midnight mirage

I gasped. The distinctly familiar scent of cum and sweat permeates the room like a bookmark wedged between pages of the space, highlighting the obvious remnants of what has just transpired. The singular lamp illuminating the sala seems to cast its light upon the soiled leather couch that buttresses the windows, as if gesturing to the exact spot where it had happened.

The sight of a half-naked male emerging from the shower came as no surprise. His hair was moist, while his torso glistened from his hurried bath. I paused to survey him. He is a stranger.

“Good evening po,” this man-boy said. “Good morning,” I replied.

Our landlord alighted the stairs that leads to his second floor bedroom, canvassing the scene to assess who has just arrived. He looked at me from the shadows that cloak that vestibule between the stairs and the shower. His eyes were pleading, seeking validation and understanding. I smiled, gave a subtle nod, one only he would’ve caught.

“Sige kuya, matutulog na po ako,” I muttered. “Sige,” he answered as his footsteps quickly pry the path towards the sala, towellete in tow.

As I closed the door of the room, all that was left were the creaking sounds of the stair’s steps giving way to their combined weights. It trailed off into the distance, like a midnight mirage, as the two went up the stairs, feet still dripping from the shower’s bounty. The sound of skin on wood was faint and foreboding.

Original image from here.