Private — @belleartmovement (english version)Belle ART Movement
by Alina Simu
The tall body, covered by large and comfortable clothes and with the shirt which flower pattern is left unbuttoned for the most part of his chest, stops to admire the house in front of him. His olive toned neck elongates into an even prettier face with the same skin tone, but streaked by a couple of days unshaved beard, but that it looks clean. He greets a few friends by throwing a glance at them. Going down the staircase a few girls wave to him, then they smile to one another, trying to communicate their excitement. He knows he’s a handsome man, he’s been told since he was only a high school student. Now, at twenty-five he thinks he’s at his peak when it comes to his looks, his masculine, yet gentle features, making it easy for him to get remarked in a crowd.
From the door frame the music is shaking his heart, feeling the rhythm deep in his stomach. Everybody is wearing something on their wrist, but he doesn’t have anything although he’s been invited. He likes private parties, police rarely shows up, and it’s even rarer when they intervene. He crosses the hallway until he reaches the kitchen. Half naked girls are fixing up drinks, while standing on any available countertop. He grabs a glass half full of a liquid that reminds him of smoky quartz.
Sipping little by little, he watches from the couch as everything unfolds in front of him. With his arms open wide on the back of the sofa, two girls sit on either side of him. Because of the load music he doesn’t understand anything that they are saying. According to the intonation of their voices he realizes there is no question aimed to him, so he just raises his upper lip into a smirk. At the top of the staircase, painted by the shadow created by the wall, there she is, in a white lace dress, long enough to cover her thighs, complementing her rounded knees. She looks upon the whole room, trying to figure out if he made it.
He gets up, leaving his almost untouched drink on the coffee table. He goes up the stairs, maintaining the eye contact. He stops himself from offering her his biggest smile and so does she, stopping herself by biting the insides of her cheek.
“You have a gorgeous home,” he tells her when he reaches her and bends down to kiss her cheeks, her hand remaining in his.
“Oh, is this really the first thing you’re telling me?”
“I don’t think you want me to say out loud here what I really want to tell you. Maybe in private,” his voice becomes a husky whisper. “For obvious reasons I didn’t expect you to invite me…”
The light in the hallway has a reddish tinge to it highlighting his now honey stained eyes. She leans her hip against the wall, but somehow the space between them becomes narrower.
“Obvious reasons you say? Well, I’m single tonight”.
“You see, this is the problem, tonight you’re single, but you are not single in general”.
“I understand that you don’t want to be alone with me tonight,” the woman glances over her shoulder only to turn back to him. “And I’ve thrown this whole party only for you…”
“For me?” he scoffs. “If this party is thrown for me I might as well have some fun,” he says destroying the last piece of space left between them.