feasting on vultures

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After a few days of sunshine and half warm, half crisp air, fall had finally settled in thick. The evening hung lonely over the houses, accompanied by miserable weather only London town knew. Rain droplets ran down the illuminated windows in constant streams, creating a misty atmosphere. It was too dark to see without a light on inside now but still light enough to walk around with an umbrella and get some steps in. Fallen leaves clung to the sideway like bonfire smoke to clothes. The day was spent with him, again. What started with a coffee order and park walk turned into a movie at his place, followed by a showing of favourite tunes. The TV still ran on silent, flickering with colourful lights, creating shadows on his hardwood floors.

She's a silver linin', lone ranger ridin' through an open space In my mind, when she's not right there beside me

“I didn't know you liked Arctic Monkeys!” She said, listening to the bass driven song she recognized within the first few seconds while sorting through his impressive vinyl collection. The wooden cupboard he stored his records in still smelled of the waxy mixture and oil he used to polish it with, a distinctive scent woven into the air of his home and clothes. It lingered on his couch pillows, his scarf and basically every textile within the radius of his four walls. She could recognize the scent out of hundreds. 

“I don’t really.” He answered absently, busying himself with preparing some more coffee in his tiny kitchen.

“Why are we listening to their songs then? Aren’t they too - what did you call them - obnoxious for you?” Furrowing her brows in confusion, she looked behind her as he stepped out with two steaming mugs in his hands. His sweat pants hung low on his hips, revealing a bit of his tattooed skin underneath his hoodie with every step. His hair was a little different, messy even, from letting it grow out a bit longer than he usually did. She noticed the moment he pulled off his beanie after they decided to spend a little more time together and came in from the cold.

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out eventually.” That was all he had given her. Another riddle to solve, another quote she would wreck her head around, trying to figure out what he had meant. He did his fair share of that recently. It made her wonder if there was more to them then he was leading on.

“You know, you’re a mystery sometimes!” She proclaimed as she reached for the mug meant for her. Coffee with almond milk, just as she liked. He seemed to always have almond milk around when she was there yet he drank his coffee black. Their fingers slightly touched, resulting in a heated spark all the way down her spine. She had been getting those more often than not nowadays when they accidentally touched and it confused the fuck out of her. 

“It’s not that deep.” He shrugged, before he slouched down on the carpet next to her, fiddling with his phone in one hand while warming his other with his mug. She looked at him for a while, observing his fluttering lashes as his eyes scanned the phone screen.

“Meant to show you this ages ago. Listen to the bass line. To fucking die for.” His eyes lit up a little more as the first notes of a melody started playing. She had never heard that song before but she knew she was going to like it.

They settled into a known comfortableness as they chatted the hours away until she eventually had to get home because of an early shift at the office. They hugged good night for a moment too long, longer than friends normally would, without even overthinking it and parted ways for the next few days until they would meet again.

I guess what I'm tryin' to say is I need the deep end Keep imaginin' meetin', wished away entire lifetimes Unfair we're not somewhere misbehavin' for days

It was the birthday party of a shared friend, a cheerful gathering in a little pub they had rented out as a surprise. A faint mix of alcohol, sweat of older days and savoury snacks clouded the tiny space. The rustic looking bar was filled with bodies, pressing into each other closely. Whenever someone dared to move to another table, a wave of warmth and murmuring bodies rolled through the room, as if the air itself had to readjust. 

They were standing a bit off side with a few friends, reminiscing about shared memories. Once the group split up, few of them needing a refill, the others a smoke break or the loo, only the two friends remained.

“So, are you ever gonna tell me what that Arctic Monkey song meant or am I gonna die an unaware heathen?” The alcohol had reddened her cheeks slightly, her eyes were glassy and sparkled with mischief, resulting in her feeling brave enough to finally address the enigmas he had left at her feet. He looked at her quizzically, as if he didn’t remember what she meant before it hit him. A little blush crept up his cheeks but he gave her a standard answer, another breadcrumb for her to follow through his web of conundrums. He grabbed his beer a little tighter, his knuckles whitened at the strength as a sudden rush of realization came over him like a revelation. What if she had picked up on his intention?

