Stars Behind My Eyelids

I held my breath for what seemed like an eternity. As I clamped my eyelids shut, stars started to form in the darkness — kaleidoscopic and mesmerising. Everything slowed to a dreamlike drift, and my heartbeat’s rapidly escalating pace threatened to fling the swollen organ across the dancefloor.

Just moments before my enraptured state, Susie — the girl I’d loved all through my first year at university — had agreed, with a hesitant smile, to be my girlfriend.

An old romantic trapped in the gangly body of an uncertain eighteen-year-old, I closed my eyes in expectancy of our first real kiss. We had previously locked lips at the turn of the new year, under a star-filled, firework-lit sky just outside the dirty, rainswept city of our childhood, Glasgow.

That had been something of a shambles — we were both green to the idea of merging bodies via trembling lips and ended up kissing each other’s shoulders. Living down the embarrassment of that, especially as we were on the same course, was a grand lesson in humility.

It hadn’t deterred my growing love for the girl, though it had made me worry that my ship had sailed and missed the dock completely. Her words — “Of course, dunderhead” — brought with them a rush of relief.

The wait, in reality, was mere seconds, but as the sound of the club drowned out the chatter around me, I was still and electric, motionless and kinetic all at once. A rush of goosebumps spread from my toes to my head as the shots I’d downed earlier began to work their magic.

My mind browsed its photo album of memories — the first time we met, vivid as if it were yesterday; our first argument and awkward reconciliation; our pact to remain friends no matter what — all leading to that failed New Year’s kiss.

I felt her heat meet mine, her body meet mine; even the music was drowned out by our combined heartbeats as our lips finally found each other’s.

The music soared as our trembling bodies clung together, oblivious to the round of applause from our friends around us. Tongues entwined, her hair against my cheek, her hands at my shoulders, mine at her waist.

*

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Author's Notes: I don't mind writing dark and bleak pieces, but I wanted to do something a bit different that had an uplifting ending. Not confusion, disorientation, or misery. I guess in a sense it's a rebellion against what I normally write. Either way, I'm happy.

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