Merlot

The red tears from my wine draped up and down the sides of my glass as I sat at my kitchen table once again, listening to them. I spun the glass around in between my fingers before taking another sip. For the last 2 months, it has been like this. I mean, who fucks every night? The only thing I do every night, is brush my teeth and that’s out of pure habit. I sat back and listened to them, but more importantly- to her. The walls, to my demise were made of pure drywall and the rhythmic tapping of the bedframe and her moans were the new melody of my household. Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with the sound of someone? I’ve never even seen what she looks like but she sounds like my soulmate.

“This wine tastes like shit” I said out loud but the only thing around to hear me was Elvis- my two-year-old cat and he didn’t give me a second glance. He stretched out in the corner, perfectly content. I had never even bought Merlot before, it seemed like an “old lady” wine to me if I’m being perfectly honest. “Bold flavor with hints of tobacco and vanilla with notes of raspberry and plum” is what the bottle said. It tasted like red. Deep, stale red. I should’ve gone with a white. I poured my second glass, 9:02 pm. Right in time for the climax. I pictured her arching her back, her nipples erect and pointing towards the ceiling- her eyes rolled back and her fingernails tracing down his back. I could be that back for her.

My head started spinning, 30 year’s old and two glasses could still make me feel weak. I started to think about my neighbor. I mean, I had been living here for 3 years with no issues, and then this hotcock of a playboy moves in 6 months ago and turns my whole life around? He’s not even that good-looking, I mean what did he have that I didn’t? Besides a penis. He had a whole slew of girls at the beginning, they only hung around for a night or two. But this one, this girl- she was different. It’s like she took hold of him and she is in total control. I mean, it sounded like she was in control. Him, beckoning at her every wish and will. The dark mistress with all the answers. I downed the last sip of my second glass and felt my throat itch. My eyelids were heavy, I plopped down on the couch. Not even enough motivation to walk to the bedroom. The room was a mess anyways. The cool breeze felt nice on my arms, I could just stay here for a little bit.

“Then fuck you! You’re a piece of shit anyways!” The door slammed abruptly, and I woke with a start. My head was still foggy. I looked at my phone, 12:12AM. What is going on? I thought to myself. I heard crying. She was standing right outside my door and she was crying. I saw a cigarette light up. The amber lit the side portrait of her face. Her sharp features shadowed perfectly. Her eyelashes were wet like dew. I heard a dog bark in the distance. She was leaning against the balcony post that connected our two apartments. They much have had a fight, a bad one from the looks of it. I saw her pull out her cellphone. It lit up bright on her face. “Of course, no Ubers. Just my luck. I guess I’ll have to walk.” I heard her say and then let out a sigh. She bent down to take off her heels, skinny and red. The color was deep and reminded me of the wine that was still sitting on my table. My heart started to quicken; my breath tasted cold.

I cleared my throat and walked towards the door. I cracked it open, just enough to see her. “Uhm… hello?” I said. She looked up. My heart stopped.

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you. It’s been a-“ she stopped and looked over at his door, “it’s been a rough night.” She said, “I’m Isla”.

“I heard,” I smiled. “I’m Elle. Do you want to come in while you wait for a ride? I have,” I turned around and grabbed the bottle sill open on my table, “some wine. Do you want a glass?”

“Actually, yea that would be great. Thank you. Sorry I’m such a mess.” Isla said, wiping her eyes. The mascara had started to stain her cheek which reminded me of rain.

She looked beautiful. She stepped inside and took a seat. I started thinking about how I wish I would have actually spent the night cleaning my apartment, instead of listening to her have sex, but there wasn’t much I could do about that now. I went to the kitchen to look for another glass. I found one, dusty in the back on the cupboard. I rinsed it off and brought it to the table. She was sitting there, holding the bottle, reading it over.

“Do you like Merlot?” I asked.

“Uhm, yeah I guess- I’m not much of a wine drinker, myself. Usually, I go for something a little stronger.” Isla said with a smirk.

“Yeah, it’s my first time buying this kind. I guess it was kind of an experiment. I’m trying to step out of my comfort zone,” I said and was instantly aware of how messed up my hair must have looked. It had been pushed up from sleeping on the couch and I ran my fingers through it trying to brush it down. “So- what happened with you and Devon?” I urged to try and start a conversation.

“Oh, he’s such a prick. I don’t even know why I hang out with him.” She said. “I mean, at first he was nice, of course they always are- but he is really not my type.”

“Your type? What do you mean?” I asked.

