He glimpsed her figure from the canape side of the table. He had been stopped by the new Associate professor to discuss the lecture notes for History on Medieval Literature.
But he was looking at the red dress she was wearing. They bought it together a couple of years back in Panama, it had a deep neckline encrusted with irregular pearls. It slid slightly across her small breasts as she told a story to a gathering around her, who burst into laughter at the end of it.
She caught his sight – he stood next to the professor with his fists descending along his suite, recalling her mouth screaming, her watery eyes from earlier that afternoon.
She smiled at him. And it took a couple of seconds to him to smile back.
The little privé was warm, incredibly warm, and that wine so, so good, she placed her fork on the side of the gold-adorned porcelain plate to cover a deep yawn – no need to worry about it either, he was still deeply focused in observing the right corner of the ceiling.
He gently opened his eyes, to see hers staring at him.
“Sorry” she startled, withdrawing from their embrace.
Place down the first packing case. Connect the paper lamp to the plug. Appose the chair next to the wooden table. While she was breathing the very first smells of that new apartment in the downtown, she was trying to stop thinking at her parents’ place – unwittingly shutting his eyes for a second – and focusing on that present, opening wide in front of them together with the tiled double door.
Caught by a sudden silence, the couple promised each other eternal love.