Robbers

The Sacred Carnaval

I hold your hand and raise it above.
I engrave your figure on the drop of the pure rain falling from the seventh sky soaking my hair, my shoulders, my clothes and bare feet.
I drink your sweet scent in the cup of bitterness but it never comes to an end as if it was an unfailing source, a streaming tear, a drug.
I open my arms to the space, trembling, neither because I was cold nor afraid, I was only enjoying the sound of my ribs dislocating.
Between the infinite stars, between the infinite limits, I call you and call, you who was dancing your sacred inhuman dance around the moon of the moons.
I write your name with chalk on the walls of this archaic agenda. I write it over and over. Once my chalk comes to ashes, I bend a finger and repeat the process. Nobody will see it, nobody but me.
I innocently chanted around your temple of beauty.

I inhaled abruptly.

It felt like I wasn't breathing at all. It felt like I've left my body for an unmeasured period of time, a period that would be mistaking for ages.

I took a deep breath just to make sure I am not dead yet. I looked around.
It was dim but not dark enough that I barely could still distinguish the scenery from the glass in front of me and through the window on my left.
The lights were allowing in vain some meters of the road, blurried with the rushing drops of rain.

It was silent. And night.

The only sounds were that of the engine, the drops of rain smashed against the car and the only lights were those of the dashboard.

A thin thread flowed in front of my two eyes approaching little by little till it touched and slightly burned them. The familiar smell tickled my nose.

I inhaled it. But serenely this time.

I have never tolerated his nasty habit.
But that time, I didn't object or bother. I didn't fear anything even death.
I closed my eyes and shrunk inside his large sweater gathering my hands between my chest and knees.
I would be a fool and regret it to the last second of my miserable life if I didn't stock his smell deep in my lungs down to the core of my bones.
I felt warm.

Something exploded inside of me and I started craving for space.

"Open the window" I whispered.

He kept his hands on the steering wheel and looked at me for some seconds before he said:
"Okay, I promiss just give me two seconds to suck on the rest of it, I promiss, I'll quit."
He was referring to the rest of the cigarette leaning between his left index and middle finger.
He knew I always hated him smoking. But I didn't that time.

"Suck it as long as you want" I freed a hand and chased the button.

The glass slided down with a long full nastily melodious squeeze.
The cold air brushed my face and quickly turned to freezing arrows, still gentle on my lifeless skin.
I closed my eyes and let them all tickeling my face and my neck. My hair floated nonchalantly. It felt like I was swimming in a frozen lake.

"Get your head inside, you will catch a cold" his warm hand touched my shoulder trying to pull me inside.
I wanted to obey, to follow this soft hand but the appealing call of the indeterminate feeling kept me trapped in its translucent prison.

I ditched the hand and landed mines to the outside. The rain took them. I knew it when it soaked them as soon as they were out. It soaked my wrists and the sleeves of his shirt.
I loved it.

"Please Julia, come inside" his voice begged, a bit irritated. "I swear I will throw it now"

How much I loved provoking that tone of his, especially when calling my name.
I backed up, but still refusing to obey.
I grabbed the lower edge of his shirt and slided it up through my head and threw it under me the moment I stood up and headed, all of me, to the open window making my upper half free to the elements of nature.
I opened my arms as wide as my weak body handled and allowed to the holy water to wash the whole of me.
A snarl groaled inside of my chest that turned to a cough mixed with a laugh.
I coughed and laughed at the same time.
I laughed so hard while the water streamed down through my cleavage and stomack to my shorts.

"She gotta a face straight outta a magazine, God only knows but he'll never leave her" The 1975 played from his ancient stereo filling all the surrounding.
I thought I heard his laugh too.

I stared to the dark sky above me, struggling because of the rain. I wished for a full moon but it was fully dark. It was perfect in a particular way that I couldn't understand.
Light does not always mean the enlightenment and serendipity. Even in the darkest point in the universe you can have your part of both of these. Even in the darkest point of the universe, you don't need to be able to see to live and feel. We live the fullest and we feel the clearest once we're in the complete darkness. We have that rope that always bring us to ourselves, to overwhelm us and be our solace.
Mine was the thread of smoke belonging to his cigarette.
I pulled myself to the inside again. Gasping and through my dripping hair, I contemplated him.
He frowned at me but couldn't scold me. He kept a hand on the wheel and worked the other to the back vigorously. And it returned empty.
He jerked nervously in his place sliding his jacket down, freeing one hand just to occupy the other. His gaze flickered from the road to my face to th road again.
Finally, he abandoned it on my lap and said:
"Clean yourself fast and wear your shirt again, please don't get sick"
"If I could I won't, I promiss" I landed my right hand on my heart faking the most serious face I could make. Sarcastically.
He frowned even harder, and looked back to the road.
I giggled silently, not to pour gazoline on the fire.

"You knew I like this song" I stated trying to slide back the shirt and eventually rested my back.
He didn't answer me right away.

"That's why I played it... Aren't you sleepy?" He put with an even voice.

He didn't look back at me.
I would be mad if I slept and missed all this carnaval. Keeping his side was the kind of carnivals I die to assist.

"Not even a bit" I shrugged away.

"You look so cold, you look so cold, you look so cold"
The song kept repeating in its final part so I paid an ear.
He hummed and cough clearing his voice. He twisted his lips then bit the lower one.
His fingers danced on the wheel.

"Aren't you cold?" He finally talked.

"Not even a bit" I repeated provoking him. Provoking him was my favourite part in the carnaval.

He nodded and glanced to his left then back to the front, curling his lips again. He did never noticed that any person could tell much from such a gesture.
His smile showed up when I touched his brow tracing the lines of his globe.
I moved my finger in circles all over his cheeks.
He looked at me, his features no longer frowning but relaxed. His lips drew half a smile and his eyes were glowing like diamonds. Even more precious. Even clearer.
He couldn't carry the eye contact for longer than four seconds because he was driving but he reattached it as soon as possible.
His jaw was inclined a little making the bone more visible. His three-day unshaved chin rested calmly when I held it between my fingerstips.

"Everybody must be freaking out by now right?" he giggeled like a child in front of my sight.
I couldn't help but rushed a kiss on his warm cheek.