Desperate

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twenty two

Midnight was fast approaching, but I had come to a conclusion.

I would rather be sitting here with Shreyas than anywhere else.

/ /

About ten minutes later, we pull up to a red light and Shreyas begins to reach for something under his seat. I was starting to get a bit scared.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" I asked as he pulled out a red and blue striped tie.

"I'm going to strangle you," he said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "Just put it on."

"Why?" He laughed when he saw the fear on my face.

"So that our destination stays secret." When he saw the face I was giving him, he sighed. "Just put it on, Scar."

My breath hitched when he called me Scar. "If you murder me, I'll kill you," I snapped as I began to carefully wrap the tie around my eyes.

"How will you kill me if you're already dead?"

"I'll find a way, go all Diabolique on your ass."

He laughed, and we pulled to a stop.

"Oh my gosh, finally," I groaned. He opened the door to his car and helped me out.

"Can I take this off now?" I asked, still blind from the world.

"Yeah, sure."

I struggled for a while trying to untie the makeshift blindfold. It was not coming off.

"I need help," I said pitifully from next to Shreyas.

"Nope," he chuckled. "C'mon, this way."

He softly guided me in an indistinguishable direction. I could feel every movement of his fingers against my arm, I could hear every breath he took, and I every once in a while, when the wind would blow in the right direction, I could smell the all too familiar smell of Shreyas. This was something you couldn't bottle and sell, or even describe. His scent was unique that even the most beautifully crafted perfume or cologne could even come close to its luxury. After we had sex in sophomore year, I would wake up sometime in the middle of the night and swear I smelled him. I would bury my face in the sheets and cry until my mother found me in the same place the next morning, surrounded in sheets damp with tears.

It took years to get over him, though now I was beginning to doubt whether or not I actually did. Every time he touched me, yes my heart fluttered and my breath hitched but I still wasn't quite sure if it was out of passion or panic.


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