Tonight

 'I should write about tonight', my voice a hushed tone but you hear me. You chuckle and pull me closer.

'Tunapenda watu kama nyinyi', the ticket agent addresses the couple sitting on each other to save seats for the rest, it's late. A middle aged woman in the back scoffs. Honestly, it wasn't even about the seats lol. 

I lean in closer, your breath mixing with mine, eyes closed, exhaustion kicking in or maybe just the alcohol, none of it really matters. I sigh. You hold my hand and whisper, 'I got you, we'll be there in the next twenty'. I smile thinking I must look ridiculous or cute having you carry me all the way.

I had painted a picture of you in my mind, the second, third or fourth time we had crossed paths. Just not this, nothing close to this. I had missed the details, probably didn't have the ink to capture you walking across the streets of Nairobi holding a girl's hand in the middle of the night, this girl. Nor could I capture the emotion at that time, the easy laughs or the moments we stopped to see if the words reflected in the eyes, a connection so telepathic it reminded me of a version of me I thought long dead. The lover, the writer. 

We get home, she meets us by the door, the cat you had mentioned earlier. 

'I don't like pets', I'd said but for some reason I like her or maybe I like you enough to like what you love.

 'She is heavily pregnant', you say, I observe. 

My shoes off, I'm conscious about my incomplete nail polish, 'I got tired halfway', I want to explain but you don't seem to mind so I brush it off.

'Blunts?', No better way to end a day. We get stoned on the couch, my head on your lap, a late 90's playlist on the background. There's art all around the wall, I love art. I love the hanging plant. Then I fall asleep. 

Half conscious, you show me to my room, your room. 

'I'll be in the next room', you say. I smile thinking to myself, he listened. 

You take a step closer, I ask you not to but I close the distance. 'Goodnight Shiey', you whisper and let go. 

'I had fun', I say and close the door behind me. I unconsciously touch my lips, the softness of yours still lingering. Your footsteps fade, 'I hope he doesn't mind that I sleep with lights on', I say to the empty room and slip into bed.