Muse & Escort

Fireworks and Apollo (Marla's POV)

                  

I never thought I will ever like this...heck, it never even occurred to me that I will "enjoy" this. If I were my old bitter, cold, too cautious self, I would be trying my best to keep my emotions at bay and make sure I don't allow myself to even believe that much in its temerity. But now, as I watch colorful flames burst into the night sky like multiple supernovas, I can't help but notice how despite the fact that I have been staring up for the past minutes, my neck still hasn't shown signs that it's about to fall off due to strain.

About 45 minutes ago while I was fan-drying my hair after shower which I took so against my will, I was ready to be a murderer. I'm thinking I would sit in the corner of the big battered couch in my tiny living room, looking tired and desolate and furtively holding on to a boomerang (yes! A boomerang, I'm in one of those xena-warrior-princess mode, haaayy-yaaahhhh!) On one hand and a gloved samurai in another. How I will be able to do that, I don't know. At that moment, those two were my weapons of choice. I will wait for my victim to get in and fetch me from the couch. But before he can even take a step towards me from the door I would quickly aim my boomie and send it swishing into the air. Then I will pull out my freshly sharpened samurai, do cartwheels then expertly lash through the air, hitting his neck and cutting his precious head in the process, and watch as it rolls in the marble floor.

That was while I was drying my hair in front of the fan set to propeller speed number 3. Shaking, no, convulsing like I'm being possessed by a tetanus stricken dog in steroids. Minutes before that I stood vibrating under the shower as the pulsating cold water fell on my body which up to that moment still refused to even let a drop of water touch it. I smelled of smoke and pollution, sesame oil and hoisin sauce but I don't care. The biting cold was too much and I just didn't want to go through near-convulsive episodes again, but this one text message, which at that moment I haven't even replied to yet, just sent me walking towards the bathroom. I haven't even said yes and yet I set out to getting ready, even if it was supposedly against my will. How wacko was that? I am indeed, bonkers.

So I wanted to kill him, and I had the plan mapped out, but soon as I saw him enter the door, looking fresh in a light green shirt, with that signature "i-know-something-but-I'm-not-telling-you-till-you-promise-to-give-me-what-i-want" smile (which is annoying by the way. At first), my killer instinct just melted away and I just sat there, looking at him. And then he stopped. And of all the stupid things he could mutter, he just had to ask, obviously in an attempt to be cute and failing at it pathetically: Am I cold? Duh? Is the Pope Catholic?

With that I stood up and started jumping then grabbed his wrist and pulled him along, running towards the door. He was laughing as he asked why the hell I'm in a hurry when UP is just a stone's throw away. "It's so I would feel warm because I've been shaking here for the past several minutes you fag!" I said as I freed his hand and headed towards the passenger door, tugging at the handle. "You know there is a quick remedy for that." He said as we both got inside.   With this silly grin. Man, he is on a roll tonight. He is an overall nice guy but when he starts hitting me with these come-ons, I can't look at him without seeing red demon ears sprout from his forehead. Or maybe green ogre ears? Whatever, I have known him to be playful but when he starts flirting he just never fail to disgust me. At the same time though, part of me says it's actually kind of adorable. And funny. Sheesh.

I just threw him a lingering cold stare, which I have known to be quite effective when I want him to just shut up and do whatever he's supposed to do. I this case, I am trying to tell him to just drive. Usually, he would try and even challenge me to a staring match. And he is always the one to give up. I have to thank my dark, cold, backsliding Christian years for that uncanny ability. Tonight, as I expected, he couldn't beat me. He tried, but he is obviously made of softer dough. Hehe 😉 I kept my eyes at him as I watch him fumble with something in the car stereo controls. I'm almost unmoving. Then he suddenly turned to me again and before I knew it he was leaning way too close. Closer. I know exactly what he was up to and having been parked just outside the house with the light from the street post glaring down at us like the sun at noon, I just wouldn't allow him to do what I think he wants to do. So I quickly turned and focused my eyes on the blue checkered tissue box on the dashboard. And felt his lips touch the side of my face, right beside my left ear. I held back a gasp. Geez, he missed the spot yet...