Falling deeper

"Hey Song! Come over here!" howled Rorim from the other side of the screen.

<i>Song?</i> "What are you—"

"Get in here and dance wi—"

I didn't let Gillian continue. I checked on imo's sleeping form on her bed and called a nurse to check on her while I was away. Without further thought, I was already on my feet, a jacket on my arm and rushing through the door.

Running down the hallway, there were two things banging in my mind: one, Gillian, who's not much of a heavy drinker, is drunk-dancing in a random club as he said this afternoon, and two, Rorim, also not sober, was with him in the said club. I'm not a fan of clubs and loud, crowded places so whoever I'm dragging my feet there for is going to regret making me.

The moment I entered the club had my eardrums thump from the blasting volume of club music. I didn't message Gillian on the way that I was close nor that I was really going as invited. Between the flashing of lights, the colliding bodies that stunk of strong perfumes, smoke and alcohol and the buzzing babble in every corner, I caught sight of a familiar old wristwatch on a hand, swaying left and right to the air. Why is he <i>alone</i>?

"Gillian."

Spinning around, his sharp eyes widened in surprise. "Norman! And you refused to come with me earlier!" He turned behind and so did I, my eyes roaming in search for her. "Guys, this is Norman. Norman these are—"

"Kalila" announced the women in neon pink turtleneck long sleeves, the aggressive color screaming for attention to the curves embraced by the dress. She held out her arm, her black stained lips curled into a sparkly smirk and I returned, gripped her hand to a proper shake and released.

Next to her, a man in a checkered polo and white cap held out his hand. "I'm Yusuf." His crown of coils bounced as he shook my hand. "Gillian, buddy, why did you only bring this sexy thing now?"

"All that matters is that he's here now." An arm slithered and linked on mine, I almost flinched and slapped it away. "Tell me, <i>Norman</i>, what brings your lovely presence here only now?" Her feline eyes scanned me from head to toe, the look of interest bringing a slimy shiver to my shoulders that I covered by pulling my arm and faking a smile.

In a breath, I blinked as I spotted a striking silhouette of a <i>ghost</i>. White midi dress that were too sentimental for a raucous region. Usual disheveled hair drooped like wilted petals. Droopy eyes that stared blankly at dancing figures, as if watching the same sad show for the nth time. Lips that pouted and sipped on a heavy glass of morose memories. Arms that leaned on the bar counter, supporting the invisible frame that could break any second and fall deep into a rabbit hole.

"I'm here to collect a party." I nodded to them and left, my feet crossing through the heavy waves until I stood before her.

She looked up and squinted. "Hey, <i>you</i>."

"<i>Hey</i>." We just shared that silent gaze between each other. The noises in the background had gradually become a blur and all I could hear was my prying thoughts. "What happened to no party?"

She broke away first and laughed, the sympathetic kind. "I didn't like the pity party." She set aside her drink and stood, holding out her hand. "Dance with me?"

I held her shaking hand and studied it; the subtle creases that defined her biological rarity, the awkward cuts of each nail that traced the worries that visit her daily and a bold signet ring that coiled around her ring finger. She walked ahead and was about to drag me to the dance floor when I stood my ground and gripped her hand carefully. She spun back and tilted her head.

"Dance with me." I blurted as she retraced back to me.

"I asked first."

"Please?"

"Okay. Lead the way then." she smiled, this one different from the ones before. This one brought budding bubbles to my stomach.

I turned around and dragged her out of the club. She didn't speak nor complained, which was unusual but I tried to ignore it. Whatever she may be brooding right now, I only wish to blow them away.

It was almost twelve when I left the hospital. My feet took us to somewhere I didn't even know, to an empty road. Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I scrolled through my playlist and clicked on the song I recently most listened to. I stopped from my tracks and so did she, her head lightly bumping behind me. As much as I wanted to think that it was cute, why do I feel like I was taking advantage of her drunk state?

"I know that song." She murmured and started swaying.

I smiled and held her hand, guiding it to my shoulder blades, making sure her arms don't strain from raising them high. My hands didn't know if it could hold her waist so it gripped around her wrist, feeling my heartbeat beneath my forearm. She looked at my hands and pouted, thinking.

The chorus was about to play when I led the steps, just the two of us swaying.

"Why are your hands there?" She eyed them as she swayed, her head following the rhythm.

"Where should it be?"

This time, it was her turn to guide my hand, placing them on the handles of her waist. "Here." And she returned her hand to my chest.

"Are you s—"

"Don't ruin it, you." she shook her head from side to side, I almost thought she was going to stumble.

"That's twice already."

"Twice what?"

"You called me 'you'."

"Should I not?"

"Do you hate me that much to forget my name?"

She chuckled. "You haven't told me yet."

I released a hand from her waist and brushed the annoying lock of hair that blocked her eye off her face. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head like earlier again, grinning as she shrugged her shoulders. What's that supposed to mean? Has she drunk more than I thought she has? Does she even know that it's me infront of her? Or did she assume I was a stranger? Or someone she knew? Or does she hate me enough to forget about me and act like I'm a stranger? Why do I feel insulted? Because I came all the way here just to be forgotten? To be mistaken as someone else? Is she thinking of <i>him</i>?

"Who do you think I am?"

"The bar guy." So that's how they met.

"Is he the one who hurt you?"

She bobbed her head forward, almost swaying. "Who?"

