Punk Rock Ruined Me

(4) He Saved Me

I watched him, and he watched me. It was an intimate moment, and I was overcome with the urge to kiss him. I had to hold on to the edges of the couch to stop myself. It wasn’t a want for human touch, no. It was a want for his touch, and that in itself was strange to me. “Come on,” I said, getting up. “Let’s go clean that gash up.” I extended my hand.

“All right,” he said, taking my hand.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.

                Dexter intertwined his fingers with mine. “Come on, I’ll show you.” Our arms swayed as he led me through his roomy apartment.

                “So, do you live alone?” I asked.

                Dexter nodded. “Yeah, I had a roommate, but he got married last week.”

                “Ah, so, how many single friends do you have?” I asked.

                “One. But he has a girlfriend. And he’s madly in love. So I don’t expect him to stay single any much longer.” He wrinkled his face. “Personally, I think twenty-three is too young to be married. I mean, how are you supposed to be one with someone, when you haven’t even really found yourself?”

                “I completely agree,” I said. And I did. His insight on marriage was intriguing, actually. Made me wonder if me and him would ever…

                Stop right there, Liz, I told myself.

                “You okay?” Dexter asked, turning into a room.

                “Yeah,” I assured him as he flicked on the light switch. “Just… thinking.”

                “About what?”

                “Marriage.”

                Dexter smirked. “Oh, were you wondering if you and I would ever…?”

                “No!” I exclaimed, but I could feel the blush that was coming onto my face. I pushed it away, but the warmness urged on. “We’re not even dating yet.”

                “Yet?” Dexter asked, and I felt myself  turning even redder. “So, does that mean you expect us to date soon?” He got a white towel out of a cabinet and started wetting it with warm water.

                “No- I mean, yes – I mean. I don’t know, Dexter. What do you want?”

                “How about you clean up my gashes first?” he asked, gently handing me a warm, wet, cloth.

                “Okay…” I said, taking it from him. “Do you have any alcohol, or peroxide?”

                “Yeah, Dexter said, crouching down to get some bottle of hydrogen peroxide from under the sink. “Here,” he said, handing it to me.

                I put the cloth over the bottle’s mouth and turned it upside down. Once it was sufficiently wet, I turned the bottle back over, screwed the top back on and set it on the counter. I looked up into Dexter’s eyes. I had felt like someone was watching me, but I didn’t want to look at him, as it would cause me to want to kiss him again. Too late. Both of our breaths were hitching uneasily, as someone who was thinking about something exhilarating always did. My face was getting closer to his, and I was thinking about everything he did for me. We were strangers. But he put his own life in danger to save mine. I could never repay him enough for that. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. When I pulled away and came face to face with him, all I could manage were two words, “Thank you.”