She uncoils over the sand, letting her hip and elbow sink down with a noise of contentment that isn’t quite aloud.
“They’re watching you”, he says, amusement plastered on top of his irritation.
“Good. I’ll be happy to eat up their feelings, and spit out dragonflies”. She laughs and shifts and the sun gleams off her thighs. “Bejeweled dragonflies that won’t fail to delight.”
He sees that she can see them, tiny bodies hovering around her head and shoulders. Her hand rotates lazily and it seems like one has landed on her smallest finger.
The gesture resembles a wave. He realizes that across the beach the others must be redoubling their pace toward his place with her.
“Won’t it be a pain to fend them off? You said you wanted to relax.”
She simply smiles, in a way that lets him know she is making dragonflies from him too.
The first time he took her home she began peeling herself out of her clothes before he had relocked the door. He was still drunk and couldn’t really believe it was happening, and he let out an exclamation. Woah? Jeez? Already? Something like that.
She looked over her shoulder in surprise, fixing him with an eye that said, “Why are you stopping me from itching my heel?” Or something equally simple.
“What? I’ve lived a whole day in these clothes. I’m too hot and too sticky and too everything.” She stepped out of her pants and walked unerringly to his bathroom.
She was also drunk and he thought that might be the reason behind her behaviour, and on that first night they didn’t sleep together even though their backs and legs touched. She made funny noises in her dreams and when she woke she stretched so many times against his sheets that she might as well have been a cat.
The way she shed her clothes turned out to be the most delicious and the most frustrating thing about her. He had trouble because it had nothing to do with whether she was in the mood. Too warm, too wet, too tired, too happy, too hungry, uncomfortable – she discarded everything as soon as she was inside. She did this regardless of the time of day, at busy moments and lazy ones, when she was in a good mood and when she was not.
She shed her clothes in exactly the same way when they last came through the door, and she told him that they should talk. He never saw her again and that was how he learned that her habit had nothing to do with whether she loved him, either.
Dreams after beer pong proved interesting.