I opened the door slowly and called out.
No answer. I stepped into her bedroom and took a sharp breath in. My heart was racing. Her room wasn’t anything as I imagined, but it was everything I thought it would be. Large, with an unmade king size bed, unkempt with clothes and shoes and crap strewn everywhere, but beautifully appointed.
I couldn’t believe I had made it all the way through the house unnoticed. Just another party crasher, I suppose. She and her posse must be used to the casual attention of strangers vying to be part of their scene. And now here I was standing in the middle of her bedroom.
As I looked around, I recalled all the times I fantasized about meeting her, being near her, the instant spark that would ignite between us, the times we would spend together, the love we would share. I felt light, almost ethereal. Time moved in and out of the present, past and the future I knew was to be ours.
I walked farther into the room, carefully taking in every detail. My eyes fixed on several bras and panties on the floor. I stared at them for a while, wondering why so much of her underwear was clustered together on the floor, when the thought came to me: She wanted to be ready. She wanted to be just right for the moment. I felt my palms sweat and a stirring in my groin. I reached down to touch the delicate lace of one bra when laughter exploded from the staircase. A man’s laugh followed by a woman’s laugh. Her laugh. Then silence.
I moved quickly to the closet, but strangely, the doors were locked. I panicked. I listened for something, anything, that indicated where they were. Nothing. I considered the bed, but saw it was set on a solid platform. Then I heard soft murmurs and movement. I made a quick move for the bathroom and hid behind the opened door.
The unmistakable sounds of kissing and soft groans increased in volume as they entered the bedroom. I recognized the sounds of clothes coming off; the creak of the platform on which her bed was set. It was excruciating. I wanted to scream! Then the sounds stopped and they started to talk. At first in low voices, but as their conversation continued, their voices grew in volume. I recognized his voice. That asshole!
He’d ruin her. He didn’t, definitely couldn’t love her. I had to act! My mind raced. The talking stopped and the kissing resumed. I carefully stepped out from behind the bathroom door. They both were lying down, eyes closed. I shuddered with horror at seeing her naked body lying with his. I looked down at the floor and quickly tiptoed to the door. Neither of them heard or saw me. I stepped out into the hall and bent over, putting my head between my knees, and took in a deep breath.
I snapped to attention. No, no, no! I whipped around and took two bold steps to the door and knocked.
They scrambled. “What the hell” I heard him say.
I knocked again, opened the door and stepped in. “Oh! I’m, so…sorry. Shit! Sorry! Should I come back later?”
I’ve had “one of those weeks,” but here it is, a Saturday, and, as the saying goes, life goes on. So I thought I’d give this week’s prompts a go. They are: Should I come back later?; The closet was locked; Time becomes elastic. https://aooga.wordpress.com/2019/03/10/olwg-93-abasdarhon/