I Will Hold You When No One's Around

I will hold you when no one’s around.
17- Love me tender

I arrived home and as soon as I opened the door, I saw her. She was watching Shakespeare in Love on the TV. We loved that movie. Well, we actually hated it but loved it at the same time. I loved it because of their vocabulary and because of Joseph Fiennes but I hated the blonde girl who had the main character as Viola… I think she’s called Gwyneth Parr or something like that… I don’t know and I couldn’t care less.

Alice loved it because of the love story and because clothes were cute. Unlike me, she hated their accent and the way they talked.

We were so different… but opposites attract, don’t they?

“Hi…” –I needed to tell her.

“Hey baby! How are you?” –She stood up and gave me a long hug, oh, I loved her hugs. I better not ruin the moment by telling relatively unnecessary things.

“I’m fine…” –Not really, but oh well.

“Is there anything wrong?” –She sounded worried.

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired. How are you?” –I hope I sounded convincing enough out loud, in my head it didn’t.

“Good… I was just thinking of you.” –Of course you fucking were.

“Oh, were you.”

“Was that a question?” –She asked.

“I don’t know.” –Without any more words, I went upstairs, and changed my clothes, making sure there was no hint of cuts on my arms, thank God for bracelets and long sleeves; you could say they have saved me multiple times. I always wear jackets and sweaters.

And what do I say when people ask me about it? “Oh, it’s not that hot”, “I’m cold, actually”, “It may start raining”, “I’m used to warmness”, “I can’t take out my jacket because it compliments my shoes and top” and some more of that same bullshit. Funny thing they always believe it.

I put on my shorts and a pair of purple Crocs my mom had sent me some weeks ago. Her gifts were always useful. At the moment, I sort of looked like Barney; wearing a green sweater, and purple
bottoms, jacket and shoes.

When I came back, I found Alice sneaking between my huge CD collections that occupied half of the whole living room, making me proud.

“What are you doing?” –I asked, curious.

“I’m just looking for something…” –What?

“You really care about this place, don’t you?” –She asked.

“Yeah, I do. It’s like a sanctuary for me and my feelings. But what are you looking for? I can help you find it quickly.” –I insisted, wanting to know what she was up to.

“I just found it, so forget it.” –She said taking one of the many Elvis Presley’s albums I had from the vinyl section.

“He was your favorite musician…” –She spilled, looking at my stupid face and taking the disk out of its case.

“He still is.” –I admitted, as she turned on the stereo.

“Choose one song.” –She told me.

“Surprise me.”

Then the cords started sounding… Being able to listen to that beautiful melody again gave me thrills.

“Love me tender, love me sweet,
never let me go.
You have made my life complete,
and I love you so.”

“It’s been so long… Oh, I still love him as much.” –I snorted, in a big sigh, full of emotions and old feelings and memories.

“I bet you do.” –She approached me, and held me by my waist and my hand. “Dance with me?”

“You bet.” –Then I put my free hand on her shoulder and we started dancing.

That was a perfect moment for sure; my favorite singer, my favorite song, my favorite place, my favorite person. It could be the end of the world and I wouldn't care. This is what Presley does to me.

He is like a drug and I get completely high when I listen to him.

Every single album you can mention is probably owned by me already.

“Let’s cuddle.” –She half requested, half demanded. How could I deny?

“Marvelous.” –I answered.

We could have spent hours there, not noticing, and with no intention of letting go. She was so warm and so cold… I loved just the simple thought of touching her. It was a complete gamma of various feelings and sensations I would be glad to keep exploring forever.

“I’m hungry.” –She sweetly said, taking me out of my thoughts. It sounded fucking cute.

“Me too… Let’s cook something!” –I suggested.

“…Or we could just order a pizza.” –Her eyes were closed in bother.

“…Or we could cook something.”

“Why?” –She asked.

“Because I have always thought that cooking dinner with you could be fun. I mean, not like sandwiches or pasta, I’m talking about a real dinner…”

“I love you, baby, wouldn't it be cute just taking the phone and staying like this for the next half an
hour until the pizza arrives and then play with food together?” –She put a tiny little voice.

“Well… If you really prefer pizza, we can always order one…”

“No, it’s okay. What do you have in mind?” –She said after a moment.

“I don’t know, chicken and salad?”

“Chicken and salad sounds good to me!”

“Perfect. I’ll defreeze the poultry.”

I was preparing stuff for dinner and Alice cleared the table and cleaned the dining room.

I got so abstracted by her… I couldn't concentrate on what I was doing, and I almost rip off my finger two times while slicing the tomatoes for salad. But she’s just too beautiful not to look at her.

