he asked me for another meeting. before the hotel one, we'd seen each other once, if i don't count those ones almost two years ago. i insisted to meet up somewhere in the city for an hour or so. to make sure that he's the same guy he used to be? to find out if he's still so .., after two or three shots of vodka or pure tequilla /it's not for men, to drink anything else, you remember?/, two of us sitting at the opposite sides of the table, him telling me to sit nearer as he didn't hear what i was saying because the music was too loud /apparently, he didn't care what i was saying all the time/. i drank half a liter of wine and tried to talk properly and by that time, he had the same problems with his own tongue.
i just wanna know how it feels, tell me. what feeling does it have
to be, when it makes you look that way?
i won't kiss ya here, in front of all those people, unless you object.
of course not. it was enough to sit nearer and nearer as the evening passed, to whisper and laugh from time to time, while the tip of my tongue touched accidentally your ear for a second.
we took a taxi to the station, as he didn't want me to go by tram. there, we stood still, looking at each other bashfully. he said goodbye, i said goodbye. i turned away and wanted to leave. wait! he grabbed my hand and pushed me against the nearest wall carelessly. kiss. and i had to bend my knees a bit to make our lips be in the same high.
