• Hazel Mai

Kiss a stranger at the club

Photo by kevin laminto on Unsplash

Kiss a stranger at the club.

Yep, that is it. I kissed a stranger at the club. Or to be correct he kissed me. So strongly and passionately.

I cannot say that I think about him all the time until now, because I don't. But every now and then it pops up in my mind, asking what happened that night. The second night I was in this chaotic country. The second night since I was apart from my love. And the first time I've been to a club.

Let's think about what happened that night.

It was a nice club. I felt excited as blood ran through my veins when I stepped into it. And I did enjoy every minute I experienced in that club. I drank two cups, it was vodka mixed with soda and ice. It was good in fact, sweet and wasn't too bitter, maybe because I told them to use just a little vodka. And I danced as the alcohol freed my body. I felt alive. I laughed. I watched people showing their moves off on the stage, some of them are from the flat and their friends. They danced like Micheal Jackson, and so did I. Haha. Just kidding, I didn't dance like MJ, but I did dance with every parts and cells that my body had. Floating in the loud music. Forget that I was in something like a uniform. So what, I didn't care, and nobody cared either!

And so he approached me. I didn't know why. Still until this time, I wondered if he came to dance with me because of anything else besides interests. I hope not. I even thought maybe the flatmates thought I was so shy that somebody needed to go and talk to me, and they just asked that super tall, long-haired, white Brazilian (they were all Brazilians!) to do. I noticed that he had danced on the stage several times before. And when he came to me I let him and joined his moves. I told you, I didn't care. I didn't care who he was and why he approached me. We danced together, floating in the music. Time was getting on and I was still with him, I didn't know how long we danced like that together. Maybe three minutes, five minutes, or even thirty minutes. I looked at him in the eyes, he had beautiful eyes and they were glowing as he looked at me. I felt like he looked at me the whole time when we danced together. I tried to look back several times, but he was too tall and we were standing too close that my neck painfully opposed every time I tried to look up. But just during those short connection I felt like kissing him, you know, I was drinking wine. But I didn't move closer to him, I was too short to take the first step. I wondered if he was feeling the same. And not too long later he answered me by leaning down to kiss me. I felt his lips and tongue as they pressed to mine, and I kissed him back.

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