Date: Thu, 6 Mar 2003 13:52:33 -0800 (PST) From: Cillian Mayfair Subject: Magnus part 2 If you're offended by sexual activities between men, or if you're younger than 18, you're not supposed to be here. The author reserves all rights. Individual copies of this story may be downloaded for personal use, but may not be reproduced without the author's express consent. The next night, he arrived at my apartment sometime between 11 PM and midnight, letting himself in with the spare key he had insisted upon being provided with after what he called the "chilling frat-house episode." He walked noiselessly into the darkened room where I was already in bed. It was the breeze created by his movement more than any sound he made that caused me to turn my head upwards and see him standing there, looking down at me. I'm quite certain he never saw the smile that slowly seized my face; I like to think that he smiled back. Neither of us said anything. I watched him pull his shirt over his head with a single act of assured, serene elegance that nonetheless unsettled his hair enough to impart a feral gleam to his silhouette. Semi-attired thus in sweatpants, he descended onto the bed and lay with his head on my shoulder, draping an arm lazily over me. There was nothing sexual, still, to the joy I felt at having him so close but I wondered what then it was that elated me so. Having been refused an answer by both heart and mind, I suspended the search and just enjoyed the sensation. Sleep claimed me soon afterwards. Hence began our shared nocturnal tradition. We didn't share a bed every night of course, but the unspoken invitation always remained, and was often accepted. I stopped thinking about the "Why?" of the matter and just accepted it as one of my favorite occurrences. Once, at a liquor store, I saw a bottle of "Southern Comfort" and could not contain the laughter that erupted uninvited from within me. The employees refused to let me purchase anything, telling me they thought I must already be inebriated enough, much to the disappointment of the sophomore friends I was with. The days went by, as they have a tendency to and our class schedules made it increasingly inconvenient for us to see each other during the day. Long hours of studying for exams took their toll on our nights together till we barely met during the week. Those weekend nights became all the more precious. Instead of merely lying beside me, he would wrap both his arms around me, and sometimes kiss the back of my neck as he gently whispered, "goodnight." As finals drew closer however, we had to sacrifice even the few nights we had to long vigils at the library. I was the first one to be done with exams, and my parents sent me a plane-ticket, tucked within a printed invitation to their twenty-third wedding anniversary. I tried to call Magnus before leaving, but his still waxing exam activities prevented me from getting through to him. I threw the phone against the wall more than once in dire frustration but forced myself to break the habit since I did not want to be without a phone incase he called me. But I appeared to have fallen out of favor with fate. I left without being able to see him. I left without saying goodbye. I met Bianca therefore, at the beginning of spring break as I was headed home to New York. I had always felt it slightly unfair that spring break had to be surrendered so as to sit around with a group of utterly incomprehensible, semi-euro-trash, pseudo-intellectuals who usually had nothing better to talk about than the supposed cultural significance of the newest meatpacking district nightclub or the continuing triumphs of Ungaro Couture. We met at LaGuardia as she was struggling to get her overstuffed suitcase off the conveyor belt. Seeing as how she wasn't doing too well, I offered to help and she accepted with a grateful smile. While wrestling with her luggage, I noticed it had a University of Chicago ID tag and thus, having discovered common ground, we started talking. I learnt she was a junior as well who had just transferred in from Cornell. She lived in Seattle and had planned a trip to New York with one of her friends from college who had at the last moment dropped out owing to a domineering boyfriend. She had decided to go on her own. She was apparently of Italian descent and truly one of the prettiest girls I had ever seen. Her dark hair cascaded down in hypnotic waves, framing a perfectly flawless face with jeweled eyes of deep viridian, which contrasted beautifully with vermilion lips and the color in her cheeks. She wore a simple, white cotton dress that gave her an indescribable earthiness, as if she were an ancient pagan goddess hoping to travel incognito through her realm. I felt immediately comfortable around her and we spoke as if we had been friend all our lives. Since she was alone in the city, I offered her the spare room at my parents' place but she politely declined. She did however take me up on my invitation to show her around the city in a way only a native can. We made plans to meet the next day for brunch and go from there. My parents' anniversary was as mindless an affair as I had feared. The usual old guard of republicans had grotesquely congregated once more and then proceeded to get drunk off Romanian plum brandy at an alarming speed. I stayed only long enough to help my father pass out properly on his bed while my mother (who is quite intelligent. sometimes) made the customary excuses about how tired he had been and how he overworked