In The Midnight Of His Heart
By AL BRUNO III
May 21, 1993
“Did you fall in or something?”
Eric sniffled slightly, “Very funny.”
Lying in the bed- their bed now- her red hair tousled and one of her bare legs trailing out from beneath the sheet, Angie stretched too excited to relax. Her body was still tingly in the aftermath of their lovemaking. After almost five years of lovers with styles that vacillated from tentative to selfish she had finally found a man who was both passionate and considerate. She grinned devilishly, thinking to herself that if she had known things were going to be like this she would have taken on a male roommate sooner.
“Honey...” she called.
The bathroom door was closed, she could hear the water running, “Yes?”
“I'm getting lonely here.”
“Just having a little trouble here.”
She giggled, “Condom snagged in your pubies?”
Not that this inter-roommate romance had been a planned thing, at least not on her part. She had agreed to let legal clerk Eric Bolland be her latest roommate after her previous one skipped out. She'd known Eric from their high school days and while they had never been close friends they had always seemed to run into each other at least once every few months or so. Five weeks ago was one of those times. They'd met at a Laundromat and in the course of catching up she discovered that he was looking for a new apartment. By the time their whites were dried, Angie had a new roommate.
Lucifer made his way into the room. He was a fat gray Persian cat and he very nearly waddled when he walked. Angie made kissy-noises at him and he bounded up onto the bed, meowing plaintively. She scratched under his chin, that always got a purr.
When he’d tired of her attentions and began sniffing about; he found the wet spot in the center of mattress to be of great interest. Angie tried to shoo him away from it but he just kept coming back, eventually she simply covered the area with a blanket. Lucifer shot her a wounded glance before vaulting from the bed to the dresser. She wondered if he understood what had just gone on between her and Eric. Probably not, after all she'd had him fixed years ago. Besides, the poor thing had a brain the size of a Chicklet.
The first few weeks of her new living arrangements with Eric had been platonic enough. It wasn't that she didn't find him attractive, but she was determined not to see him that way. Also she'd always had the sneaking suspicion that he was gay. But as the month rolled on she began to become aware of the desire in his gaze whenever he looked at her. It was subtle, yet affecting, like the warmth of a sunbeam. No other man had ever looked at her quite like that, they either had pure lust in their eyes or simple disinterest. Angie began to notice him as well, he was very good looking in a conservative sort of way. He exercised regularly and it showed.
Their fledgling relationship began to evolve, moving from friendship to flirtation. It was a veritable arms race of double entendres and Angie gave as good as she got. Slowly they each began to up the ante; he started walking around without a shirt on, she kept 'forgetting' to close her door when she was changing.
Three days ago it all came to a head. Eric took her out for her birthday to her favorite restaurant. It was a posh place and he’d worn his good slacks, white shirt and a tie; she’d worn something black and slinky that was somewhere between being a dress and a solicitation. Over wine they both realized how the evening was going to end. One kiss on the taxi ride home led to another. They threw money at the cabby, not bothering to wait for change and practically ran for their apartment. The door locked behind them they pulled each other's clothes out of the way and made love on the rug.
Angie shivered at the memory.
The sound of running water stopped but the bathroom door stayed closed. That man spent more time in the bathroom than she did! A mischievous thought entered in her mind. She grabbed the squirt gun from her nightstand drawer- she used it to discipline Lucifer. A few liberal sprays from it where all she needed to discourage the cat from ruining her furniture, for a while anyway.
She got out of bed and tiptoed out into the hall. Her finger tightened on the trigger and she threw the bathroom door open planning on spraying her lover down as he sat helpless on the john.
As she expected she found Eric sitting on the toilet but his boxers were up. He had his head tipped back, a bloody wad of toilet paper clamped to his nose. “Oh babe.” she said, the squirt gun slipping from her hand.
“I'm Ok.” he said, “Just go back to bed.”
“Let me see.” she insisted, pulling his hand away. She tossed the bloody clump of toilet tissue in the trash and examined his nose. Blood stained her fingers.
“It's ok, it happens all the time.”
“Why?” she pulled fresh wads of toilet paper from the roll and ran them under the faucet. She turned her attention back to him and then looked back to the sink, there was a small vial on the soap dish.
She opened the vial, there was a little spoon in the handle, and the little spoon was full of white powder.