The portable fan in the corner of our single cell apartment chopped and stirred the humid air, exhausted and on the verge of collapse. I grabbed the copy of this morning's paper and desperately waved it in front of myself in a futile effort to cool down. Of course, on this hot, stuffy, sweaty, gross afternoon in the middle of July, the air conditioning gave out. Just my luck. It would be hours before my roommate, Ivan, arrived home from his work at the car repair. He was always the burly fix-it-man, and while his tremendous height and thick build could be intimidating, most of the time he's a real softie. He appears to be so innocent, his darling smile could illuminate every apartment in this building - if only it wasn't accompanied by the eerie aura that follows at his footsteps. While at first he comes off as naive, deep down I think everyone could interpret how mentally cracked he was. Ivan had a tendency to frighten certain people, even myself at one point. I assume I'm just immune now to his somewhat strange ways after living with him for over a year now.
Soaking in the sweat of my defeat, I finally gave up hope on the dying fan and plopped onto the maroon sofa. Since venturing outdoors was pretty much out of the question due to the temperature being that of a fucking oven, I couldn't even bear to crawl out to the parking lot to retrieve my car and drive to somewhere with air conditioning that actually worked. I slicked my well-kept raven hair back into a ponytail, the back of my neck moist and uncomfortable. I laid in an afflictive, shirtless heap of to-go won-ton soup Styrofoam cups and old catalogs from stores I don't even shop at. The reel-to-reel tape player blasted "Got To Get You Into My Life" and I nearly strained my voice belting out the lyrics. I remained in this pathetic state for an indefinite period until a glorious rattling of keys sounded and Ivan arrived home. As the door swung open, I would've leaped from my position if I wasn't so terribly tired, merely by heat.
"Thank goodness you're home! Air condition has been broken since two o'clock, or at least since I got home from work," I breathed, bone-weary. He raised his eyebrows at me yet smiled knowingly.
"Oh Yao, you are so silly!" Ivan half-giggled and made his way toward the chunk of plastic in the corner. I folded my arms across my still bare (not like I really cared) chest and observed his steady actions and examination of the malfunctioning necessity. His thin tee shirt clung to his torso with perspiration, just slightly bending and curving around his muscles. Even in this one hundred and four degree sweltering, oppressive sultriness, a magenta scarf loosely hung around his neck. That thing was always attached to him, no matter what. I never bothered to question it, but now as I took the time to fully look him up and down while he was bent over and focused on this machine, it certainly made me wonder. However, I wasn't curious enough to make me interrupt his diligent work. Nor did I want to lose my chance to admire his impressive looks.
I suppose, after all of this time, I have developed a meager crush on him. I will admit that. I don't know for certain that it is unrequited; at some points he seems to have at least a bit of interest in me, but honestly it was probably my overly optimistic imagination combined with his childlike and curious demeanor. I wouldn't dare suggest to him that I might have feelings for him, so for now I will just immerse myself into thoughts of him. After about forty five minutes, a fond coolness began to pick up in the atmosphere of the room and I let out a relieved sigh and a thank you. After only sheer seconds of enjoyment was I met with yet another heat; the embrace of Ivan, his mighty arms wound around me and enclosing my chest against his. He always did like hugs, but this one seemed different. More affectionate, lingering longer, and a lot less platonic feeling.
"Next time, Yao, you should try to be more subtle when checking someone out," Ivan chuckled.