𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 - 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚔

concert hall.

"Rami, we can eat here. I also liked this restaurant. "

He perceives the tone of despair in my voice. "I'm going to take you to McDonald's. " His hand rests on my thigh like he's trying to calm me down. Your fingers are in the inner side, giving me the shiver. Your smile is sincere, overwhelming and soothing at the same time. Your hand slips until it reaches mine and our fingers interweave. His fingertips are cold. He turns his attention to traffic and we get out of line.

The route is fast, six blocks later, we've spotted the drive-thru. We make our requests to the machine next to Rami. My hand searches my purse until I find my wallet. Rami looks at me, raising an eyebrow. "What?" I ask as if I had no idea.

"I pay," his voice is confident and firm. Your hand goes to your trouser pocket, taking your wallet and then your debit card. I put my wallet back in my purse and try to hide the smile from the side that I can't help. He takes our orders, handed them over.

"So you like McDonald's" he starts, in an accuser and funny tone at the same time.

I can't help laughing. I cover my mouth with my hand, for still having a big piece of hamburger between my teeth. "I'm very healthy, thank you." He laughs, biting his straw. He drives the car on the left side of the street and I know he feels weird since he's sitting on the right side of the car. He's driving down a different path, and he seems to get lost in his thoughts for a few seconds. He picks up some fries with his eyes fixed on the street. We talked a little bit about the movie set and the city.

•

"So your father is Michael Moore?" he says in awe. "I remember watching his documentary in college." He was in college, I was nine years old. I'm not going to lie that the age difference between us is intriguing. But he's different. He is mature, confident, sweet and gentle at the same time. He's very different from the others. We arrive at this large illuminated building, where suitcases stack and cars turn around. The Ritz.

"I don't know much about London so I thought I'd bring you to my hotel. This is the only place I really know." He says, getting out of the car with the rest of the food we haven't eaten yet. He delivers the key to the valet. "I still lose myself a little in the studio so..." He adds, turning around behind the car. In those seconds, I see two men pointing cameras at us. They're both across the street, behind a streetlight. Rami encloses me with his arm, hugging me by the shoulders and taking me inside. We climb the stairs and in an act of boldness, I embrace him, too, by the waist.

The interior is cozy but still luxurious. All the staff, dressed in a royal blue, walk through the entrance lounge. For a moment, Rami stops walking and I'm standing in the midst of several unknown people. Some look at us, without understanding anything, some know who we are but are reluctant to approach us. Rami looks sideways like he's looking for something or someone. He loosens my body, just to grab my hand. He walks in broad steps and I follow him, nervous. We climbed the stairs quickly. Concert Hall.

The plate indicates the concert hall, above the wooden door with golden knobs. He opens the door, revealing a dark and spacious place. We sneak in and Rami closes the door behind us. I see a switch on our side. The various buttons give me no choice but to tighten them all. The place illuminates, in a yellowish tone, revealing the tufted carpet and chairs stacked in the corner of the room. The sound of the bag being thrown on the floor scares me. Rami turns to me and takes a few steps, getting rid of the space between us.

"I don't know if you'd be comfortable in front of other people, so I brought you here. I knew the room would be empty." His face is close to mine and I feel his rhythmic and warm breathing near my skin. "I thought taking you to my room would scare you." Just hear him say it, it's scared me a little. My breath is fast and short and my eyes are fixed on his lips. His hand caresses my arm, reaching my elbow. Your face bends sideways and I feel your eyes on my lips too. My body bends over, making whatever our bodies touch.

All I want now is his kiss, his touch, his caresses. Feeling his lips in mine has become a necessity since the last time we were alone, a few days ago. I no longer care about his first day on the set: that kiss meant nothing. This is going to mean something. Rami's hand gropes my face and his thumb brushes my cheek. He can kiss me as he pleases. His face approaches mine and our lips touch gently. Oh, his lips are so soft and warm. My hand embraces his body in the back, bringing his body even closer to mine. His tongue asks for permission affectionately, a muffled moan comes out of my throat and with veracity, his tongue explores every corner of my mouth. His hand wanders from my face to my neck, stopping on my naked back. That's better than I thought. His breath is calm, but his tongue is desperate as if a kiss was not enough.

My leg is intertwining in his. My will is to stay like this for hours, but when I get it, Rami moves away a few inches just to give little smooches on my lips, decreasing the frenetic pace we were a few seconds ago. With his fingertips, he pulls the hair out of my face. His eyes fixed on mine and a little smile aside, our arms still pulling each other. Our breath calms down. "I waited all night to kiss you like this."