“Frat boy? Are you kidding me? I barely even like boys as it is. I usually go for something… different.” She said as she sipped her wine. A drop of red stayed a second longer than the rest on the side of her lip. She licked it with her tongue, and I was suddenly very aware of my thighs. My whole body felt hot.

“I’ve seen you around here before.” Isla started, “Devon says you’re studying art at the University?”

“Yeah, portraits mostly, realistic oil paintings.” I responded and looked down.

“Do you have anything I can see?” She asked.

“Most of my stuff is down at the studio, they let me rent out a space a month at a time. I’m eventually hoping to have an exhibition, but I don’t even know if I’m good enough for that.”

“You got accepted based off your art, but you don’t think you’re good enough?”

“Self-loathing artist, isn’t that the best kind?” I asked with a smile. “I don’t know. My teacher last semester said I “play it too safe” and “I don’t know how to step into the dark”. Something about not pushing the boundaries of my mind and making my art more than just a picture. She said I need it to make a statement, portray a whole life story in one still frame. Can you imagine that? A whole range of emotion from one look, two eyes, two lips.” I stopped because I could feel my face getting flushed.

“Step into the dark,” she repeated, “and how might one do that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said.

“I have an idea.” She got up and unbuttoned her coat and hung it on the back of the chair. She was wearing a white button-down shirt with a black lace bralette underneath. She started unbuttoning her shirt. My mouth was dry as I watched her. I couldn’t even remember the last time I took a breath, but I was too scared to move for fear she would stop. “Paint me.” She said matter-of-factly.

I laughed and took another sip of my wine. “I told you, all of my stuff is down at my studio. I don’t even have an easel here.”

“Do you have a pencil and paper?” She asked.

I nodded.

“Then sketch me. Please- it would be really nice to see how someone else sees me for a change. And who better than a beautiful stranger?” Isla stared at me and I stared back.

She sat there with her legs crossed and her Merlot-colored heels tossed by her chair. Her shirt open and her hair pushed over to one side. Her jaw was sharp, and I imagined tracing it with my fingertips. Instead, I traced it on the paper now in front of me. My wine glass delicately placed on the top right corner. She was there, staring at me with an intensity I had never felt before. I remember focusing on the eyes, they were dark and bright at the same time just as the night sky is right before the sun peaks out for the first moment of the day. They were everything I had imagined every night for the last 2 months, everything and more. My pencil traced the page and moved down to her lips. The wine had stained the inner portion of her bottom lip and I thought about sucking on it. My entire body was freezing cold and hot at the same time.

How was this happening? I thought to myself. I saw her breasts move as she breathed, very rhythmically, in and out. Goosebumps covered her chest. She drew her hand across her collarbones. I could not focus. I reached up to grab as a way to distract myself and it fell. The glass knocked over and wine draped over the entire table. She jumped up and the red streams hit her leg. She started laughing.

“I’m so sorry!” I jumped up trying to wipe the wine up with the picture I had been drawing. I didn’t work.

“Don’t even worry.” She smiled, “Hey let me see the picture, don’t ruin it!” She grabbed for the paper. Drips continue to fall onto the floor.

“No wait, it’s not finished…” my heart dropped as she turned the wine-soaked page around and studied it. I stood, frozen in front of her waiting for her approval. Simply- wanting to die in anticipation. She was silent. “I’m sorry if you don’t like it—” I started to say when I felt her push against me. Her lips were soft and I felt her mouth part. My stomach felt as if it were going to rip from my body. She stood there, kissing me. I heard her moan into me and we fell back onto the couch. Her hair draped over me as I pushed my hands up into her shirt and felt down her back. Her skin smelled like roses and she tasted like sugar. I had never wanted anything more in my life. I felt her hips press down into mine. I hoped she would never stop.

My alarm scared the shit out of me when it went off. My eyes felt heavy and my sight was blurry. I was reaching around the floor looking for my phone. It was so loud, why wouldn’t it just stop? It was much too early to have an alarm set on a Sunday. I finally found it and pressed Snooze. I sat up on the edge of the couch. “Isla, you there?” I called, but there was no answer. I was alone except for Elvis who jumped on the couch and rubbed against my arm begging for breakfast. My head was pounding. Did last night even happen? I rubbed my eyes until I felt a little more human and stood up. There is no way that happened, what a fucked-up dream. I thought to myself. That wine must have been stronger than I thought it was.

I walked over to the table and next to the empty bottle was a red-soaked portrait of her. Dry now from the hours of the morning and in the bottom corner was a kiss print. Left by her.

I fucking love Merlot.