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M – Part Eleven

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Once sitting down in the wagon (which is already surprising around noon – I must look terrible to be granted a seat) I get my thoughts together. The sudden grudge that had taken me over wears off. I realize I had no valuable reason to complain. In fact, I had time to walk calmly to the end of the station, where the first wagons stop. Yeah, I don’t understand why a majority of people insist on piling up in the middle wagons… Some days you would bet a team from the Guinness Records is in town to see how many dummies can fit in a coach, before someone dies of asphyxiation.
In my little corner, I revisit the stations one after the other, only backwards… I don’t hear the crowd’s noise, too busy remixing the last couple of hours. Having fun cutting, changing and adding scenes to please my imagination. It is about to be a nice short film to mentally present to myself in lonely hours… But I don’t exaggerate. I keep the kinky stuff for tonight, at home, not to provide potential telepaths with anything too personal. One is never too careful.

I go over my favorite moments with Doctor Madsen… His arrival, and the shock I had when he entered the room, his franc laughter, his warm and reassuring voice, his subtle yet exotic accent, his visibly recent crow’s feet, his athletic body, yet not too athletic, just solid, straight and inviting…

Each time we reach a new station, I play the same scenario to myself. The wagon’s doors open, and Gabriel enters the coach. He holds on to the aluminum poll next to my seat and our eyes meet again…

At each new station, I stage those four or five steps towards my seat in the corner of the coach. Each time, he stares straight into my soul from the moment he passes the door, until he gets to my side.

The doors close down, and he lays his free hand on the backrest of my seat to keep his balance, brushing against my shoulder on its way. The subway gets moving again, and I can’t believe he is there, all smiles, illuminating the whole car around him, and the rest of the passengers seem even more ordinary now. I can’t judge, since I can’t take my eyes off Gabriel, but I can imagine that most women noticed his entry.
My little elevator vainglory lights up again deep in my chest and I stand up to face him. Since his hand is still resting on my seat, and the space is restraint by the many passengers around us, his arm is almost circling my waist now. A few inches from his chest, I have a sudden hot flash.

The subway takes a turn, not tight enough to kick me off balance, but since I have a history of almost falling down today, I easily feign a high heels incident, and take a grip on his bicep as innocently as I can. After the turn, I loosen my clench, but I leave my hand on Gabriel’s arm expecting the slightest backing reaction… Nothing. I can feel the curves of his muscled arm through the vest’s fabric, and I am silently impressed. I feel his strength under my fingers, witch feels strangely troubling after all those years of comfortable celibacy…

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice the young student who rushes in, plugged on her Ipod (or Iphone, or is it an Ipad… Idon’tcare!) aiming for the spot I just left open to any other passenger. Sliding with the finesse of a morbidly obese, she swings her bag (bigger than mine… it is worth mentioning!) which hits me in the back, tackling me against Gabriel’s chest. I apologize, apologies refused since I am not responsible for what just happened. He leans towards the young lady, gives her a look that seem to be impressive (I couldn’t say for sure, seeing only the back of Gabriel’s head) since her reaction is instantaneous. The wannabe hippy first gives back a “what-the-heck?” look, before apologizing less than convincingly, but it is better than nothing…

– Are you ok?

I acquiesce, and without turning her way, I mentally send my thanks to the girl (who knows, among all the passengers, she could be my eventual telepath…) for the forced but far from disagreeable contact. Even better, had it not been of this incident, I may not have experienced this unexpected protecting side of my handsome doctor… I was imagining him as a knight in shining armor, but it is a lot more exciting to know I was right about it!

Face to face again, we obviously are both looking for something convenient to say, but I don’t really want to talk. I hold Gabriel’s gaze, and the rest of the wagon has already disappeared. I can see him peeking at my lips, and our breaths strangely synchronize. I feel a hint of trouble, and I have the clear impression that the noise of the air hissing from our lips is deafening in the coach. No, he would dare… I would not stop him, but going from straight bachelorette to French kissing in a subway wagon with an almost-stranger, that’s quite something! He leans over, his nose barely milimeters from brushing against mine, and he pauses, probably to judge if I will back off. Visibly reassured, I feel his arm pulling me discreetly but clearly by the waist. His warm breath on my cheek, I realize I would never be able to sleep with Gabriel…
I would most certainly suffer from instantaneous combustion if I ever got in bed with him . His slightly open mouth comes closer to mine, and I offer myself, although I have the scary feeling I might pass out any second now. Unlike the Hollywood clichés, I don’t close my eyes. Our lips are almost touching now, that’s it, I’m about to get a taste of heaven…

– Assomption station!

The voice off pulls me from my daydream. Grrr!

3 thoughts on “M – Part Eleven

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