I woke up wondering if it all was just a wonderful dream. Actually I woke up to the mexican hat dance song. I ignored it. I looked past the ceiling and into the past. Last night was the best night of my life. Caleb cooked me Fettichini Carbonara. We sat and ate infront of the tv. The tv entertained itself. Caleb watched my mouth. I did more than just masticate. I did savour. I felt full. Nourished.
Afterwards. There was that temptation again. It was dark and we pretended not to stare at each other. Pretended to watch the tv. I aburptly broke the spell. I got up and took my plate. I walked to the couch and scooped up his plate. Caleb followed me to the kitchen.
" You are not doing dishes" he ordered
" You can't cook me an orgasmic meal and expect me to just sit there. I'm doing dishes. Sit the fuck down."
He stole the plates from my hands and walked to the dish washer. Me being implusive me tried to grab them back. They slipped both of our fingers and clattered to the ground. One lay in pieces. I started laughing and he followed.
We both started picking up the pieces but our hands didn't touch. Our eyes met and departed. We both tried to focus at the task at hand. But I heard it. Clear as if he said it out loud" Don't kiss her"
So I kissed him. It was quick and juevenile but it was enough. Caleb was tightening his fist and cutting his hands to shreds. Caleb was still holding the glass. He swore and tosed the glass in the garbage. I wasn't surprised to see his hand heal in seconds.
What surprised me is he didn't deny that nothing happened. He sat silently watching tv an he touched his lips. I wondered if they felt different to him? Were they warmer now? Mine certainly were.