Tuesday, June 23, 2009

The begining

Apologies, the story below has been completely rewritten from the earlier, dreadful version, the rest of the story will follow at a later post.

Plainly put, she was a blond beauty. It would be impossible to describe her adequately without eliciting cries of hyperbole. She was his Greek goddess, not that she was Greek, but because she looked liked a statue of Aphrodite come to life. Sophia's beauty was exquisite in a natural way. She was no Hollywood hotty, though it was impossible for her to slip into a room unnoticed. Kyle had barely known her for 24 hours before he understood why Paris had risked the great city of Troy to be with Helen. Sophia was intelligent, witty and aloof, but not in a snobby way. She wore it like a simple cloak; enveloping, concealing and modest. Men and women alike found it impossible to be agnostic towards Sophia.

Kyle would never be described as a Greek God himself. He wasn't especially good looking, though he was far from homely. He didn't have the chiseled body of Greek statuary, he was no Paris. Kyle was quiet and affable in a casual group setting, though intense and demanding on the job. He was often described as an arrogant bastard, but this was tempered by an insidious charisma. He could be charming and warm and often shoved casual acquaintances and co-workers between wanting to befriend him and wishing him harm.

Sophia and Kyle traveling amongst an eclectic group of friends, quite varied in age and personality. The two of them flirted often, but it was casual flirting and did not appear to be leading towards anything. Another member of their group, a dark and attractive young man named Peter, would inadvertently light the fuse of their romance, in what must have been one of the most sadly ironic moments of his life. Pete had an obvious and deep infatuation with Sophia, who bravely rebuffed his efforts while making every attempt to maintain a friendship. It would come to pass one night that Peter, Sophia and Kyle ended up in a dark and deserted bar alone, the rest of the group having retired for the evening.

Now Peter, thinking he was sly, had this idea for how he could finally seal the deal with Sophia. He suggested that they all have a shot of tequila. Shot in hand, he asked Sophia to indulge him for a minute, she assented as he proceeded to salt her wrist and place the lime in her mouth. Peter then lifted Sophia's wrist, swiped the salted area with his tongue, downed the tequila and delicately took the lime from her mouth with his own. What Peter failed to anticipate, to his own demise, was the competitive spirit in his friend Kyle. Kyle gently spun Sophia around and lightly licked her neck, applying salt to the area. Looking into her eyes, he placed the lime to her lips allowing Sophia to hold it with her teeth. His gaze lingered in her eyes just for a second before nibbling the salt from her neck, and gulping the tequila. Pausing for just a second to make eye contact once again, he retrieved the lime....eventually. What happened was much closer to a deep passionate kiss with the addition of a bit of fruit.

In addition to personifying the phrase, 'kiss of lime', this moment irrevocably changed the way Sophia and Kyle classified one another. It would lead to the most intense and passionate relationship either one would ever know. By sundown the following day the two of them had bonded into an inseparable pair, a coupled, but something that seemed like so much more.