Sighing, I lowered my guard. Maybe I was just being weird. Bad weird. Why am I being like this? It's her birthday. No, it's past even. But that's not the point. She's drunk and we're in the middle of the street dancing because the sober one - me - decided to do it here. Why am I even here? Why do I feel like I'm the drunk one? Why am I not myself? Why does it matter? Is this what liking someone is supposed to be? Has it always felt like this?

"Who are you talking about? And why are you on the floor?" I stare at the sky while I see her fold her arms from the corner of my eye.

I tried imitating her head shake a while ago, my hair tickling my hand that kept it from touching the dirty ground. "Lay down with me."

"No, it's dirty."

"Come, it feels nice. I promise."

I counted the stars in the sky like seconds until I fought the victorious smile under my lips.

"Consider yourself lucky." she grumbled groggily under her breath as she was about to lay down.

Like you'd regret it. I sat up for a bit and flatted down my jacket, my eyes on her bare shoulders and exposed back. For a moment, I understood the depth of the 'it's dirty' and felt apologetic.

Resting on my jacket unbothered, she yawned. I bet the alcohol was already weighing her eyes and energy down now. "What are you thinking?" She does this at the most silent times. And I just realized that I like that about her.

I shifted from my position and faced her, imagining her body fading to the air. "I'm thinking about what I would've been doing right now if you're not here, right now. If I didn't know you at all because you're with <i>them</i>. To the skies."

She closed her eyes and breathed, the mounds of her chest raising as she inhaled the same picture. "How I wish that were true."

And how glad I was that there were no candles to blow. I know exactly how it would've been if this being before me, <i>world's wonder</i>, didn't exist at all. The frames that made up the scenes of that didn't have her sliced through my lungs like a punishment. Inexplicably empty. How that could exist in this black hole of a heart, I don't know.

"Was that really your wish?"

I waited for her to answer that I almost thought she fell asleep. I sat up and leaned in, checking. I took a moment to absorb the reality of her. Her drunk, sleeping state that wore the plainest white dress enthralled me every second my heart beat, until it swelled with a different image. Little by little, Rorim was no longer Rorim, but a stranger. My mind had conjured a picture of another woman I never knew, and yet gave me the same familiarity as Rorim. It made me dizzy. I sat there internally fazed, looking at her like a whole different person until I was struck by shards of memories.

Touches that scalded my skin.

Warmth that shrouded my chest.

Passion that escaped my lips as it touched another.

Breaths colliding. Bodies coiling. Buds craving.

I fell back as the wild heat overcome me. All over me. I closed my eyes and breathed, trying not to choke on this overwhelming ache. What in the world was that? What's happening to me? Why do I feel like this? I don't like this.

"<i>Hey</i>."

I opened my eyes and blinked as I saw her coming back to her form, eyes drawn into me. I'm no longer hallucinating, dreaming. Yet I feel worse, suffocated in this immense desire. With all my strength, I pulled my hand to my mouth, restraining the horrid hunger. I ache all the more and I can only shut my eyes and bow my head, repulse for myself.

"What's going on?" She sat up, about to inch closer.

<i>Don't come any closer.. Please</i>

"Are you okay?"

<i>No. Please don't. I beg you...</i>

"Hey…"

I shut my eyes harder and held my breath. The second I felt the brush of her skin, I felt the pain escape from my lips, my bite almost tearing it. Her hand moved my hand away from my mouth and raised my head, guided by her finger. Her eyes studied mine, left to right and checked my forehead.

"You're warm." She smiled and gently rubbed her palms on both my ears. "I like warm."

<i>Like.</i>

<i>

Like.</i>

<i>

Like.</i>

<i>She said like.</i>

"Hug." Before I could move, the skin of her neck kissed mine and I swallowed a torturous whimper. Her arms caressed my hair, as if petting and coaxing a startled creature. "I missed you, Robin."

<i>Robin</i>? Her twin? Has she been thinking I was him this whole time?

"What do you miss about me?"

I felt the heavy weight on her breath as she inhaled. "<i>Everything</i>." Her whisper was a tear on a love note, a falling last petal from a wilted flower, a crack of thunder on a sunny day. It was enough for me to understand her pain. As cruel as it sounds, that pain calmed me down.

"Me too." Should I hug her? Can I? What if she realizes that it's me? Will it comfort her if I embrace her? Will that be okay? It is, right? It's not taking advantage? What if it is? Have I not taken advantage of her enough? But didn't she deceive me first? Returning the hug doesn't mean anything bad. This much is alright. <i>Right?</i>

Hands shaking, I held her, my forearm touching her cool back. When she didn't react, I felt my neck lean closer, my nose almost meeting her shoulder. With all my will power, I fought the urge not to smell her. Yet I failed successfully, as her scent invaded my lungs. So I surrendered, inhaling all of her, the aroma of her skin, her hair, her pheromones, in the most subtle state possible. But I only find myself intoxicated.

I didn't know how long we stayed like that. I didn't know that she had rested asleep on my shoulder. I didn't know how much of her I had absorbed, how despite feeling like an indecent criminal, smelling her, touching her never felt enough. I didn't know how to get her home nor where that home was, I didn't want to part yet. I didn't know a tragic reminder for her could be a gift to me. I didn't know how deep I have already fallen, how liking someone can make you insane, obsessively insane. I didn't know how cruel and selfish I could be, I was capable of being. I didn't know.

But it felt right.