a little less than the girl next door (in_transit) wrote,
a little less than the girl next door

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you're still here :)

i stand, as usual, at one side of the sliding doors of the mrt train. i finger my red checked sweater nervously. i'm never at ease alone on trains. there's always too little to do, and too many reflective surfaces to look into. awkwardly, i shift my weight onto my other leg. i tap one foot impatiently. such meeting arrangements never fail to make me feel edgy.

the train slows into the station, coming to a gradual halt. i peer out of the window anxiously. there he is, at the exact spot, peering right back in. i break into a wide smile of immense relief. all that tension felt before slides off me. i ease my back against the pane of the seat divider i'm leaning against. he flashes his big playful grin back at me; so comforting.

the doors open, and the customary greeting as he steps in. i can't resist that head of toothbrush bristles. for a while, i entertain the thought, again, of using them to clean my teeth. my giggles, as always, are insuppressible. we feel people's eyes swerving toward us. he manages to look amused, puzzled, and appreciative all at once. we exchange positions as he turns to lean against the divider. white shirt again, today.

that's when i notice the large envelope he's holding on to. i suspect he's trying to distract me by making me turn to face the other side. but he has one hand around my waist and i don't turn back. he slouches to rest his chin on my shoulder, literally breathing down my neck. i feel his chest heaving against my back. he seems pretty out of breath today. must have run to catch this train, i think.

he shuts his eyes, expelling a quivery half-sigh. something continues thumping rhythmically against my back. then i notice him fingering my sweater! i open my mouth to question him, when the train rumbles into a tunnel; i change my mind. glancing into a reflection in a window, i catch him giving himself the naughtiest, most contented smile i've ever seen on him.

suddenly realising, he shifts, holding back that smile. now it looks slightly guilty. and his eyes take on a knowing look. he tightens his grip so i'm unable to turn around to interrogate him. i stamp my foot in mock displeasure and jabs my elbow into his stomach. after a most satisfactory grunt of surprise from him, he rubs his thumb on mine, in turn. and flashes yet another of his famous grins through the reflection.

it isn't my favourite edison-type of lopsided one; rather, it's a very even, teeth-revealing, beam. i don't know exactly how to describe it, but it's certainly something really perfect to see, i think. i love it. it addles my brains. i have nothing left to question him on; nothing even vaguely childish, to hold against him. but that he's solely responsible for the state of my mind. but of course, that doesn't even occur to me.

and if i sound yu3 wu2 lun2 ci4: the mere memory of it has such an effect. i'm unable to continue. i'm so lost without you. (yet i lose myself in your eyes.) anything else can wait 'til it's home.
Tags: pix an' proems

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