Tender mercies

I eat some dinner, alone. That’s unusual for life in Van Buren. Or even since I left the Station. I miss Pem. We always ate together, and I see now I’ve been taking that for granted.

I go down to the pool again. I don’t really want to see Stephane, but neither can I bear to be away from them any longer. Yet they are not here, so now I have to find them.

“Hey, looking for me?” they say. We’re in the west hallway.

“Uh … yeah. Yes,” I say. “I am.”

Each movement of their body hurts me, impels me to run to them, grab them, embrace them. Or to run away. I’m expecting my ring finger to twitch or itch, but it isn’t, so I let it slip away again.

Stephane stops and twirls slowly in punctuated turns on tiptoes. “Do you like my new outfit?”

I want to take it off them. “Yes,” I say. “A lot, actually.”

They smile at me, look at me with those endless eyes. “Thanks!”

“Where, uh. Where did you get it?” I ask.

“Oh! I found it. In a chest right over there.” They point to where they mean.

“So you were, um. Walking around. Wet. With no clothes. Until just now.”

They grin. “Uh huh.”

My mind races through scenarios that could have happened. That would have happened, had I only been a moment faster.

Stephane advances, and I can smell them about a foot before they arrive next to me. Salty, sweet, some hint of a flower, some spice.

“We still can,” they say softly to me.

“Still can what?” I’m not playing dumb. I really don’t know.

Their lips are very close to mine. It’s been so long. So long since …

“They fit you very well,” I say, nervously. “You look great.”

“Thank you,” they say sweetly. Their breath is unusual. Not bad, but fragrant. Almost like almonds, but not quite.

“It’s like they were made for you. They fit so well,” I say.

“Yeah,” they say. “They feel really good, on my skin.”

They put a thin hand on my cheek. I want to respond, but instead I look at their fingernails, see they are pearlescent. “Did you … did you find some nail polish?”

Stephane stops and furrows their brow. “What’s that?”

“It’s like a paint or lacquer you apply to the fingernails,” I say.

They laugh a little. “Why would anyone do that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Just some people like to.”

They look at me, directly in the eyes. “Would you like me to?” Stephane asks.

My breathing is getting tight. I might panic. “Like you to what?”

“Paint them,” they say.

“What? No! No. Yours are very lovely just as they are. I’ve just … never seen anyone with nails like yours. That’s all,” I say.

“I imagine there’s a lot about me you’ve never seen before, gentle William.”

My heart rate spikes, and I am sweating. I feel like I need to pee. “I, uh …”

“Can I help?” they ask.

“Help with what?”

“Your fear,” they say softly.

“I mean, yeah, sure. But I don’t see how …”

They kiss me.

Next time, on Gaucho: “The best part of all …”

Read the first cycle (The Station) in installments on the Adventures in Secrecy website: 1 > 2 > 3 > 4 > 5 > 6 > 7 > 8 > 9 > 10 > 11 > 12 > 13 > 14 > 15 > 16 > 17 > 18 > 19; or, in a continuous scroll on Tablo: https://tablo.com/t-van-santana/gaucho/.

Navigation for second cycle (Van Buren) installments on the Adventures in Secrecy website: 1 < 2 < 3 < 4 < 5 < 6

Gaucho #25