One night stand

"Did something happen between you and Mark last Saturday night?"

I was not surprised that Neil raised that question as we walked out of the deserted mall. The moment he invited me for a quick trip to shoe salons this afternoon, I knew. Perhaps, I was that intuitive.

Or perhaps, Mark and I were a little too obvious that night.

A simple "yes" was my polite answer. I never considered denying---I was more interested in seeing someone having the courage to ask.

I studied Neil's face as the sound of cars drowned in silence. I delved into those brown, brotherly eyes, looking for a streak of judgment wanting to rage out. I probed between the fine lines on his forehead, watching out for possible contempt, kept at bay, the years of friendship we shared drawing the possibly thinning line.

Yet somehow, the thumping on my chest didn't come. I remained calm and silent, as equally imperturbable as the silence surrounding us, the squelching of cars dissipating alongside the senseless sidestreet chatters: impassible, inconsequential, unimportant---

"Well," he said, "I knew you can take care of yourself better than I do."

His intentions behind window shopping were finally unveiled. Not that I did not suspect---Neil had a "stint" with Mark. Thinking about it, it started so similarly that Mark could have been doing it so regularly: a Saturday night of intoxication, a lustful embrace from behind, and locking you up in a dark room when almost everyone is too drunk to mind.

And I knew, my hindsight knew, but I consciously let alcohol take over consciousness itself, my body equally in need of meeting worldly pleasures as his, Mark's tool pushing deep inside me as we burned in flames, as our tongues fought for ultimate domination...

I came back to my senses and addressed Neil. "Are you mad?"

"No," he chuckled.

"But did you fall?"

His gaze locked with mine. "Yes," he murmured. "But as I said, I know you can take care of yourself better than I do. You don't make the same mistakes I do."

"I'd like to know what you think. What does this make me?"

"Nothing that should bother you," he assured. "As I said, you know how to take care of yourself. You always know what you get yourself into."

It has only been 15 minutes, but it was time to go back to work.

"Well, thank you," he said.

"Thank you as well," I replied. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yes, maybe."

He then joined the group of people crossing the street, still vividly recognizable as he disappeared in the chattering crowd.