13. The Nereid

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For love, as I know it now, is something without shame and without reserve, the possession of two people who have no barrier between them, and no pride; whatever happens to you will happen to me too, all feeling, all movement, all sensation of body and of mind.

Without you I am lost, a straw blown by the wind.

You kissed me long and hard, pressing me against the rough, coarse stone of the wall, and I felt the hot blood course through my back, and drum, and rush against the cold of the wall, radiating to the tips of my fingers, down to my trembling toes. The intensity of my passion caught at me and made me cling to you, and kiss you back, and the excitement rose in me and surged to fever-pitch. It was nothing like the excitement of ordinary looking forward to events, of birthday presents, of secret treats; this was an excitement so strong, so restless, the pull of a force so powerful, it felled me, and made my heart pound, and my knees weak. 

And your kisses dispelled all my other selves, the selves that had followed me in the early part of tonight, the little shadows that had ghosted me through your adjusting of my scarf, the taxi ride, the meal...

They were all gone, my other selves, the resentful me, the bitter me, and the jealous me. They had vanished, like insignificant thoughts and inconsequential dreams, poor have-beens that had lived in me earlier tonight, now thrown away into the dust, discarded, forgotten, as if they had never existed, had never been.

It seemed a very long time before we stopped kissing.

We drew apart, finally, and I leaned against the wall, trembling, flushed. You were breathing hard. The moonlight fell softly on you as you looked at me, your face lit up, the planes and angles, lights and shadows thrown into sharp relief. Your eyes looked very dark, and the brows made a bar of black across them. I could see the deeply incised lines down your cheeks, and the thin line of your mouth, rigid, and taut with excitement, with tension.

You shifted, and straightened, and the moonlight fell between us, slantingly, from behind my left shoulder.

"Why do you always make me worry about you?" Your voice is tight, strangled, you spoke as if with great effort. And all the time, as you spoke, you kept your eyes on me, scorching me, burning me with their intensity, their heat.

"I am a grown girl," I said loftily. "I am an adult. You don't need to worry about me. I can stand on my own two feet."

Involuntarily we both glanced down at my feet; they looked fragile and babyish in the silver sandals, the toes curling amid the fragile high heels.

"God," you said, sounding annoyed, "why can't you wear shoes? You could trip, and fall in those heels, you could cut your feet on this slate." 

"Oh," I said vaguely, "but they're so pretty, I just bought them, specially for this trip, specially for you..." I looked at you, and you muttered an oath, and said, "Don't look at me like that, it makes me want to kiss you again... ," and I said, "Oh, okay then," and I looked away, and then sneaked a look at you under my eyelashes, almost immediately, and you were looking at me, and scowling at me.

Your eyes swept over me, and you raised a trembling hand, and touched the wisps of my hair fluttering in the sudden gust of wind. Your fingers were very white in the moonlight, contrasting with the dark of your eyes, and your gaze raked every inch of me, from the tip of my head, all the way down to my silvery heels. Finally your eyes met mine and held, and I became aware of my flushed face, my bruised lips, my quivering body.

"Who are you?" your voice came to me, hushed and still, a whisper upon the wind.

"A girl," I whispered. "Just a foolish girl, an ordinary girl...a girl who loves you, who has loved none other, but you..."

"No," you said hoarsely. "You are a nereid, a sea nymph arisen from the sea to torment me..." You reached out, and cupped my face between your hands. "Only a sea witch could have such strange eyes." He kissed my eyelids. "Silvery eyes, the colour of the sea...they drive me mad..." Your voice was low, shaken, your eyes wild, dangerous. 

"Kiss me, Mina..."

I stepped into your arms, and you pulled me to you fiercely. 

How deep and absolute was my need for you, I thought to myself, how I have missed you, how much I love you. You are here and you are mine; my anchor, my centre, my searing flame, my peace. 

You released me after a long, long time, and I stood for a moment in the circle of your arms. You smiled down at me, calmer, more composed, but I could still see the tell-tale pulse beating frantically beneath your right cheek, and the blaze was still there at the back of your eyes, and I could see the wild thudding of your heart where your shirt clung to your body beneath your open coat. You were breathing like a runner. 

You said laughingly, "We've an audience, darling. Do you mind?"

I followed your eyes, and saw a cat staring at us unblinkingly from the shadows, and even as I looked, it gave a sort of yawn, as if it was bored, and we laughed, and then it stalked away like a king, and was gone, just like that.

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