coast starlight | california

I felt poised between the safe, well-lit room and the rain-soaked night outside. Me in the cold spotlight, standing like a wraith; like someone who never ventured outside. He with his body inclined towards me, one foot inside, his hair dark with moisture, his blue eyes cloudy, slightly blind-looking, already gone. The hallway briefly became the still centre of the universe. I could see trees thrashing behind him. I looked at the way his thigh strained against the damp denim of his jeans. Where've you been? Hiding? Wanna come out to play? he asked me, his voice soft and coaxing. I've missed you like mad. I lifted my hands and somehow pushed him out of the doorway. I felt his warm, thumping chest under my palms. He smelt of wet pavements, alcohol and cigarettes. Get lost, I whispered. He was smiling. Don't think I'm letting you slip away that easy, he said. Just as I went to shut the door he leaned in and kissed me punchily on the lips.

taken from "True Things About Me" by Deborah Kay Davies.