The rain roared down from the heavens. I could feel the impacts strike me through my thin coat; a barrage of large droplets that just bordered on painful. The air stank of ozone and swelled with a thick closeness that promised the storm. I knew that I would be soaked within seconds.
I glanced over at the man keeping pace with me in the downpour. At first it seemed his face was cast downwards towards the ground, but his eyes flicked over to me after a second or two. I looked away and we played a childish game where we pretended not to notice each other's attention. The water ran over my lips and into my mouth. It seeped down my spine.
It was cold and we'd been abandoned. Nervousness fluttered once in my breast, but I discarded it. There was something about the dense air and battering rain that washed away barriers of self-protection or self-control. I stopped walking and waited. He turned back to me after a single pace; responsive and quick to act. Thunder cracked and roared as I stepped into him and pulled his head down to mine.
I'd come to the city to visit my brother in his new house. He had always been an excitable person and was eager to spend some time with his younger sister, mostly to show me how fun his life was. A day after I arrived, one of his old friends from university showed up, clearly feeling a similar curiosity and opportunity to catch up.
I'd met this friend before, and liked him. We had got on well but never really spent much time together. I couldn't say why, but we always seemed to be passing each other at different stages of life. I remember laughing with him on cool summer evenings, and prodding fun at my brother together with him. But I can't remember why I hadn't spent time with him beyond that. It was a pleasant surprise to see him again, but this time something felt different. Our exchanges felt more formal but thrilling; like there was some dangerous tension between us that could break with the wrong words. It compelled me in ways I didn't understand.
The next day we had all three gone out to the cinema, and then to a local restaurant. With my brother there to break the suspense and draw attention and conversation towards him, it had gone well. We had painted some casual comfortability over the volatile pressure I had sensed when we were alone. It was safer to leave it there, but I didn't want safety. I wanted to lose control and taste passion once again. I wanted this man that I knew but hadn't spent time with. I wanted his hands on me and I wanted to make a mark on him that he wouldn't forget.
So when the heavens had opened and the storm had broken over us, I had shouted at my brother that I would catch up with him as he held his jacket over his head and dashed for home. I waited to see if his friend would run away too, but he had stayed with me. We walked the streets together and within seconds were completely alone.
That's when I'd stopped walking and made my move.
I looked up into his dark blue eyes and put one finger on my lips. Then I pushed it to his and let myself touch his skin for the first time. I pulled on his chin and our mouths joined together in a kiss that felt like my very first.
I felt the cool purse of his lips blend with the warm interior of his mouth. His tongue caressed my lips as his grip tightened on my arms. I shivered from the heat and pressure. I began to melt; softly and like a well behaved woman should. My form eager to conform to his, and be supported by the strength of his design.
Then I felt hunger swell up and overrun me. Take him. Draw him into vulnerability. Bite down into him. Slake my thirst with all that he has.
I pulled back from him. My eyelashes were heavy with rain but I needed to see. How much did he sense of my thoughts? My needs? Would he recoil if I bared them to him?
He cast a shadow over me and looked without seeing. But I didn't feel nervous. His face was framed by dripping clusters of hair, and his mouth was open for more, but he was still the same. He hadn't changed and perhaps he never would. But I felt that he knew my need and didn't shrink from it. It didn't matter if he felt the exact same as I did, or thought as I did. I knew him and I knew that I could depend on him, and his quiet focus. He liked me and wanted me too. I doubted there was anything I could do that would change his mind. I was tempted to try anyway.
My nipples were hard from the cold and the rain, but they toyed with discomfort and pain as we stood there. I hadn't worn a bra today, and wondered if I would regret it later. His hands were still on my upper arms, so I took one of them and cupped it over my breast. He squeezed gently but didn't pull or paw. I grabbed his ear roughly and dragged him down for a kiss again.
Rivers were born and ran freely across us. The sky crashed and split and cried. Always the rain beat down on us. I don't think we hurried home, or even went faster with the suppressed hope of warmth and the kiss of our skin on each other at home. But maybe I'm remembering wrong, and we rushed and ran like desperate teenagers. I don't think we'd said a single word to each other the entire time. We held hands and I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles. I think we were probably alone in the world at that time.
When my brother's house loomed out of the liquid haze my heart started to beat faster. I could feel it pushing steadily against my ribs as we crossed the street.
