Who the Fuck is Alex Turner?

The Part With Key Hill

A bead of salty sweat rolled from my temple to my jaw, hanging precariously on the edge.  Our breathing was rough, as we let out long huffs and tried to recover our breath. Pulling my pants back on, I leaned on the wall, the strength from my body having dissipated in the moments that had just unfolded. Alex looked more alive than ever, with an engrossed glint in his eyes. The rise and fall of his chest slowed, and we became quieter, not speaking a word. Pulling on the rest of our clothes, I let out a small giggle, shaking me head.

“What?” He said, running a hand through his hair and sweeping it to the side.

“This was very naughty of us. Very,” I sighed.

“I wouldn’t ‘ave it any other way,” he winked.  

My shirt had a button missing, the one that had been ripped off in the haste of the moment. It was the top one, level with my collarbones. So I had to leave my shirt open at the top; I didn’t have any other options.  There would inevitably be some repercussions, probably manifested in the form of the spawn of Satan Briony’s yelling, but it was either that or no shirt at all.

“Alex?” I chirped.

“Yeah?”

“Do you like the countryside?”

“I don’t mind it. Why?”

“Do you want to go to a winery with me tomorrow? I know it sounds a bit fancy and that, but I thought it was a nice idea,” I said, hopefully. “We could drive up for the day. Maybe go strawberry picking.”

“That sounds lovely Nic. I’d love to,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been strawberry picking.”

“It’s very pretty out there. The scenery is nice. It’s different to the city. I thought that’s something you might like.”

“Indeed, I would.” He said, before adding, “Not going to have a repeat of that margarita session though, are we?”

I averted my eyes away from his glance with embarrassment. I’d poured myself a troubling amount of tequila and consumed it in an equally troubling amount of time. I’d never provided him with an explanation as to why I’d done it though. At the time I’d wanted to hide my fear, the fear that he’d leave me without warning, desert me like I’d been a disposable object.  I still tingled with worry about it now, but it’d ebbed away to the back of my mind somewhat since.

“…No,” I said, defensively.

“Alright then,” he laughed. I wasn’t sure how he interpreted my response.

When I returned to work Alex stopped to go outside for a cigarette, leaving me secretly wishing I was with him inhaling from one of his cancer sticks. The day carried on relatively smoothly. Occasionally I would squirm in surprise at the cold touch of Alex’s lips on my neck in the blackness of the cinema. He crept up behind me, his hair softly tickling me and causing me to utter a squeal. Towards the end of the day we sat on the steps out of sight, leaning against each other. Playing with the curling locks of his hair, I pulled strands and watched them spring back into little twirls that hung around his neck. When he caught me fiddling with his hair he snapped my fingers together in his hands like a Venus flytrap, and it turned into a game. We slapped at each other’s hands, laughing quietly like children. Alex’s low pitched, throaty giggle stirred a bubbling warmth within me. The way his chocolate, doe eyes glowed in bliss made me forget the black bruise on his face and the way he smoked cigarette after cigarette like they were harmless, even his leather jacket clad swagger. He suddenly seemed like a teenager again.

Half expecting Alex to return to his hotel room, having been drained of patience and finding himself fed up with me, I was surprised when he offered to take me out for dinner. Going straight from the cinemas (still in my work uniform) to the little Italian restaurant down the road was the perfect ending to the day. Over a pizza, we discussed our plans for the next morning. I told Alex I would pick him up and drive us to the winery I had in mind, but he insisted he’d do the driving, despite only having his rental car. We finally agreed after his profuse insistence that he’d drive. So we parted ways after he dropped me off home.