Someday

-They sit in his car, the water trickles down the windshield, as the raindrops fall. He’s telling a story. Something to do with a couple of friends of his. She makes those gestures, the ones that make him think Gui yop ta. She watches him, almost as if waiting for something. She knows. And there’s the moment, he leans into her, his eyes on her, and their lips touch, softly. He pulls back and almost without missing a beat, he continues telling the story, smiling a little wider now. He looks at the door, at the handle, at the umbrella lying next to his foot. He almost opens the door, he looks outside and back at her, at her smile. He leans into the door as if he’s going to open it, but recants the decision. I don’t want this moment to end. There’s something there, and he lets it linger and they sit quietly, a peace about the moment, except for the knowledge that the moment will end. He holds his smile.
“I’ll come around now,” he tells her. She smiles at him. She understands, he thinks she understands. He reaches down for the umbrella. If we could just stay in this space, her and I. The door opens and he feels the wind at his elbow as he steps out. Opening the umbrella, he makes his way to her door. Offering his hand, he helps her out of the car. “It’s a little wet,” he admits as she takes it, his hand. He pulls it back and dries it. “It’s ok,” she says. And he offers it again, this time dried off. She smiles and they walk together under her umbrella. The rain dances on the sidewalk as it scatters into puddles, around them. His arm around her as they walk, he inhales that sweet scent, the scent of her.
The clear glass double doors to her apartment are steamed from the inside, as they approach. She takes out her keys, he watches, as she unlocks the door. He pulls it gently, allowing her to dislodge the key before opening it, fully, for the both of them. It’s happened twice now, he swung the door before she could get the key out and he doesn’t wish to repeat it. As they step inside, they see the security guard walking off. The same one that kept them distant company when they stood in that entry way for an hour, not wanting to part. They stepped outside, to have their own space, that night.
She chuckles, sweetly. They make their way to the elevator, the tips of his fingers grazing the small of her back, over the overcoat she wears. She leans her back against the wall and looks at him, squinting her eyes. “You tired?” she asks. Smiling, “No.” She leans toward him, “really?” He nods. The elevator door opens and they step inside. She presses three and looks at him. He holds her by the waist and leans in close. She pulls back with that mischievous smile. He tilts his head and laughs. The elevator comes to a stop and she stands up straight and there’s a kiss. She brushes past him and makes her way down the hall, he follows her closely behind. “Why do I always want to walk in the other direction?” he asks. Meaning, instead of making a right to her apartment, a left. “You can go,” she says. But he would never, and they walk toward her apartment.
He watches her, there’s the ritual. Every night he’s walked her to her door, she’ll open it and almost peek inside and close it as they stand there. I love this. They stand there and she inserts the key, turning it gently and quietly, to not make a sound. She leaves the door closed and looks at him with a smile. He can’t resist. His arms come to her waist and he holds her, close. He kisses her forehead, softly. She smiles. As they come close in embrace, he kisses her temple and tightens his hold, as he feels her arms tighten around him. Is there anything better?
He pulls back his head and looks at her, his smile present. He comes close and their noses touch. She laughs. He kisses her. She kisses him. They kiss deeply. And as they look at each other, smiling, “You trying to take my gum?” His smile becoming a laugh, a soft laugh, “I didn’t know it was there, I’m impressed,” he says. She chews it exaggeratedly. “I have gum,” with a smile. They share the soft gentle laugh between them. He leans in close, inhaling her scent. He shakes his head, almost without movement. “I don’t want your gum.” “You don’t?” she asks. “I just want you,” he says. She looks at him, his eyes, her smile widening. “You’re gonna take me away?” Without a thought and without pause, knowing, “Someday I will,” he replies. “Someday,” she echoes. She understands. Their kisses stretch out for an hour and the embraces bring them close. He leaves; they’re both tired. He could see it in her eyes. As he walks back down the hall, to the elevator, he can still sense her scent and still Someday, on his mind.