I mean, if you could only see the way she moves when she walks… It seems she’s dancing. Her body is so perfect it hurts. And I’m not only talking about how fit the clothes she’s wearing tonight make her good goodies show up goodly, no… I mean all her. I mean her stylish and careful hands, I mean her hipbones and her collarbones sticking out, I mean how her snazzy, curly light hair falls perfectly on her shoulders and the way her nifty back moves with such elegance and sensuality even when she doesn’t mean it to…

God.

“You are going to lose your hand if you keep watching me instead of focusing on the knife you’re holding.” –She caught me off guard, laughing.

“I wouldn’t mind…” –I replied. “It wouldn’t be much of a price for what I’m getting.” –I turned to her.

“Oh, it would.” –She corrected me. “Do you know why?”

“Not really. Why?” –I felt stupidly distracted, but it didn’t matter.

“You are my girlfriend.” –She made a special accent on the last word. I didn’t catch up.

“And I’m a girl.” –She spilled with the same tone as before.

“So… we’re girlfriend and girlfriend.” –I said. She nodded, glad.

After a moment of thinking, I spoke. “I still don’t get it.”

“Okay, we’re girls. And we are in a relationship; a love relationship. Tell me something that’s in the love relationship packet we got some time ago.”

“Cuddles?” –I smiled.

“Sweet? Pleasuring?” –She suggested.

“You?” –I sweetly said.

“Sweeter.” –She winked.

I hesitated. “You… Covered in whipped cream?” –I grinned.

“Trying to get me into the mood?” –She asked, with a provoking gaze.

“Maybe I am. But I’m not sure if it would work…”

“I have to admit, it does sound sweet and pleasuring, but no.” –What a turn-off.

“You own me one!” –I cried. “Give me another clue!”

“I owe you for sure. Uh… Bed?” –She uncertainly shook her head.

“Okay… I don’t understand what you mean anyways.” –I gave up, and turned around, going back to
the tomatoes. She left out a sigh, and smirked.

“Well, you didn’t have a penis last time I checked.” –That was the last drop.

I exploded on laughter in a matter of seconds, I cut my middle finger in the moment I heard the words and then fell down like a total moron. She did stuff as I shrilled, cried, clapped and rolled on the floor like a retarded seal at the same time. Now everything made sense.

“And there goes my sex life.” –She said, leaving the room taking a couple of clean dishes and two glasses full of ice with her. After a while, she came back, and helped me to get up.

"Those are the kind of things that make me afraid of you." –She said, giggling.

"Those are the kind of things that make me afraid of myself." –I chuckled.

“How is my baby?” –She asked, taking my wounded hand.

“I’m fine, darling.” –I answered.

“I was talking to your finger! Hush!”

“Okay, sorry.” –I babbled. It did actually hurt a lot. (I mean, yes, I can cut a 5 millimeter deep 6
centimeter long line on my arm but it didn’t hurt as much as a little wound in a finger, it’s a pain in
the ass).

“Come here, it’s little but we need to cleanse that.” –She spilled. It was nice of her, but I couldn’t let her see what I had done to myself today.

“No, it’s okay. It doesn’t hurt.” –I lied.

“It doesn’t matter, it can get infected.” –I could hear my mother when she talked like that.

“I said it’s totally okay, Al.”

“I don’t want blood on my food.” –Sure thing... I didn’t have time to reply, though. “Not yet.”

“For God’s sake! Alice, stop joking already, otherwise I will totally be dead by the time of dinner.” –I
giggled.

“No please.” –She said, innocently.

“Look, I’ll go clean it, you finish with the salad and then I’ll help you out on what I can.” –I snorted, running upstairs. From the distance I heard an annoyed “okay”.

I locked myself inside the bathroom, rolled up my sleeves and let the cold water run down my wrists.
It felt good, it stopped my finger’s bleeding and the rashes of my cuts felt less itchy.

I put on a band-aid, fixed my jacket and went back to the kitchen. I couldn’t stop thinking about that whipped cream thing, though. I was being serious about that one.

“You’re back!” –She spilled.

“I am aren’t I?”

“Yes. The chicken is unfrozen already, would you please cut it? I really suck at doing that…” –She said. “You know, only if your finger is good with it.”

“Sure! Uh… should I take the skin off?” –I asked, while taking the chopping knife out of its usual place.

“Yeah, better remove it. I want you to be heartless.” –This girl was cruel… But somehow, cruelty deliberately conceals being creative.

“Okay.” –And with very nimble moves I stabbed the stomach.

“Oh my God!” –She said. “It- hurts.” –She got on her knees, with the most painful expression I had ever seen on her face.

I’m just kidding. It’s not what you think.

“Please, Ally, it’s just chicken! And you are going to eat it!” –I laughed.

“Poor animal, so painful it’s dead… It’s a sad thing.”

“More like poor me…” –We giggled.

“Sad thing you’re still alive...”