The Rings Around Your Neck

Chapter 3: The rings around your neck.

We walk into her apartment, it was fairly large, no animals. It was modern, only the newest fixtures, all her furniture was black, red, or white. The back wall was just glass, and sliding doors that lead to a balcony. I could tell the bedroom was behind the only closed door.

“What’s for dinner?” I ask standing at the door, fascinated by the chandelier, it was obviously the oldest thing in the room. It was steal, with candles holders that held fake candles but I’m guessing they once held real ones.

“I don’t have much but I have cheese and wine, is that enough?” she asked pulling out a $500 bottle of red wine from the black kitchen cabinets.

“Yes that perfect, may I see?” I stepped into the open kitchen as she handed me the bottle by its base. I held it with calm slightly open hands. I read the label that said it had been aging for 86 years and my eyes widened a bit. “Do you always pay this much for wine?”

“With my job I could buy any wine I want, I like this one, so I buy it.” She said going to her cabinet and pulled out two crisp wine glasses. “It’s a good thing you’re here; I can never use that damn cork screw that well.” She smiled as she handed me the cork screw.

“What do you do for a living?” I asked leaning in as I punched in the corkscrew in the wine’s cork. “If you don’t mind me asking.” I say with a slight grunt, pulling on the cork.

“I’m in a-” she was cut off by me pooping of the cork and pouring some wine on my shirt. “Oh let me wash that.” She said taking the bottle from me and swiftly and unbuttoning my shirt.

“I’m sorry I just keep getting lost in your eyes.” I said, which I must admit, sounded like a bad pick-up-line but it was true. Her gaze had me hooked. It almost like the mixture of yellow and purple were swirling around and changing.

“Oh don’t worry about it.” She looked back to my buttons and saw that I had no undershirt, she glanced up at with a look that asked ‘Didn’t anyone tell you you’re supposed to wear an undershirt’.

“I don’t wear one, the shirt is soft and thick enough that I don’t have to.” I explained. She just smiled at me. “So your job?” I said taking off my shirt and half-heartedly folded it over my arm and gave it to her.

She took it over to her washing machine, which was in a closet along the front wall, and set it for a long wash. “I work in a cut throat business, it’s hard to get into to, and hard to get out of.” She said mimicking someone getting their throat cut with her thumb.

“Stocks?” I asked pouring her and myself a glass.

“No, it’s just a big company; my father owns, so I started young.” She smiled and took a sip of wine, her red lip stick left a clear lip print on the glass. “What about you? Where do you work?”

“Oh, I’m a French to English translator. I work at schools and for the government if needed.” I smiled and leaned on her counter. “It pays fairly well.”

“I can infer.” She moved a bit closer to me as we both leaned our backs on the counter, her hip leaning ever so lightly on mine. “Ever been married?”

My smile was stolen from my face, “Yes, I was. She passed away, cancer. Her name was Stella; she was my highschool sweetheart. She passed away after 2 years of being married, we never had kids.” I gave a grim smile. “That was 10 years ago. I wear her wedding ring and mine on this necklace. If you were wondering.”

“Oh, I uh, Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad.” She said looking straight into my eyes. “H-Have you dated since then?” She asked me, I could tell she wanted to ask so many questions but didn’t want to open up an old scar.

“Honestly, if this counts as a date then this would be the first in ten years.” I smiled at her “Is it a date?”

“I like to think that.”

I leaned in, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I wanted to kiss her; I wanted to kiss this stranger. But I’m not an a*s, I leaned in slowly, taking her wine glass and setting mine down with it. I laced my hands in hers; I put my free hand on the small of her back and leaned in, giving her the chance to see what was happening and stop it if she wanted to. I kissed her softly; I was trying my best to be romantic. Then the most amazing thing happened, she kissed back.

Author's Note

notes are helpful! thanks for reading!