the Grey - Chapter II - Reawakening pt.2
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He exited the gate, closed it behind him, and waited for Carlo to catch up before taking his first step toward the beach.
They walked slowly in silence, watching the deep blue of the sea draw closer.
“Yesterday you made a mistake leaving. We had a blast.” Carlo said with a hint of reproach.
“I was bored.”
“Well, after you left, we went down to the beach, stole a couple of wooden planks, you know, the ones leading to the beach by the third block?” Luca nodded. “And we made a bonfire! If the administrator had seen us, we’d have been running for real! Then Francesco brought his guitar, and those two drunkards Giuseppe and Piero brought booze. We had a blast. What did you do?”
“I went home and played the bass guitar for a bit.”
“Always with that thing.”
Luca remained silent.
“You know, you should be careful leaving Chiara alone too often. Last night, more than one guy approached her after you left.”
His heart sped up.
“Who?”
“Francesco from the south block. The one with curly hair who looks like Maradona. And Vincenzo, the blond one. Others too, I don’t remember.”
“They’re all wimps. She’s not interested.”
“Still, you should be careful. She’s so courted that if you keep this up, she’ll get tired eventually.”
“Look, I know her well, definitely better than you. Now can you stop giving me relationship advice?” He said, irritated.
“Do what you want. It’s your problem anyway.”
Carlo was shorter than him, with wavy brown hair moving in the wind and a bit of a belly. He wasn’t a bad guy, sometimes he was funny, Luca had fond memories of laughing with him during their shared childhood summers. Lately, though, he found him increasingly shallow and dull, avoiding their usual afternoon bike rides or chats on the beach at sunset. And as he drew farther, Carlo seemed to seek his company more insistently, morning, afternoon, evening. Sometimes Luca was so annoyed by his calls that he would preemptively head out, making himself unavailable.
Raising his gaze, he saw the beach emerge from behind the dune. The blue umbrellas lined up in two parallel rows. People gathered under them in small groups. He recognized his evening companions clustered under two adjacent umbrellas, chatting animatedly. The sea was calm and blue, white foam broke against the pale legs strolling the shore. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was scanning for her, impatient, curious about her outfit today, the sun’s reflection on her hair, her first words to him, the movements of her hands. He softened, smoothing his sharp inner edges. Even Carlo’s company felt less oppressive for a moment, even complementary, fitting.
At last, his gaze found her, the familiar figure he had been searching for. And in that instant, the world shifted. Everything he had imagined a second before dissolved into irrelevance.
She stood there, and he was lost. Again. Her ability to amaze him constantly in the most unintentional ways. A constant source of wonder, flowing from her like something elemental, like spring water from untouched earth. That was the secret, he realized. The thing that drove him mad. The thing that set his mind alight, that stirred the inexplicable longing inside him. That amazed him every day capturing his precious attention. A spark he believed, with pride, only the rarest souls were ever worthy of witnessing.
She stood under a front-row umbrella, one hand resting casually on her hip, her eyes turned out to sea. Her blonde hair, curled by salty water, danced gently in the wind. The play of light and shadow on her back, the sensual dream that animated it subtly, hidden from the meditative thoughts of the morning, ready to be awakened at the cockcrow.
Between the shoulder blades two soft dimples framed the elegant arc of her spine. A delicate S-curve traced from the base of her neck down her back, widening slightly at the waist, full and alive, and down from there falling down in a frenetic cascade, his eye lost in the vigorous current of fresh waters, reaching the end hungry, waiting for the explosion. All the strength accumulated in the descent to finally escape from under the shiny skin and solidify in a sublime form of absolute beauty, the sacred expectation growing, pumping visceral heat, resisting for a moment longer, a little longer, before the decision to lower the eye, finally ready, abandoned to the idea, give in to its power, be a slave of bliss, overwhelmed by it.
There the curve narrows, becomes thin, and then disappears, like a gentle comma. The roar of a waterfall negated. The end of the journey signaled by the two small lumbar dimples. Their shadow drawing subtle circles on the golden skin. The crowning after the extreme effort, the wicked descent, them as a reward, radiantly announcing the end of the dangerous path, and finally allow surrender, exhausted and smiling.
He felt an urge to raise his hand and call her name with all of his might, run to her, grab her, and sprint together, throw themselves into the sea, swim away, go far, speak no more, but swim until the end of the sea, and let her be his only sustenance, forever.
His brain sent the signal. His arm moved.
“Do you understand?”
He froze, reality snapping back. He found himself confused at its edges.
“Huh?”
“Did you hear what I said?“ Carlo’s face looked annoyed.
“Crystal clear!”
Luca walked away in long strides, heading toward her. Approaching from behind, his feet sank into the sand as he slowed, wrapping his arms around her waist, hands meeting at her navel. He rested his palms on her stomach, feeling its warmth, his lips lightly against her shoulder. He inhaled deeply. She shivered for an instant at the unfamiliar touch, then relaxed, leaning into him. They stood there for a few seconds, both unsated by the closeness, taking deep breaths.
She lifted her right arm and stroked his cheek, fingertips soft against his skin.
“I love you.” She said.
“I know.“
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