the illicit

That French way that he sits, with his legs crossed slightly and his arm bent at the elbow while he smokes his cigarette. Mayfair Smooth after the Marlborough became too expensive. A subtle smile plays across his lips, which I know means that he is about to come out with a one liner that will have the group in hysterics.

It happened backwards with us; he became my lover the day I met him, now, months on, we are friends. Sometimes, when our eyes connect, for a fleeting second I detect a lingering affection in his gaze. I hope it’s not so obvious in my own.
We used to sit in his bedroom and listen to Morrissey together, knowing all of the words and singing so loudly it’s obscene. It would be me on the bed with my Welsh novel; him bent over his laptop editing photos, the pair of us singing. Red wine in teacups, brie straight from the wrapper, kisses that tasted like cigarettes and glittered with illicit guilt. We would lie in bed until one pm, and he would photograph me naked, fresh from the shower. I recall the image of him, leaning on the doorframe with his Cannon dangling from his neck and his hair all messy, soft like a kitten.

I would leave his flat, descending the stairs with my head down to soften the blow of the real world, running for the train to work in my black and white waitress uniform. My eyes glisten with tears and the traffic growls at me. Trapped inside the carriage with the commuters and banality, I think about my boyfriend, an actor; but he never can tell when I lie to him. He’s a different boy altogether to the one I just left, lacking the cynicism or the wit that softens the harshness of life.

Now it’s all sitting in bars, drinking Corona, drinking Jim Beam, laughing and laughing. Separate stories of our separate love lives, neither of us ever quite content. Ill go home tonight and listen to Pete Doherty, he will go home and fuck his girlfriend.

There is a tear at the elbow of his checked shirt, and his hair is dyed the colour of toffee apples or rust. I catch his eye. No one else makes me so happy to be myself.