My Roommate Has Black Eyes

I was in a room, my room, but it looked different. There were two beds pushed together instead of my one. In it, we’re also two extra people.

A man and a woman.

Chocolate and caramel,

Beautiful.

In the space beyond the bed, I was packing to leave. In my mind, I’m going to the gym, but the amount of clothes that I was packing didn’t suggest that. I had multiple bags everywhere. I couldn’t tell if I was coming or going. Some clothes are hung up, but many were neatly folded in the several bags that were scattered all over the floor. I searched through them, pulling the clothes I needed, then closing them back.

The both of them ignoring me,

or so I thought.

A fraternity of men suddenly appeared, strolling through the hallway, but they were unrecognizable to me.

Their colors, reflecting in their clothes: A black colored zip up sweatsuit with dark green sleeves.

Their cadence, how their voices reflected anyone who heard them.

Their movements, more feminine, yet still very masculine.

…They’re gay.

I watched them as they passed through hall and audibly spoke.

“What?”

It was one word that I didn’t mean to say, but it fell out.

Confusion. Realizing that everything is more than expected. A glimpse of lucidity, but I remained.

I heard the sound of laughter behind me. As if I said the funniest thing ever. It was the woman. I didn’t even know she heard me or even saw what I saw. From where they lay, they were too far away from the door to see.

Until they weren’t.

They shifted: first, both at the head of the bed; now, separated. The woman is at the foot, lying on her side with her face propped with one hand, her other hand touching her bottom lip, watching me. She lies parallel to the man in the middle of the bed, smiling at his phone.

I went back to packing my things. There were so many bags. I eventually closed everything and went to get something from the closet. I’m still being watched like a hawk. She isn’t moving or saying anything.

I turn around and almost knock something over. An ironing board has appeared out of nowhere. I catch it, but somehow end up on the floor, leveling with her. She isn’t moving, witnessing all of this. The man is still on his phone.

I looked up from the floor and met her gaze, our faces aligned. Staring directly into her eyes, I saw something I’d never seen before in another person.

Black eyes.

Not the ones that appear after violence. But the ones that appear when a person is on drugs, or maybe possessed. Obsessed?

…In love? Afraid?

She didn’t hide it from me. I was meant to see it.

I moved closer to her and said something that also fell out without much warning.

“The eyes never lie.”

She continued to stare, but moved subtly at my words. Looking at me fully while the darkness is unashamed.

Darker.

Darker.

I saw her thoughts and memories.

How she’d move closer and closer in public, stared more and more. Observing me without thought or warning.

She wanted to touch me, but couldn’t.

She wanted me alone, but not without others. Because I scared her.

I saw that she didn’t want our first touch to be a tap on the shoulder, or a holding of hands, or a grip of the waist.

But a kiss on the lips.

My heart skipped a beat, but I remained. A frightening secret.

I wasn’t supposed to know.

The man spoke to her. I wasn’t sure of what he said, but it broke her trance-like state with a blink, normalizing her eyes.

She asked me about a boyfriend, appearing innocent. And I said something that, from the looks of it, neither of them expected.

“Who said I dated men?”

She was speechless, while the man frowned slightly. I wasn’t supposed to see his disappointment. It disappeared as quickly as it came.

He didn’t stand a chance.

Neither did she.

I gathered the bag I packed and walked out of the room, while she began staring at me, again.