I Will Hurt You

I will hurt you, Date, Dating, Dinner, Restaurant

In a few minutes, you will walk through that door.

It is a beautiful night. You are a beautiful lady. We’ve been talking for days. Sending messages back and forth – text, WhatsApp, Facebook. We’ve met casually a couple of times in our daily life. Had a few conversations.

Today, I am delighted that you agreed to come on a date with me. And it’s a real real date, nothing pretentious. I told you I liked you. A lot, I said. Smiling bashfully, you said that you did not mind my company either. This you said with your mouth. But your eyes said much much more. And I heard that.

And I like that you like me. A lot.

We have talked for quite a while now. I know a bit about you. Your love for coffee. Black coffee. Your cute love for burgers, which I don’t get, but hey.

I know your scent. You call it Forbidden Euphoria. It’s a good one. I will associate it with you for a long time. Chances are that I will never date any other woman who wears that scent though. Because it is now synonymous with you. That is not a bad thing either.

When you eventually grace me with your presence (You are running late. The traffic jam on Waiyaki way is holding you up, you said. I am a patient man) I am not the first person you will see when you walk through that door. I will however spot you immediately you walk in. That is because I chose a strategic seat at the upper side of the restaurant. I will send one of the waiters (not waitresses) to come and bring you upstairs. Then I will watch how you interact with him as he leads you to me.

I am the perfect gentleman.

Of course I will stand up to say hi. Peck on this cheek. Another peck on that cheek. My hand will ‘absentmindedly’ rest on your small waist. Eye contact will be dished generously too. How have you been? You look ravishing. That dress you have on…so, so…exquisite. I will take a minute to appreciate the whole ensemble of you. You will blush at my obvious admiration. I know. I do that to womenfolk. I enjoy it too.

I am an arsehole.

I will pull out the chair for you to sit nonetheless. Make sure you are comfortable before I go ahead and take mine.

I will order a drink for you. I think I know what you will have, but I will ask anyway. Because good men don’t make assumptions. They ask. Because you might have wanted wine yesterday but feel like tonight is the whiskey kind of night. Or the vodka kind of night. So, no assumptions. You will most likely want red wine. Sweet. Just like you.

There I go again.

I will be right. We will enjoy our drinks in chitter-chatter. We will order dinner and eat leisurely. There will be no hurry. I will grab a chance. Or two. Yes, two, to brush the hair off your face or remove a speck of food from the side of your mouth or touch your elbow, or your wrist. I will crack a few jokes…I have several lined up my sleeve. I will smile a lot. I will look at you and hold your eyes for a minute such that you might forget to breathe in that minute – I hope you do.

Once the meal is out of the way, I will suggest that we go somewhere less quiet. Somewhere more alive. With more noise, less formality. Somewhere we can let loose and enjoy the rest of the night.

We will get more drunk because, Uber.

And more drunk. We will dance. I will laugh at my inability to dance. You will coax me to try it anyway. I will get touchy on the dance floor. Not in a weird kind of way – and I know how off-putting that kind is. But in a sweet hesitant kind of way. I will start by touching your waist. Feeling you gyrate your hips. Eye contact. I will depend on your eyes to tell me whether I should go ahead or abort mission. Red light or green?

I hope to see green. But like I said, there will be no rush. You will move closer to bridge the gap between us. Maybe this will be the alcohol working with me? For me? Maybe not. But I look forward to that. I will let my hand go all the way to the small of your back. Use my other hand to touch your arm, your face, your hair. In that moment, you will be the only thing that exists for me.

I will bring you close to me. So close that my body will speak to yours – you’ll see how. I will hold your eyes too. In that moment, you will read my thoughts.

I will ask if you are ok. You will say yes. Hopefully.

Are you sure?

Yes.

I will bring my other hand to touch your face. I will touch your lips. You will part them for me, won’t you? I will then lean in for a quick kiss. I will keep it gentle and moist. Then I will pull back.

We will continue dancing. I will hold you tenderly. Allow you to lead the way. Please do. You will let loose. Dance like you’ve never danced before – this I assume. I will check to see if you are having a good time.

Are you enjoying yourself?

Yes.

The answer will be yes.

Even when I undress you. Yes, when I inhale the exotic scent of your smooth skin as I cover it with kisses. Yes, when we get into the nude animalistic rhythm of give and take – and boy will I savour this.

Yes!

So many times, yes!

I will take you home in the wee hours of the morning.

I will thank you for the wonderful night.

I will never call or ask to see you again.

I see you standing at the door now. Looking around the restaurant full of diners. Hoping to see me. You’ll see me in a minute beautiful. In a minute.

Now where is that waiter when you need him?

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20 thoughts on “I Will Hurt You

  1. And I will hurt you in return. I will make you narrate your story or is it mine as you beg me to forgive you. But I will not. It will be my time for Vengeance . 🙁

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