Don't dream, when you can't make it real. They're only fictions anyway - Moddi, A Sense of Grey

Dance, when you're broken open. Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. Dance, in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance, when you're perfectly free - Rumi

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Jul 3, 2012

But You Don't Really Care For Music, Do You?

He wakes up mid afternoon, owing mostly to the electricity..rather lack of. The sunlight is barely visible behind the thick velvet curtains and the room is suffocating because of the summer heat they have trapped in; the room smells of stale smoke, whiskey and sex. This is why he hates spending the night at her place. The curtains make the room feel like a steel box in the middle of a desert.
However, the sex here is just so much better. She's like a wild animal in here; the room is her terrain and she works it beautifully, and with it him.
She stirs next to him, half covered by the thin blanket, in her pink snoopy shirt and black shorts, beads of sweat rolling down her collarbone. She never sleeps naked. He asked her about it once, expecting some complicated answer like she usually gives. "If I die in my sleep, I don't want people to find me naked." Quite simple really.
She shifts and faces him, placing her hands between her thighs. Fuck. She doesn't even let her defenses down in her sleep. Most girls change positions just so they can subtly put their arms around the guy.
He stares at her intently, studying her, as though trying to see into her dreams. Her eyes flash open and she stares back, but says nothing. He isn't even sure if she is awake, but he breathes easy when she smiles her groggy, morning smile; frowning, tiny twitch of the lips and a wrinkling of the nose. She lies on her back and stares into space. "Thinking about him again?" he asks, the irritation in his voice evident. She smiles without looking at him, throws her blanket off and goes to brush her teeth. This was another one of her little habits; she never spoke in the morning unless her breath smelt she'd swallowed a whole mint bush; "Common courtesy," she said.
She comes out and kisses him lightly on his forehead, He hated that; it felt more like an act of condescension than one of love. Sitting on the couch, she lights up a Dunhill. "You can open the curtains if you want."

And he knows she had dreamed about him. She hated sunlight. The curtains were her way of apologizing. She felt guilty for the dream.
"I don't understand women."
"Let's not have this conversation."
"Why always the bad boys? Why always the damaged ones and your need to save them?"
She smiles again, flicking the ash on the carpet.
"Who said anything about saving them?"
"Well then, what else can it be? She looks at him for a moment as she inhales and sighs.

"Because they appeal to our sense of impending doom," she answers, crushing the half smoked cigarette on the table, her signal that the conversation was now over.


  1. dunhil..she's not classy..why not menthols or Mores ? if she's like a wild animal then why is she in a snoopy shirt..? guy is a total wuss..why doesnt he grab her n smell her silky hair..?

    1. Menthols? Really? That is like inhaling vicks and water.
      Secondly, it wasn't what she wears, but what she does in bed that makes her a wild animal.
      Third,because the relationship is mostly one of indifference. What bothers him is not how she feels about him, but how she treats him. He doesn't love her, he is fascinated by her.
      But well, to each his/her own interpretation.

    2. Lol and regarding your point about grabbing her, you can write your own story where he isn't a "wuss"

  2. "She doesn't even let her defenses down in her sleep.." n still she is able to do something that confers her to be wild.?

    He stares at her intently, studying her, as though trying to see into her dreams - "AS THOUGH"(thats barrier) may be he really loves her..she didnt see it, didnt feel it.

    my story - write for whom and where,no one wants to read it,nor haf any blog of my own, and then my grammar is so poor like a 5th grader..

    1. I meant emotional defenses. Not sexual ones. And he doesn't love her. He wants to understand her; how she thinks and why. And if you have a story to tell, who cares about the grammar.

    2. if you read it in conjunction with "placing her hands between..." so it doesnt interpret emotional defense in anyway. ok suppose if its an emotional defense then why is she putting up same when he wants to know her n possibly love her with this all being already a relationship of indifference(one sided) she sure must be expecting him to love her back then why defense?

      anyways whatever they r having a good time :P

    3. Because it isn't that type of relationship. Sometimes, two people are together just because they fascinate each other, infatuation, lust...anything.
      Because she doesn't love him. She is just with him for the sex. And he is okay with that arrangement. He just wants to know why she is so obsessed with the other guy. It is just plain curiosity.

    4. nice arrangement , do we call that arrangement friends with benefits? how does it feel being in same , is it acceptable by society in this part of world? bree im so naive.
      oh that "him" refers to another guy? i thought she was dreaming abt the same guy..anyways nothing new girls keep all options open.

  3. I "demand" a more elaborate answer to the question "why always the bad boys"?

    I think you owe us guys that much :)

  4. Loved it. I sketched the whole scene right in my head. :)