This Is Gillian (After All)
'13 (just a couple of minutes later, really)
He's not even sure where he's going. His car is somewhere in a completely different direction, his home not even close, the office not an option. A bar surely must be on the way—a bar always is.
Left or right, right or left.
He can hear her turn the corner behind him. Her shoes with the (to him) unmistakable sound of clickety-click give her away before her angry breathing is upon his shoulder and her fingers clasp his upper arm.
When he turns around, he is expecting a prolongation of this anger, but he sees something else instead.
"I won't be one of your bad decisions," she says. Determination as well.
"I've always hoped you wouldn't be."
For a moment he thinks she is about to slap him. Or a good old kick in the balls maybe. He's deserved it for sure. Suddenly he isn't sure of anything he might have seen and when she comes closer he backs off almost instinctively. But she still manages to place her hands on both sides of his face anyway and kisses him with peppermint sweetness. The cool pungency sizzles underneath.
"Where are you going?" she wants to know just a couple of seconds later.
"I don't know."
"Sounds good. Can I come with you?"
She can. She will. This is exciting, is all he can think.
THE END