Second Encounters - The Day After We Hooked Up
This is a long awaited follow up to the first Hub I wrote here on HubPages, a love story called First Encounters. This new 2nd part of this "coming out" romantic story has been re-written slightly to ensure honesty ensues. I recommend you check out the first part before reading further here. And yes, there is a third and final part to this romance. Thanks for reading. Now read on.
I am lying in bed, and writing these words as quietly as possible, so as not to awaken the beautiful woman lying beside me. It’s early, 7am. I am barely awake, and yet, fully aware. Thoughts of last night flit through my mind, olive skin, warmth, deep kisses, legs wrapped around legs, jet black hair streaked across her face, warm brown eyes looking at me with adoration, innocence, passion, desire and longing. And such love. Was it too early for there to be love already? And yet it felt like love. Love so amazing, I almost have to bless myself just to make sure I am awake. Did we really do all that? Did she say those things? Her first time? Sharing these blankets together. Trusting me. It got serious. I feel strange. Did she mean what she said? She only met me yesterday, at a gallery.
The kitchen is cold, as I find something to eat, and I think of my Grandmother and the way she would scold me for being in the kitchen barely dressed and making her feel cold. Its funny how, when you are young, and you rarely feel the cold, yet you feel everything. I make our scrambled eggs, and the smell wakes Cathy. She appears, yawning loudly, and grins at me. There is no shame or guilt in her eyes. I smile back. Those crisp warm brown eyes are like jewels that almost hypnotise me. We sit outside with our eggs and coffee and juice, me in my t-shirt and shorts, she with a blanket partly wrapped about her.
Cathy is part Asian, some Thai and some Indian heritage there, and prone to the cold here in the UK. A plume of dark hair sprouts like a curious chimney out of the mountain of blanket around her. She could be a kid out on Girl-Scout Safari. She is starving. The London skyline is quiet and empty. Airplanes are taking off in the distance from Heathrow. She asks me questions about how I bought this place at age 24, how I own a car, why I am so independent, all kinds of things about me. Jeez, where are all these questions coming from? I am a career person, I pushed myself. I worked my ass off. She sees me as a bit of a miracle. A fully formed female at age 25, exactly where I want to be, if she could be me. I chuckle to myself. Me, fully formed? Because I plan my life? That’s a laugh; my grandparents say I am still a big kid! I think back to the time I was being interviewed for a job. A woman in a panel of three people asked me why I felt I was the best Candidate for the job, I told her I more than felt it. I was sure of it. Why, asked a man beside her. Because I get to the Point, I answered. The guy was later to become my boss. He told me he liked my attitude.
I guide the subject to the present. I ask Cathy what is her plan today? She is silent and looks at me, a look, a sweet helpless look that makes me want to rush over and hug her tight. She scrunches her face into this funny expression, then tells me that I am her plan, that there isn’t any other plan.
I smile and tell her that that isn’t much of a plan. The radio in the background is by now playing "Give It Away" by Zero 7, and it suits the mood perfectly. She sits beside me and snuggles with me. She is cold and naked under the blanket. She is terribly beautiful. I want to pinch myself. I ask her how she first knew she was gay. She thinks for a bit. She says she broke up with a few guys, and didn’t understand why. Then she realised after a girl from her class in school snogged her that she liked girls, and liked kissing girls, then found she liked more than kissing, and it just grew from there. She had definitely had a few girlfriends, but nothing as serious as me. Me, I ask. She looks into my eyes, and says she has never slept or spent a night with someone before. Why me, I ask in a whisper. She blushes and beams a big smile at me, and puts her hand to the side of my face, holding it there. It is so natural. She says very few of her friends know she is a lesbian. So Cathy really is a “coming-out” girl. Asking her what her family thought of it all, she becomes sullen. She says her mother is okay-ish. But her father is not okay with it. It has kind of divided her family. She is closer to her Mom. I ask did they know where she was last night. She gets snappy and says it’s none of their business where she was. She doesn’t care. But in her dark beautiful eyes I see emotions there. I see her truth. It's obvious. She does care. I decide to say nothing.
After breakfast, we shower, clean up. I ask her what she wants to do. She wants to hang out with me. She has some texts on her mobile from her mother, but she doesn’t reply to them. We are in my sitting room, I am reading the blurb on a DVD I borrowed from the library. Cathy is flipping through a book of poetry from one of my stuffed bookshelves, a collection of poems by Rumi. She seems awestruck by his flow of consciousness style of writing.
Someone (Suzie, my friend) calls me on my Mobile and I chat for a bit, telling her I had a friend over last night, a really nice girl. Cathy looks at me as I speak. I nod, and smile and say of course the girl is gay, and that her name is Cathy. Cathy goes red. I then tell my friend on the phone that Cathy is very sexy and sweet. Now Cathy’s ears are like two beetroots, they are so red! I laugh here! I tell Suzie that Cathy is blushing the colour of lava right now. We all roar laughing.
The morning sun shines in her luxuriant black hair, as it flows down her neck. Cathy nestles her head on my shoulder, holding onto my arm, and looks at me with an expression of delight and sensuous satisfaction. And something more besides. Her eyes sparkle. It is a look I often see in a face. A special look that eyes like mine are trained to see. It is love. It is affection. It is Affirmation itself. I am dumbstruck by her. For the hundredth time I tell myself this can’t be happening to me. And yet it is. I finish my call. Then sensing what she wants, I kiss her softly. We are now nestling together and London looks on, but we are too lost in the embrace of each others arms to care who sees us, as we snuggle together on the bench on my roof patio. I am her first love. I tell her she is very special. She tells me she wants me. It feels nice to be wanted like that. I feel like a child, I almost want to cry.
We have now been together a night and half a day together. I am impressed. I see a road ahead with so many amazing things. But in a few hours, reality will come crashing in on Cathy like a ton of bricks, throwing everything into doubt.
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