The Collection

“Hold me tighter.”

Those were the first three words she had said to me since we had slipped into bed, where replacing the fading warmth of the shower with the embrace of the blanket. I could feel her smooth skin on my arms, the pair of us stuck together like glue, my hands wrapped around her waist clinging in a combination of desperation and relief. Feeling her body warmth was comforting; the evidence of us both being warm blooded creatures reassured me that everything in that moment was real, despite how fantastical it felt. For every breath she took I could feel her shift around, each light exhale sending tingles down my spine. I pulled her in slightly, feeling her frail body push against mine in even more places than before, our legs meeting and her head lightly pressing against my chest. I quietly did my best to etch the moment into my brain, not wanting to forget what was likely going to be one of the best moments of my life.

The first time we had met was online. At first, she was a friend of a friend, who had the same interests as me; some stupid video game or movie, something I would probably be ashamed of liking five or so years down the line. I wasn’t even aware that she was a girl until a few weeks into talking to one another. Slowly but surely, we became closer; even our friends picked up on it, doing the usual annoying thing of ‘shipping’ us. After the seventeenth time it started to get annoying, but that didn't stop it from niggling away in the back of my mind. I found out later that she had asked our friends to do it so that I would become more conscious of her as a potential partner. It worked, but I would never admitted it to her.

After losing my second parent to an accident, I fell into a deep depression. A shell of the person I had been before, constantly worrying about the future, but never coming up with any sort of proper plan to take a step forward. Just working day in and day juggling three jobs that I hated, not entirely sure of what I actually wanted in life. Forcefully, I told myself that it was what I wanted; a simple and safe life was better than a homeless one. Still, she was there for me, seeing through the easily constructed facade that came with text messages. I remember when she told me what had tipped her off; it was something as simple as my tendency to ignore punctuation. I had never thought somebody else would be able to see through me that easily, but it seemed that I wasn’t as good of an actor I thought I was.

At my lowest moment, that’s when I found out about her feelings towards me. Without thinking, I told her that I felt the same way back; not that it was a lie. The two of us put our heads together, eventually coming up with a plan for the next three years of my life. I quit two of my part time jobs and used the time I saved to learn how to become a bartender, slowly building up to serving drinks regularly. I had always liked hearing stories from strangers, all that I was doing was doing that face to face instead of through text. Becoming busier left me with less time to talk to her, but we still managed to stay close, trading self-deprecating jokes like they were punches.

Once the three years were up, I woke up to a message congratulating me from her, alongside a few photos. One in particular caught my eye; she stood next to a disapproving middle-aged man, peace sign over her left eye. After a search to confirm my suspicions, it was clear as day who that was, alongside why she had labelled the photo ‘My dad!!!’. I had been speaking to the daughter of one of the richest men in the world for a little over five years.

“Since I’m 18 now, pa said I’m allowed to come over and crash at your place! Expect me to be there within a week, okay?”

From that point, my life became a blur. Any space moment was spent cleaning up my mother’s belongings and placing them into storage; a girl probably wanted her own room, right? I was told off by my colleagues a few times for having a dumb grin on my face during that week, but I was too high in the clouds to care. Sunday morning, I went off to the airport to get her in my second hand car, not entirely sure if what was happening was real. There she was; wearing a pink and white shirt, dangerously short skirt and cutesy hairstyle, she almost immediately pouncing on me as I came into sight. We irritated anyone we came across with our obnoxious flirting until we made it to my car, the pair of us almost glowing with joy as we drove back to my suburb. She seemed happy despite my cheap lifestyle; she even complimented my garden, something I had barely managed to maintain since my mother had passed. She dumped off her luggage into my mothers’ room and I made her lunch, since she seemed so opposed to going out to a restaurant. Soon enough, the two of us came to the silent conclusion that the next course of action was to cuddle.

So here we lay, in near silence as we silently came to terms with the fact that we had made it work. Finally, the fruits of my labour had come to some sort of fruition. After a few moments of quiet, she shifted even closer, tapping my ear with her hand as her chest and legs met mine. Leaning in, she whispered into my ear.

“Tighter.”

Following her instructions, I squeezed her lightly, trying to ignore the numbing feeling that was beginning to form on my left arm which was positioned underneath her. I felt how soft she was, how frail humans could be and felt strangely reinvigorated.

“Tighter.”

My light squeeze became a solid hug; the type that would be proceeded by a ‘no homo’ and swiftly concluded with a pat on the back. For a moment, I could hear her breath escape her in the form of a quiet moan, but I decided not to point it out in the event it was embarrassing for her. Her palms were now on my collarbone, with her arms pushed down along the side, pinned by her body and my arms.

“Tighter.”

Slightly nervously, I squeezed harder. Not entirely sure if this was normal among the other gender or not, I held back against going for a full force bear hug; that hadn’t been performed since I was in early highschool, which was a painful memory for me.

“Are you a man? Tighter.”

I looked down at her for a moment, seeing no sarcasm in her eyes as she spoke. Instinctively, I let her go, which she didn’t react to at first. I took a few seconds to look at her arms, slightly red from the squeeze they had gone through moments ago. It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that going any further wasn’t going to be healthy. By the time I had returned to her face, it had been replaced with a scowl, one that came from a deep irritation more than hatred.

“I need to be closer. As close as possible.”

“What?”

My response, although lame, was all I could muster up. Her voice had become a little deeper compared to the slightly squeaky, energetic voice that was normally there. It sent shivers down his spine for reasons he couldn’t explain, although the cold glare in her eyes were definitely a factor.

“Validate me. Make it so I’m not invisible. Show me that I’m alive.”

I was baffled, to say the least. The girl that I had known for that many years had suddenly shifted in a way I could have never even dreamed of as she pressed her arms against my chest. The situation suddenly dawned on me; if she was willing to grab a kitchen knife or smash my head into a wall, I could very well be a murder victim. She seemed to see the confusion in my eyes and groaned, her voice seemingly being stuck in the deeper tone.

“It’s my turn to use you now. Now, hold me tighter. I need to get closer.”