scent that was most titillating; the smell of her. Underneath the mask of artificial aroma, his adrenaline-laced senses could almost taste her pure essence. Her back curled in feline ecstasy, his hand finding its rightful place nestled in the dimple of her bare back. Her lips swam over his own, her silky hair falling slowly across his shoulder. Consciousness suspended, primal instinct revealed, the hunger of desire overtook them both. The whispers in his ear invaded his mind. Pleasant. Persistent. Sensually pervasive. Damp, cooling skin warmed to his touch as he felt himself rise even higher, succumbing to the call of freedom. Elevated in a culmination of the flesh, unique in every way, the release of control burst from him with unrestricted intensity. Opening his eyes, he gazed into hazel tinted ovals; striking radiance with an uncanny awareness....

The knock was particularly gentle. Angela had to turn down the television in the living room and wait for it the person to knock again before she realized it wasn't her imagination. Hopping from the chair she approached the front door.
"Ashley, I think the Chinese food is here," she yelled towards the bedroom hallway. Opening the door, she looked up into a face full of questions, eyes searching for the answers. Angela heard Ashley coming down the hallway and stop. Without a word, Ashley returned to her room with a faint click as she closed her door. Angela registered Ashley's departure subconsciously, and remained speechless for reasons she couldn't determine.
"I... I wanted to see you again."
His voice broke the momentary spell and she felt the now frequent internal conflict arise from within. She had felt it in every moment that she had imagined this face, these hands, this voice. Staring up into Sean's face, she remained at a loss for both words and actions. He glanced inside the apartment before fixing his eyes back on hers.
"Can we talk?"
Silently, Angela stepped aside and Sean entered. Removing his jacket, she examined the shoulders that she had grabbed a week earlier... the back she had scratched... the arms that had lifted her...
"I thought you left already." The sound of her voice ended her momentary flashback and she felt the conflict gradually begin to fade. Sean's eyes shifted in her direction as he took a seat on her couch. Angela rested on the coffee table across from him, staring intently at his avoiding eyes. He seemed extremely nervous. Not as confident as the man she had met that night.
"I did. Then I came back. Listen, I have to talk to you." He shifted in his seat. Angela leaned back, bracing herself with her hands. Continuing to stare at the side of his turned head, she felt the conflict rise up once again.
"No problem. What do you want to talk about?"
Sean finally met her eyes, and there was a cauldron of emotions which Angela couldn't pinpoint. Surprisingly, none of them seemed to be sadness.
"You... and me." He stood up and walked over to her balcony door, staring through her opened blinds. "I have a lot to say, but I don't know how to say it."
"Well... just start at the beginning," Angela said calmly.
Sean turned towards her, his jaw set with determination.
"Ok. I don't know when it happened, how it happened, or why. I don't know when, in that short period of time we spent together, I stopped looking at you as some chick and started looking at you as the chick. I don't know how I went from trying to get laid to trying to talk. I don't know why I went from never thinking about you for more than a fleeting second at first... to having to try and force myself to think about anything else. I don't know what you did to me, or what I allowed you to do... but I just want to thank you."
Once again, Angela felt herself caught in the gripping effects of speechlessness. She managed to let a single sentence escape the lump in her throat.
"Thank me... for what?"
Sean's face lit up as the true reason for his sudden and inexplicable return became apparent. He hurriedly returned to the couch, grabbing her hands as he sat down. Angela felt the tingle of remembrance as his skin touched her own. She broke her gaze away from their interlocked fingers and looked into the eyes of a man driven by passion.
"I want to thank you for releasing me." Sean paused, seemingly allowing the statement to marinate in Angela's mind. She remained silent, hoping for an elaboration. Sean looked down at her hands and began to speak.
"My last girlfriend killed my resolve. It wasn't taking me long to get over her as much as it was taking forever to get over what she did to my self-esteem. I had no confidence after her. None whatsoever. As a result, I did some things I shouldn't have. Which did nothing but make things worse. Eventually, I realized I wasn't doing anything but hurting myself, so I stopped. Stopped everything. I refused to date, to have sex, to be romantic... to have anything but strictly friendly contact with these women that I knew I'd never relate to. Ever."
Angela shifted as Sean let go of her hands. The uneasiness that had seemed to consume him earlier had fled for the moment.
"It was going good... for a while. Then I started getting lonely. So... I moved. Which did nothing but make it worse. I put myself in a position where I had to stay somewhere completely foreign to me, surrounded by people I knew nothing about and, frankly, didn't want to get to know. Then... I met you."
Another pause. This one a bit longer as Sean seemed to be contemplating what he would say next.
"When I met you, I'm sorry, I didn't see anything particularly spectacular. I mean, you're beautiful, but I've had enough experience to know that beauty really is only skin deep. Nothing that would make me want to abandon my newfound philosophy. But... you did something." Another pause. "You talked to me. Yeah... you talked to me. As opposed to talking down to me, or waiting for me to talk to you. It was like, there was a real conversation taking place. I know this must seem kind've un-spectacular to you, but you have no idea what I've dealt with in the past. Lack of intelligence is just the beginning. I've seen everything. The fakest degenerates of society, the most self consumed bigots, all the way down to women so willing to please they seemed almost robotic. I guess what I'm saying is that I saw... I saw a pleasant conflict in you. I saw the existence of a type of woman that can challenge as much as she can please. The type of person that can help me grow..."
His voice faded as he fell into a thoughtful trance. Angela stared attentively, anticipating more candid exposure.
"...I hadn't realized it until I met you, but I was beginning to forget what it felt like to actually like somebody. It had been such a long time... that I thought I had lost something. That I had become too cynical. Too jaded."
Sean reached for her hands again, pulling her closer and stared into her eyes with an intoxicating and hypnotic depth of his own.
"I'm thanking you for that. For this. I'm thanking you for reminding me that there is a chance for everybody to find somebody. For reminding me what it feels like to wake up and have the first thought in your mind be about somebody other than yourself. I'm thanking you... for giving me hope."
Sean stood and walked towards the front door of the apartment. He stopped directly in front of it and turned. Angela remained on the coffee table, staring at her hands, deep in thought. Sean studied her before speaking.
"And I want to thank you, most of all, for making me realize that I don't have to fear rejection... because just the act of having feelings like this is good enough on its own… Goodbye Angela."
Sean stepped out of the apartment, locking the door behind him. Angela sat, unmoving. Her mind had been thrown into a state of turmoil so intense she had no choice but to weather the storm. Eventually she stood... and sat right back down on the couch. Turning her head slowly, she stared at the front door of her apartment, wondering what exactly had just happened.

