The semester had finally ended, and the streets were buzzing with students rushing home for the holidays. I wasn't one of them. I had nowhere to go, no family waiting. And of course, I had to stick around Tadala and Doreen, so I chose to stay behind on the quieting campus with a handful of friends who felt the same.
In the sundown, I went down the streets to check those mates who was also sticking around. It was Mervin from Blantyre who just felt to stay for nothing.
"Yoo, bro, what's up, gee?" Mervin shouted, voice booming as I stepped into their compound.
"Come on, man, your way too loud, are you high or what?" I laughed, and we slapped hands, pulling each other into that rough hug, cracking up until the laughter faded into the evening.
Just after 8 p.m., the rest of the crew rolled in about ten of us in total. The vibes shifted instantly, amped up higher. Minds buzzing from the blunts we passed around, we all lost it in the best way.
That night we threw a party, one of those rare, perfect ones.
Music pounded through open windows, the air thick with the scent of grilled meat and fresh chapati. We danced until our legs ached, laughed until our sides hurt, and washed away months of exams and deadlines. It felt like freedom. Little did I know it would change everything.
I woke up the next morning sprawled across Mervin's couch, head pounding like a drum, mouth dry as dust. The party had raged until the early hours; blunts, bottles, bass thumping through the walls and now the hangover had me in its grip.
Mervin walked me to the gate, still half-laughing at how wasted we'd all gotten. "Easy, bro, watch your step," he teased as I stumbled out, waving him off with a weak grin.
The walk home was slow, a squinting shuffle under the brutal morning sun. Every step jarred my skull, the bright light stabbing my eyes. I kept my head down, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.
As I rounded the corner to my gate, I walked straight into someone
I looked up and froze.
It was Doreen, the Receptionist. She stood there in the soft morning light, beautiful in a way that made the hangover fade for a second. Her smile was warm, effortless, like she carried her own sunlight.
"Sorry," I mumbled, rubbing my neck.
"My fault entirely," she laughed. "I was daydreaming."
We started talking though the party smells were still lingering in the air. But conversation came easy with her. She had this quiet kindness that put me at ease. Before I knew it, I'd invited her in.
We sat on the couch for hours, sharing some popcorn and chapati from last night's leftovers, trading stories for real since we were just having phone calls and chats. She was sharp, funny, gentle. I couldn't look away.
Late afternoon, her phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it and the light in her eyes dimmed.
"Everything okay?" I asked.
"It's fine," she said quickly. "Just… someone from before."
But I saw the flicker of worry she tried to hide. I didn't push. Instead, I moved closer and rested an arm around her shoulders.
"Hey. I'm here. Whatever it is, you don't have to carry it alone."
She turned to me, eyes searching mine. Something shifted in the air between us quiet, electric and undeniable.
I brushed a strand of hair from her face and whispered, "We can take this slow. Love needs time to grow."
But she shook her head, a small, determined smile forming. "Not slow. Not today." She stood, slipped out off her clothes with quiet confidence, and stepped toward me. "I want you. Right now."
Her voice was soft but urgent, her eyes dark with need. Any caution I had melted away.
I pulled her close, kissing her forehead, her neck, trailing lower as she sighed against me. My hands found her skin warm and ready, her breath catching as I touched her. She pressed into me, whispering please! That set my blood on fire.
I lifted her easily and carried her upstairs to the bedroom. She laughed breathlessly against my shoulder; legs wrapped around me.
Clothes gone, nothing between us, she dropped to her knees and took me in her mouth with a hunger that nearly undid me. Then she climbed onto the bed, back arched, inviting. I entered her slowly at first, then deeper, harder, each thrust met with her gasps and the sharp sound of my hand against her skin. She moved with me, confident and wild, until we both shattered, breathless and laughing in the aftermath.
"Round two?" I teased, voice hoarse.
She collapsed beside me, glowing. "I've never… give me a minute," she panted, laughing. "You're dangerous."
Eventually, I pulled her up. "Babe, we have to take a shower, right?"
She raised an eyebrow, playful. "Already calling me pet names and planning showers? Slow down, mister. You haven't even asked me out properly."
We showered together, trading soft touches and easy jokes under the warm water. By the time we came out, it was early evening. I blended fresh grape and orange juice in the kitchen while she watched, wrapped in my towel.
She took a sip, eyes lighting up. "This is good. You've got skills."
I smiled. "Stick around long enough and you'll see more."
She didn't answer but she stayed.
And in that quiet kitchen, with the taste of fresh juice on our lips and laughter still in the air, I felt something settle into place.