The room is bright and airy like the rest of daytime Japan. I undress in front of the large glass balcony doors. The lights of the city shine out in patterns across the city skyline, dots and blurbs of red, blue, and yellow amongst the purple-black. I hear the rustling of clothing behind me.
My stomach dips at the sound. I focus on a car moving along the street below and try to keep myself steady with my hand pressed to the curtain.
But then, you're behind me. Your hands curve around my waist and you press yourself, bare and warm, against me. Your mouth finds the place where my neck and shoulder meet and your soft lips open to taste me, to nip and suck. Your beard scrapes my skin.
I reach up to frame your head with my hand. I whisper your name. "Something's missing."
"I know," you respond and your hand wanders between us. It tickles down my back to rest on the underside of my behind.
A laugh warbles from me and I invite your touch. "I meant the heels, remember? Green to match."
You click your tongue in understanding and leave me naked in the room. I hear you opening the suitcase and rummaging. I'd like to turn my head to see if you're watching me, but I resist and wait to be summoned.
Finally, you say my name. The sheets crinkle and when I view you, sitting on the edge with the emerald heels in your hands, I forget all effort.
I feel wispy when I approach you. I grab at your shoulders and wrap myself around you to sit on your lap. Adulation overwhelms me.
The slightness of your form is so good and warm and soft. I curl around you. I ache to bring you closer. You're beneath me, your mouth is opening to take mine and your hands are splayed over me. I taste you with my tongue and receive the low, continuing bitterness of the Japanese tea from the plane. You pull away with pink lips and look up at me.
"I was thinking, when we were in the shop, how pretty you are. You are so pretty," I murmur and handle your messy curls. "I want to see you painted and sculpted."
But you are already kissing me again. You tug me towards you until we're sprawled on the bed. You set my blood vessels on fire with your teeth and tongue, lingering in that fleshy spot at the concave of my collarbone. You take a finger to the silver chain of the necklace, follow it to the pendant, watch me with those dark eyes.
How sweet you are as we make love with you above me. My eyes close and my mind wanders to Pangbourne, where I'd like to live with you on the water and stargaze in the evening. I cross back and forth between the planes of pleasure and daydream. We're baking bread at Pangbourne. We cut slices and eat it in the morning.
The feeling in my stomach is there. I try to chase the growing ache, but it's too late as you sigh in my ear. You always reach the end before me.
When you leave me, I feel like a candle extinguished. You rise to the bathroom, where you return with a towel to dab at me and the bed underneath.
I watch you and you smile with just a small raise of your lips.
My name fills the room. "You are so good," you praise. You tug at my ankle gently and the weight beneath shifts as you crawl back on to the bed. I let go of held air and bring myself beside you.
You murmur, "We'll have to have the heels next time.
I nod with an open mouth. "How soon will next time be?"
A reply shrugs from you and some of your hair falls from your shoulder to your back. "Whenever you feel up to it."
My lips feel terribly dry; I lick them twice before asking, "What about after we leave Japan?"
Your hands find me and pull me close. I must look small here, curled to you like this, having my worries comforted by your fingers.
"We'll see," you whisper and I hold you close. You lean away and our sticky skin separates before you switch off the light. I hold the scent of your body, salt and grass and wet pavement, deep in my lungs.