He gazes at the curves of her body beneath the satin sheets. Tracing the contours of her hips, her shoulders, her neck, he experiences a tingling sensation that grows and resonates through his soul. The soft sound of her breath, the rise and fall of her chest, all combine in a form of beauty he has never encountered. It is within him as well as in her. Something he hadn't realized was there. Not totally unfamiliar. Extremely pleasant. Too pleasant. Oh God, he's gone too far. This can't be good. There's nothing </i>this<i> good. He turns and closes his eyes. Sleep. It will go away in the morning. But sleep eludes. There she is, in the bathroom, shower running... go... go now... before it's too late.…… and the door slams with a soft thud...

Another knock. This one louder than before. Angela was clueless as to how long she had been sitting on her couch. It could have been minutes; judging by the sun's position, it had probably a bit longer. The knock came again. Standing up, she slowly approached the door in a daze. The Chinese food... yes. Unlocking the door and turning to call out to Ashley again, she stopped as the door swung open and Sean stepped inside. Pulling her close, he captured her eyes with a piercing, poignant stare. Silently, they slowly drew into each other. The feel of his lips was a revelation on its own. As she fell into the moment, she felt the conflict gradually flow out of her. Down the hall, a bedroom door opened, and Ashley's head poked out.
"Dammit, you two..... where the hell is my Chinese food?!"