you'll kill me if you stop ☼ call me by your name & kill your darlings

two

that seemed to be our game, catching the other staring. or him catching me. he didn't seem to have much interest in staring at me. 

i quickly moved my gaze to the record player, turning infinitely, a dance more than a song. 

"so you do enjoy liszt. figures."

i felt embarrassed. "yes," i managed to choke out.

"so he speaks!" he took a drag of the cigarette, closing his eyes and swaying his head to the music. then, almost in slow motion, he opened one eye, squinting the other, and said very quietly, "but does he dance?" 

he stared to approach me with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. he took my right hand in his left, lacing our fingers together as if it was a movement completed many times before this moment. his other hand found my waist, and i froze. 

this man, this stranger, joined our hands as if i were a woman he had danced with before, the sonata now much louder than i remember, and he laughed. 

"first time?" he asked, lifting his hand from my waist to take the cigarette out while he spoke. my skin tingled where his touch just was. his shirt was unbuttoned like it was in the library, an appetizer of skin, not on display but still there on the menu. 

"at what?" i said, taking the debonair persona on, myself, although it didn't seem to fit right, or just needed to be broken in a bit. 

he allowed himself a chuckle, a deep crackle of joy. i started to smile. he didn't answer me. 

he sighed and smiled, teeth and all, "first times," he said. "i love them." when he talked with the cigarette in his mouth he sounded muffled and raspy. "i wish to live an entire life composed simply and only of firsts," he said, and we continued to awkwardly sway, my hand now on his shoulder. 

he separated from me and offered me the cigarette. 

"oh, no thanks," i said. "i don't smoke." i wiped my hands on my pants and bit my lip.

he raised an eyebrow and almost unnoticeably licked his lips. "to first times," he said, taking a drag, and then offered me the cigarette again.

i took it. i took a breath, inhaling the same chemicals once going into the boy's system. i wanted to feel what he was feeling. the puff was terrible. he chuckled again. was my presence just an afternoon laugh for him? what was i even doing here? i coughed from the smoke. he took another drag. 

"oliver," he said, offering his hand. i shook it. 

"elio," i replied. "perlman," i added. 

he squinted with his eyebrows more than his eyes and nodded, like i was an old friend he had forgotten the name of. he didn't tell me his last name.

"to first times, elio," he said. my name in his mouth made me smile and sent a shiver down my chest. each letter that i had heard thousands of times before sounded so different i didn't even recognize the syllables as belonging to me. oliver took ownership of them. "and to many more," he raised his cigarette like a wine glass and took a long drag, closing his eyes. 

someone called out from downstairs, "elio perlman? there's a phone call for you!"

i sighed and slowly started to walk backwards. "i should, i should better get that. you going to the social?" i said as oliver grabbed his coat. 

"only the most anti-social go to an event that is actually called one," he replied, smirking. 

he followed me outside and i jogged to the phone. it was my mom.