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Snippets of a lost tale: Adjourn, unfinished

It could be that if I had said no, my life would move on free from the cachinnations of random fury, but what seemed like a hopeless evening turned hopeful on the spot when the man on the other line asked her what I wanted to drink.

Cocktails just are not my thing. They have never stirred a salivating thirst in me, but free is free and fireworks displays were promised upon purchase. So me and Andrea said yes. Was I happy that I stayed with them both? Hard to say. The Sunday roast we had dined a few moments ago had quickly digested, and then I was hungering for something else.

I had zero expectations going in, only glad that I had found good pep. But good pep adds nothing to the occasion. I am unlike Mauritius over here, who appeared more predatory than a direwolf the first time I saw him emerge from the shadows in a separate hostel in Russell Square. It is my only deep regret of finding him again by coincidence staying here in Lord Southampton. It is really not in my best interest to stay near him for as long as we have been. He had been terrorising this French girl one night with his fiendish charm and slender pose, she had opened up to me. The same day they met they went out and had a short stroll, and not too long after that that he had already been begging her intently for a kiss, not taking no for an answer. She did not seem staggered or disturbed by the conversation, however, but she made herself clear not to accommodate him. She smiled at me constantly, and then she told me she had a girlfriend.

You're lesbian? I blurted. You're too beautiful to be homosexual. Fuck me, sometimes I want to give myself a hard smack to the head. But I had done that also because she was in fact not difficult to the eyes. Was I smitten by her? Perhaps not, but I would not say no if she would ask me to speak the most romantic sentence I know from my language while my face was sandwiched in between her naked legs.

I am a hypocrite, hah. What most intrigued me about her experience was how Mauritius kept insisting for a kiss when he knew she was bent like a curve. This guy is persistent, I thought.

Andrea had almost the exact same experience. I had told her about the French lady's experience, who had already left some time ago to go back home to France.

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