She had noticed a change in his behaviour afterwards. He looked after her more, looked AT her more. Stole glances whenever she presumably wasn’t noticing. But she did. She felt his presence even when he was out of sight, and wished for accidental encounters when he talked to others. Wondering if he would ever speak his mind or if she simply just imagined things that weren't there, she let the insecurities win and shoved the thought far back in her mind so that she was able to attend the conversation going on around her. He dodged the question, responding with his own and the topic was forgotten again.

And I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be And satisfaction feels like a distant memory

“Earth to ****!” A waving hand broke him out of his trance. “What’s gotten you so flustered tonight?” The friend turned around, following the eye sight of his gaze. “Ah, the girlfriend!” He proclaimed.

“She’s not…” He was cut short by his friend who called bullshit the second he tried to speak, imitating him.

 “But you wish she was. It’s written all over your face. You’ve got it for her, bad!” Another chimed in. They knew him better than he thought, saw the longing in his eyes for months, maybe even before he actually realised it himself.

“And what would you know about it? You haven’t even touched a woman in god knows how long!” 

“Are you ever gonna do something about it, though? You know she won’t stick around forever!” His friend had asked, hitting an invisible bulls eye before moving on to another topic as quickly as they brought up the last one. While the friend group kept chatting away as if nothing had happened, the gears in his head turned on overdrive. Maybe he actually would do something about it? Maybe, the thought of asking her out wasn’t so deliberative? What if she would laugh in his face and joke about it, though? He didn’t dare thinking about it for too long, letting the conversation lure him in again but never fully taking his eyes off of her.

And I can't help myself All I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?

As the night settled and the bar rhythm ebbed down, they found themselves gravitating towards each other again like magnets. She came back from some fresh air and steered in his direction while he leaned against the wall of a darker corner, sipping on his drink. The need to talk to him and be close took over her, a feeling consuming her every sense. Their eyes met before either of them spoke while the noise around them had softened into background hums, faint laughter, the clinking of glasses, the soft echo of a song that was almost over but he knew she loved. She smiled, the kind of smile that asked a question without words.

“Enjoying yourself?” She approached, her voice half-drowned by the music. He let the words hang between them, his eyes tracing her face. The lights from the bar flickered over them, colors of amber and gold, then shadow before light again and she could feel the pause stretch, thick with something unsaid. He tilted his head, pretending to consider something she didn’t know was between them, noticing a rosy colour still lingering on her cheeks from the cold outside. His gaze lasted a heartbeat too long to be casual, too long for her to not have noticed. He shrugged, the corner of his mouth curving up. 

“I am now.”

Something about the way he said it made her pulse quicken. For a moment, neither looked away. She noticed for the first time how ocean blue his eyes truly were, sprinkled with flecks of green and turquoise when looked at really closely. She had never dared to truly see them before. The air between them grew thicker somehow, full of an awareness and an anticipation neither dared to act on. They were holding back for months and it was getting apparent.

When someone brushed past them in a hurry, she lost her stand and suddenly stumbled forward, colliding with his chest. His hand automatically found her back, holding her steady. Her breath hatched as the rest of the room seemed to fade. She laughed softly, covering her sudden nervousness by tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His eyes followed the motion, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but held back.

While time seemed to stand still for them, he allowed his fingers to softly slide down her back towards her hips. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, smell the faint trace of his sweet cologne mixed with smoke and something darker as he interlocked their fingers with a soft touch. Around them, the music had changed to a slower track now, something more farewell than party. People were gathering coats, voices fading toward the door, but they didn’t mind. It was as if the room had folded in on itself, leaving only the two of them suspended in a moment neither wanted to break. 

And the thrill of the chase moves in mysterious ways So in case I'm mistaken I just wanna hear you say, "You got me baby" Emboldened by the alcohol running through her system, she leaned in closer. Close enough for her to catch the warmth of his breath. The feeling of her body pressed against him made him dizzy as she held his gaze. He wanted to say something, make a funny remark or joke about something but the words stuck in his throat. A need consumed him. The need to finally act on his feelings, finally holding her close and exploring the options of what it could mean.

Her presence made his pulse spike as the conversation about her from earlier came to mind. Eventually, he needed to show her or else it would end before it ever started. Before they ever actually had the chance to be something. He knew he had to act now before this moment slipped away.

“It’s quieter back there!” He suggested, tilting his head toward a narrow hallway leading away from the open room. She hesitated just long enough for him to notice, making him almost regret his question but then she agreed softly. “Yeah, okay.”

