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habituallyqueer t1_j21z2ir wrote

Burned for the Last Time

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"I've been burned for the last time," I sigh, inhaling the cigarette. I look to Dallas and pass it back to him. The smoke bites my inexperienced lungs and I stifle a cough.

"You know how I feel about her. She was never good for you." Dallas shakes his head as he inhales. His lungs are used to surviving off several packs a day.

The cold air wraps me like a blanket. My body shivers as I adjust my position on the curb. A lone streetlight in the distance offers a soft glow around us. I lean closer to him as he wraps his arm around me.

"It doesn't always start off bad, y'know?" I mumble as I lean into his embrace.

"I know, Ava. We grew up together, remember? I’ve seen how they all start." His heavy arm warms my back and shoulders. "We've gotta stop meeting like this. You disappear for months, get heartbroken, and then we finally get to see each other over cigarettes you don't even smoke."

I look at him, praying for kindness in his words.

"You lose yourself every time." He sighs, grabbing me tighter. I feel him shiver too.

I rise from the curb and look down at him. “I need a drink. You?”

“Most certainly.” He reaches his hand up for assistance.

He removes his jacket and wraps it around my narrow shoulders, draping me in the warmth he’d built up. It smells of heavenly sandalwood.

The streetlight illuminates the businesses below it. Dallas adjusts his hat as we walk, lowering it to cover more of his ears as sandy curls poke out. My short legs pick up the pace toward our regular spot: Island Down Under. As we near, I hear the horns. They are loud, and sloppy, and cheerful. I forgot about live music Sundays. We usually avoid it like the plague on these days. Though, it’s been a while.

Dallas turns around with a grin, outreaching his hand. “M’lady, shall we dance to these joyous tunes?” His body shimmies as he poses the question.

I laugh and push his hand away. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

We both giggle as we open the door to the tavern. The trombone is so loud even my long hair shakes as we head straight to the bartender. After ordering, we find a corner to retreat to.

Dallas’ face scrunches a little as he looks at the menu. “Hmm, I think I’m feeling some greasy pizza tonight. What ‘bout you?”

“Great, will I need a napkin for my tears or to wipe up grease?” I fake rub my face as if crying.

We decide on ordering the cheesiest pizza they have. With extra cheese. As we wait, we polish off a few more drinks. Dallas playfully uses the empty glasses as binoculars. Then as a trumpet playing along with the band. We both throw our heads back with laughter.

As the pizza arrives, he begins scarfing it down without coming up for air. I watch him with a small smile.

“What are you ogling at?” He manages with a mouth half-full of pizza.

“It’s just that… I’ve never seen an ogre in its natural habitat,” I barely manage without a laugh.

“Oh stop! Here’s a napkin for your tears!” He tosses his used, greasy napkin across the table.

He jumps out of his seat and grabs my hand, leading me to the dance floor. We are surrounded by folks shaking and shimmying along with the boisterous horns. Dallas wraps his arm around me for another time this evening. He guides my body along with his. I feel his fingers drawing a map on my shoulder.

My gaze lifts to meet his soft hazel eyes. The instrumental riffs blur into a dull background. Our bodies lean closer together. Warmth radiates between us. The freezing cold outside doesn’t seem so bad. I imagine how soft his lips must feel. How loving him would feel. Would I be left ragged and broken like all the other times? Would this be different? Forever ever after? If only life could be so easy.

My daydreams jolt back to reality when I feel him pull me closer before asking, “What’re you thinkin’?”

“It’s the first time I’ve–” I’m cut off by the trumpeters and bass creating a riff that is distractingly off-key, forcing me to save my soppy confession for another time.

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