The second time, she called for Leviathan. She was shaking and unsure if he will really be there. Have you ever experienced that? Like messaging somebody out of the blue, asking them to come over just because? And then you feel like you are so uncertain if they will, even if deep inside you are sure? Oh well…
Leviathan arrived late and by the looks of it, he just got out of the shower. He was as if summoned abruptly. People haven’t arrived yet and she cannot stop herself from hugging him. And when everything is done he held her hand tightly. She said, “me bottle only.”
They order Mule, the one drink she could have gulped in one go but decided not to, for the sake of enjoying the moment. They talked about a lot of things. Leviathan advises her to be mean occasionally, to be so mean they would be sorry for slacking off. She liked how it was put into words, the way it was said, and she liked how Leviathan looked at her. But as far as everyone knows, she has a weakness for eye-to-eye contact. An hour or so have passed and Leviathan ordered three more Mule and she was hesitant at first. But of course, the devil’s offer is thrilling enough for her not to accept. At the second bottle, she felt her cheeks a bit warm and she was now tipsy. Afraid of her own mouth, she tries hard to think about what she will say though the memory of the conversation was hazy and dreary and dragged her to her feet.
They walked down the streets under the rain, her hand clutched into his arm and she felt her cheeks go warmer. The thought of walking on the streets on a cold rainy-almost-midnight moment thrills her that she does not want it to end. ‘If only the streets were longer…’ she thought.
Waiting for a cab, she wrapped her clumsy hands around his waist. The devil kissed her good night and she smiled.