He put down his pint glass and dragged her lightly behind him. A quiet question laid in the gesture as he guided her through the dim corridor, their hands still intertwined, until the bar’s laughter faded behind them. His nerves were all over the place at the potential scenarios running in his head.

She leaned against the wall, and when she looked up, he was already closer than before. His eyes wandered to her lips and before he could overthink, he cupped her cheek and kissed her. Soft and hesitant at first, then deepening into something more passionate.

As their lips parted, a small, almost breathless laugh escaped her. She pressed a hand lightly against his chest, just to anchor herself, to remind herself that this was real. He stayed close, forehead nearly touching hers, eyes tracing every curve of her face as if memorizing it like a map. The world behind the corridor had ceased to exist; the fading music and distant chatter were nothing more than a soft hum at the edge of perception. They were stuck in their own little orbit.

She leaned into him again, feeling the warmth of his body seep into hers. “I…” She began, but the words dissolved into a smile, a shared understanding that no explanation was necessary. He brushed his finger softly along her jaw, the simple motion feeling intimate, tender, almost reverent before the urge to do it again grew unbearable. They leaned into each other once again, this time more raw but still laced with all the words unsaid between them.

Eventually, the quiet around them became noticeable. The bar had emptied further, chairs were stacked, and the glow from the remaining lights felt unusually soft, almost protective. He glanced toward the door when their lips departed, a flicker of hesitation in his gaze before he whispered.

“Want to get out of here? Continue this somewhere quieter?”

Her heart jumped, a mix of anticipation and something more reckless. She nodded, fingers tightening around him. They moved back into the main room, hands still intertwined, and gathered their coats. The world outside the corridor seemed to reassert itself as they stepped out into the cool night, the air brushing against their flushed cheeks.

All I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?"Well, are you mine? Are you mine tomorrow?Are you mine? Or just mine tonight?

They waited for the Uber to arrive as the humid, cold weather sobered their slightly buzzed minds. The drive was filled with the kind of small, charged touches that made the air between them almost electric. She felt his hand brush against hers, the occasional accidental contact of a shoulder or hip, each touch magnifying the tension that had been simmering for months. Every glance, every half-smile, every quick intake of breath was a conversation in itself.

She leaned slightly closer, the smell of him, his body heat and a comfortable silence, wrapping around her. Streetlights cast shifting shadows across their faces, highlighting the flecks in his eyes and the curve of her smile. Fingers found hands again, lingering, until holding became impossible to resist.

Neither spoke much and it didn’t need any words; the quiet was punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional laugh when one tried to break the tension with something trivial. Every pause, every glance, every subtle movement pulled them closer together until, by the time they finally reached his apartment, neither could pretend that the night hadn’t already shifted into something inevitable special.

He opened the door, letting her step inside first. The apartment they had spent countless hours and evenings in, alone but comfortable, was cast in a dim glow from the street lights outside and gentle shadows on the walls. He didn’t bother turning on any light, there was no use for it anyway. For a moment, they simply stood there, taking in the small space that now felt entirely intimate. She took off her coat, feeling his eyes on her, following every motion. When he reached to help her, taking the coat off of her, their hands found each other again and it fell to the floor. They didn’t bother at all as their fingers entwined, and she realized with a flutter that the distance between them had vanished entirely.

He stepped closer, just close enough for her to feel the heat of his body against hers once more, and smiled softly, almost shyly. She tilted her head, allowing him the space, looking at him with intent. His fingers found her face again before he kissed her once more - slower this time, exploratory, savoring. He took his time with her, needing to explore whatever it was between them in his own tempo. He was sick of overthinking, wrecking his brain with questions of self doubt, thinking she was out of his league.

Right now, she was there with him, looking at him like he was the only one she ever saw. Her hands slid over his arms, pulling him closer and the apartment, the night, and everything outside it seemed to vanish, leaving them suspended in a moment that was theirs, raw and tender and utterly real with possibility. When they stumbled towards his bedroom and the door fell shut behind them with a loud bang followed by laughter which surely would anger the upstairs neighbours, he held her in his arms with the intention of not ever letting her go. Of making it count. They exchanged kisses and touches and breaths in the intimacy of his bed until the early morning hours and as they laid entwined, he whispered to her.