Wicked Wednesday #131 — World AIDS Day

Polly swore she saw light when she looked at Oscar in the alley that they stumbled into after karaoke. His light lit the way to their driver, and her head secure on his shoulder as they drove back to their hotel.
It was late and dark, they went to her hotel room and she spun around the room in her qipao as if she had on a flared skirt. Oscar put his hand on her hip, and they danced around the room. When she looked at the moon, she thought to herself what if he wanted to? She had not been expecting anything to happen between them, so she did not have protection. She knew that there was something between them, but now what? Nothing has been said, and she honestly was old-fashioned. But what would he expect? She bought him to her room so late.
He paused to stare at the moon beside her.
Sex was never something she rushed into. Her mother named her after her friend, a flower child who she had pictures of with huge flowers and butterflies painted all over her.
Polly never could imagine that her mother had been friends with that Polly. That her mother had been so free. Because when she was growing up, AIDS new and fresh. People feared getting it, by looking at someone. She remembered sex ed classes, where they said you could not tell if someone had it by looking at them. No matter how healthy they looked.
Oscar looked beautiful to her now. More so than he ever had in the entire time that she knew him. He raised her face to his, the light of the moon eclipsed by his.
“Tell me,”
She blinked repeatedly from the moonlight and the intensity of his gaze.
“Oscar,” she started, and then she was quiet.
“What?” his voice was soft as he caressed her cheek.
“I just don’t want to move so fast? I asked you up here, and I just don’t want to…rush anything…”
Oscar looked at her. She tried not to cry because she was not sure what he was going to say, as he turned to face the moon.
“I did not come up here with expectations. We were both drinking, and I just wanted to make sure you got back here safe…” He caressed her chin and looked at her, his face close enough to kiss. “And for this.”
He kissed her, and the light that she saw when she closed her eyes was a combination of him and the moon.
She wrapped her arms about him and he pulled her closer, ran his fingers along her neck and further down like she was the treasured instrument of a musician. She wondered if he had ever played anything…
He stopped kissing her, and then he laughed.
“What?” she said looking and him and laughing a little, even though she did not know why.
He leaned on the window sill.
“Because I remember not even being able to be in the same room with you.”
“No,” He said putting his finger on her mouth. “I just feel good that we got past all the barriers, because you are so beautiful inside and out.”
He kissed her again, and Polly felt like she had been painted with flowers and butterflies…

More Wicked Wednesday here:


veruschka with butterfly via listal.com


  1. I love this, love the tender words and how you’ve worked such an important subject (prompt) into this, without making your story sound like a lecture. Beautifully done!

    Rebel xox

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