Fair play
I privately get a thrill from whatever game I am playing with her.
The gleaming signs of recognition flash in our eyes yet the refusal of acknowledgment beckons at work.
The subtle touches imprinted on each other sneakily a telltale of more to come, of satisfying the cravings I have to kiss her and whatever she feels or takes from me.
What a dangerous game we play.
Last night for example, see us bordering on the unfoldment of our secret exploits.
We met up in town before Outlet O's reunion dinner. Us at cafe Creme Bistro, us on bus 123, us walking towards Tiong Bahru Plaza. Then it was back to the I as myself and she as herself.
Making out in the toilet at Lot, Stock and Barrel, a bar at Seah Street; to me being slightly inebriated after rounds of Heineken and still managing to play Photohunt successfully with a few of my colleagues setting 2 top scores and at the same time holding on to her yet knowingly touching her. Geez, I think our actions of familiarity couldn't be more obvious to our colleagues. And that last bit in spite of her girlfriend's arrival and me wishing her Happy CNY.
If the trio of our friends had been a minute faster, they would have been on the brink of having first sight of our clandestine activity snogging at the bus stop when she walked me out to take a cab back to school, or had I been a step faster, another colleague of ours riding his bike would have incidentally spotted us behaving nothing like our usual selves.
I don't want to ever see the day where I am telling myself this, "You are busted, babe."
I can't tell her I miss her so. This only a game, not a relationship.
The gleaming signs of recognition flash in our eyes yet the refusal of acknowledgment beckons at work.
The subtle touches imprinted on each other sneakily a telltale of more to come, of satisfying the cravings I have to kiss her and whatever she feels or takes from me.
What a dangerous game we play.
Last night for example, see us bordering on the unfoldment of our secret exploits.
We met up in town before Outlet O's reunion dinner. Us at cafe Creme Bistro, us on bus 123, us walking towards Tiong Bahru Plaza. Then it was back to the I as myself and she as herself.
Making out in the toilet at Lot, Stock and Barrel, a bar at Seah Street; to me being slightly inebriated after rounds of Heineken and still managing to play Photohunt successfully with a few of my colleagues setting 2 top scores and at the same time holding on to her yet knowingly touching her. Geez, I think our actions of familiarity couldn't be more obvious to our colleagues. And that last bit in spite of her girlfriend's arrival and me wishing her Happy CNY.
If the trio of our friends had been a minute faster, they would have been on the brink of having first sight of our clandestine activity snogging at the bus stop when she walked me out to take a cab back to school, or had I been a step faster, another colleague of ours riding his bike would have incidentally spotted us behaving nothing like our usual selves.
I don't want to ever see the day where I am telling myself this, "You are busted, babe."
I can't tell her I miss her so. This only a game, not a relationship.
posted by Sheena at 2:30 PM
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