himself etcetera. I left to meet up with some old friends from the city and together we passed a quiet, peaceful night at a lounge downtown. The next day, I awoke late and realized that I would have to be quick indeed if I wanted to make brunch. I managed to get there on time, but Bianca was nowhere to be found. A half hour later I started to think she would not come, for why would anyone accept an invitation from some random guy at an airport. I felt devastated and rather foolish. I had really liked her and didn't think I was completely mistaken in thinking that she did not find me repulsive either. I was about to leave when I saw her. The wind mercilessly teased her hair as she ran towards me. She had an exhilarated smile of exhaustion on her face and was quite out of breath. I couldn't help standing there just looking at her as she made her way to my table. She couldn't speak for a couple of minutes but laughed uncontrollably as soon as she could and explained that she had become lost in the cavernous maze that is the New York subway system. It was the perfect moment. I realized then that I completely and hopelessly mesmerized by her. We had a great day. She gazed with rapt wonderment at all I showed her of the city. By the end of the day, she had fallen in love with New York and I with her. We talked about our lives and families and the randomness of our meeting. She spoke of her friends at college of whom I knew a few. I spoke of Magnus, and as I did, a dark cloud seemed to settle over her clear eyes. But it was gone in an instant and I thought that perhaps I had imagined it. My mother, by means of the intrusive cell phone she insists I carry reminded me to come home for dinner instead of eating out, and since I did not want my time with Bianca to come to an end so quickly, I invited her to join us. She hesitated, but eventually accepted. As soon as we entered the dining room, she underwent a transformation and I saw that she was quite capable of playing the formidable temptress. She had my parents eating out of her hands within minutes. She had all the right answers, but more importantly, she asked all the right questions. Towards the end of the evening, hearing our plan to take a cab down to her hotel, my father handed me the keys to his S600 so that I may drop her off. Before she left, she turned one last time and smiled at my parents while thanking them for a wonderful time. The look on their faces made it clear to me that they too were bewitched. In my mother's eyes I could already see the images of my blue eyes and Bianca's wavy hair adorning one of her future grandchildren. The drive to her hotel consisted of a long, comfortable silence as an extended version of Wicked Game played on. Just before she got out of the car, she turned towards me and brushed the hair away from my forehead. We both slowly leaned in, our eyes locked and immobile till they closed as our lips met for the first time. It was a gentle kiss that lasted an eternity in my mind and yet was over all to quickly. Then she smiled, and got out of the car without saying a word. The warm spring breeze caught her long red dress accentuating the curves on the other side of her body, and thus caressed by the wind, her hair a dark, beckoning flame, she headed into her hotel without looking back. The rest of the week passed in an ethereal haze. Bianca soon outranked me in my own house and my mother made it abundantly clear to me that her disappointment if Bianca failed to stay for some time over summer, would be abundant, and all my doing. None of this mattered of course, because nothing much besides her mattered at that point anyway. Far too quickly however, it was time for us to leave. I had within the past few days, rediscovered a love for this, the city I had grown up in, which I had not felt since early childhood when the sight of colossal towers stretching skywards had filled me with a sense of wonder. I was sorry to leave, but the thought that she would be accompanying me ameliorated my distress. And there was always Magnus, I abruptly remembered. I had not thought of him for quite some time, but it all came back to me in an instant. Suddenly, I could not wait to go back. My first day back at college was thankfully devoid of intense classes. Done with Film Theory at noon, I walked slowly across the still dreary quadrangles to the Reynolds Club. I had tried in vain to get a hold of Magnus and the failure was an obstreperous weight upon my mind. As I entered the massive but filled to capacity hall of Hutchinson Commons I saw a vast collection of familiar faces. Standing there, trying to decide whom to sit with, I heard someone shout out my name. I tried to locate the source of the noise and towards the very back, saw Magnus watching me with a delighted expression. I felt my own face light up as he started walking towards me, slowly navigating his way through an organic sea of bodies in random motion. I was about to start walking towards him when I saw his smile fade and his progress in my direction halt. I felt a hand encase my own, and as I turned I found myself confronted by resplendent eyes of regal green that grew closer as Bianca leaned in for a kiss. For a moment I felt an enigmatic pang of guilt, but that thought eradicated itself as soon as our lips met. I felt a surge of happiness course through me and I forgot everything except the feel of her lips. When I finally looked up I saw Magnus start towards me once again. This time however, he was not smiling.