I turn the knob and open the door a few minutes later. I put my hands in the pockets of my robe when I see that he is still in the same place as before. I move closer to face and he looks at me strangely, frowning. The tiny wrinkle that forms between her eyebrows makes me smile.
Samuel: Can I go now? (He asks with a mocking sparkle in his eyes).
I wince and nod, biting my lower lip. He smiles and comes closer, taking my face with both hands and then trying to kiss me. I am amazed by the fact that having already lost count of the many times I kissed him, a tingling circulates throughout my body every time I feel his breath colliding with mine. I had projections, I also went through something that could be called a courtship, but I did not go through something like that. I never felt stunned having a boy in front of me, nor so confused having him around.
May: Wait.
I say placing both hands on his chest when the distance between my lips and his is only summarized in insignificant millimeters that cannot prevent them from rubbing against each other. He opens his eyes and takes a step back, snorting.
Samuel: What a moment-ruin you are.
May: I don't ruin anything, I just make it better.
He looks at me and raises his eyebrows, bringing his hands to my waist.
Samuel: Kiss me then.
May (river): Stop, silly, I have to give you to ...
Samuel (interrupts me): Why are you so (I raise my eyebrows, adjusting the folded collar of his jacket) ... cold?
I sigh, tired of his complaints. I tie the fingers of both hands in his jacket, drawing his face to mine and finally join our lips. At first he does not react and you could say that he looks like a living statue that I am kissing, since he does not participate in the kiss at all nor does he seem to breathe. I feel it tense and perhaps it is due to the surprise of my so unexpected act. I bring my hands to his neck, circling them there and I feel his move on my back covered by the soft texture of the robe I'm wearing. I want to cry out when my feet no longer perceive the surface and his mouth seems lower than mine. I don't know since when, but his lips move at an unattainable speed and I even have a hard time keeping up with them. The scene is no longer related to the term "tenderness", since it exceeded the limits that this could have. I will just say that if we were in a place that was not the garden of a vacation home, but in a bedroom or something similar, this would easily get out of hand. As much as it costs me, I must admit that I like what it generates in me and what I want the least at this moment is for what I feel to end.
I am forced to separate when the air in my lungs can no longer breathe and he giggles, staring at me.
May: Are you going to keep saying I'm cold?
He doesn't answer or grimace, he just kisses me again, although in a much slower and more relaxed way.
May: I don't think I feel my legs anymore ... would you do me the favor of getting off?
I ask seeing that he doesn't even think about it. Although from the eyes of another the image of us may seem tender, the truth is that this "floating" only makes me feel uncomfortable.
Samuel: The truth is that I could not imagine a farewell like this.
He says after making my feet finally sit on the ground.
May: And it's not over yet.
Samuel (narrows his eyes): Well ... now I do take back what I said about you being cold.
May: I wanted to hear that.
I say reaching into one of the pockets of the robe and pulling out what I hid there from the moment I left the house for the last time. The object produces a noise similar to that of two metal pieces colliding with each other and finally comes out of the pocket, dangling from my fingers. Samuel notices it and looks at me blankly.
Samuel: They are the keys to the Mercedes (exclaims dryly).
May (seat): You understand.
He looks back at what I'm holding and frowns.
Samuel: Huh?
Holding out the keys to him.
Samuel: Don't even think about it.
May: Take them, Samuel.
Samuel: No, not crazy, look if your father finds out ...
May (I interrupt): That's my problem.
Samuel: He is going to fire me, not you.
May: No one is going to fire you.
I say placing the keys in the palm of his hand and closing his fingers, forming a fist.
Samuel: No Emily, I really can't.
Insist in a calmer voice.
May: It is not an order, it is an order.
I clarify making a face at him and he just sighs, surrendered.
May: Now come on, follow me.