The Tourist And The Man With Cold Hands: A Two-Part Erotic-Romance Short Story Series

Part One: The Tourist's Point of View 

I am so tired of roaming around this concrete jungle. It is past 9 pm and my skin feels sticky as if my skin can trap insects that will be attracted to my scent.

I unbuttoned the first two buttons of my white striped long sleeves revealing my hairless chest already red from the heat. This was a result of an entire day of walking around to this new place I stepped my foot into—a place located in the capital. 

I passed through all these establishments with a buzzing sound coming from their neon light signs, it was beautiful like a setting to one of Wong Kar Wai's movies. 

This is how I imagined the urban streets at night—full of lights, full of sounds yet you feel assured because you know the place is alive.

Finally, I am in front of my temporary shelter for tonight. As I hold my huge sling travel bag containing all the things I will be needing for this trip, I started to long for a company. 

I bit my lip remembering one of this hostel's amenities—a bar at the rooftop. Maybe I'd find a company there.

"I wish I could be with someone tonight," I told myself. And there I carefully entered the building and proceeded to invade my temporary room for this night.

After I fixed my things, I decided to maximize my stay in this place when I proceeded to walk to its bar located on the rooftop.

The bar is exposed to the city wind with only metal railings to secure anyone inside. It was full of these dangling lights uniform to the bright lights coming from the windows of nearby buildings around the area. 

I sat at this table near the bar counter and ordered two bottles of beer. 

As I chug my cold intoxicating drink that stands as a reward for my tiring day of taking photos, walking, and observing, my eyes caught this fair, beardless, good-looking man in front of me. He is wearing a beige V-neck tee complimenting his slim and toned figure. 

He is visibly sad. His face is pointed in vast space beyond the metal fences of the bar probably thinking something so deeply. 

I got curious, what was he thinking about? 

A handsome man like him shouldn't be spacing out in a place like this as it gives people the right to observe his tempting face. His red thin lips, wavy charcoal-colored hair, and his defined bone structure were screaming he has a mixture of two or more nationalities in his blood.

He caught me looking at him and started to stare back at me, igniting the flame of my hidden sexuality. 

Those eyes that choose to point at me made my knees shaking. The power of his stares is so intense that it intoxicated me more than this beer in front of me.

I stared back at him followed by a naughty grin. 

I held tight to my glass full of beer, I can feel the sexual tension between us. His gazes are so sharp, so sensual I felt undressed already.

Two bottles of beer turned into four and when I felt the effect of my drink, I stand like a confident warrior ready to tackle this man on another table with an aggressive stare. 

I approached him with a charming smile and asked if he would want to join me at my table. Everybody's looking at us as if they can sense the sensuality of our behavior towards each other.

He accepted my invitation and placed himself in the vacant chair in front of me, at my table.

It was the best night of my entire month, I guess—sitting with this attractive stranger, on top of this cheap hostel, city lights constantly peeking in our visions. 

We laughed and laughed for hours talking about anything under the sun, or in this case, the moon. I'm not sure if it was a result of our beers or we are just funny to each other. Nonetheless, it was heaven, I finally have the company I asked for before I entered this place. 

It was a few minutes before the clock hit 2 am when we decided to walk out of the bar. 

He asked me if he could accompany me to my room which I quickly permitted. 

Standing in front of my earth-colored room door, I asked him if he would want to spend the night with me. 

He did not utter a word as if he lost all his confidence, he just looked at me and followed it with an aggressive kiss. 

There's something about his kiss that is so passionate yet so intense. A kiss that can be interpreted by the receiver of it as either love or lust. 

He started to touch my body, I felt weak, especially when he pushed my skinny body towards him while holding my tiny waist.

He guided me to my undisturbed bed. At that moment I knew that we both don't want to cut the moment, so we both did not bother to take a shower.

We carefully undressed each other revealing almost the same type of body with different levels of masculinity. Oh, with his body so pale, so smooth, and so muscular I couldn't contain myself but subtly sniff it and lick it as I kiss it. His scent reminded me of a time I lay my head on my first love—so calming and so sweet.

The warmth of our bodies on top of each other felt like a bonfire in the middle of a campsite during winter—it was comforting and warm.

I grinned when I realized how he doesn't move as if it was his first time. He was just lying there letting me do all the actions. 

It reflected his smell—childish and innocent.

During our wild sexual interaction, I held his hands and I was in shock to feel it cold. It was so cold as if he was alone in the room, it was so cold as if he has been lonely for so long. 

At that moment I did not let go of his hands. I held it to remind him that he is with me even for tonight. 

He started taking the lead after half an hour of foreplay. He pressed my fair and slim body against the mattress and started pounding me like a mad man. 

All those aggressive stares earlier turned into the hard pounding of my flesh and tight grips on my neck. 

I couldn't remember the last time I let my carnal take over me, but tonight with this man that exudes godly physique, it is an exemption.

I wholeheartedly let him take over me—my body, my heart, my mind, and my soul. 

After we satisfied the sexual needs of each other, he insisted on going back to his room and started dressing up. Honestly, I felt sad to see him go. His body language, the coldness of his hands, and his entirety scream loneliness and sadness. 

Before he goes, I asked him one last time if he wants to stay the night, but he refused and carefully closed the door without even looking at me. 

I stand to walk into my room's window blessed with the view of the city lights and a sparkling night sky. I turned around and felt an enormous feeling of sadness when I saw the now disturbed room. The bed sheets, blankets, and pillows are now wrinkled. The garbage bin beside my bed has now tissues wet with our seeds. All are indications that someone has been in the room with me, all are reminders of the man's presence earlier.

At that moment, alone in my temporary bed, I felt the coldness of the room. I felt lonely. I was reminded that I have no one on this trip but myself. Naked underneath this white blanket I started touching myself as I puff my cigarette. 

I don't miss the stranger, I choose not to miss his presence. I will never be that selfish to myself because the longing for someone who doesn't want to stay with me is another heartbreak waiting to happen. However, I miss the feeling of having someone beside me—the warm and comforting feeling of it. 

I woke up with the horns of jeepneys and busses outside. I hate waking up with an interrupted sleep but this time is an exemption. I'm still inside Metropolitan Manila so I should've expected this, especially that I am not in the affluent part of it.

To be honest, I don't know if I'm mad with my interrupted rest caused by the vehicular noises outside or I'm mad because I can't seem to forget the man last night. 

In my mind I can still see his face, in my skin I can still feel his touch, and on the bedsheet, I can still smell his scent.

I touched my cold cheeks and proceeded to meditate in front of the bathroom mirror, naked. 

I still have one more day to roam around before I go home. 

After an hour of preparing myself, I proceeded to walk to the exit. 

And before I completely leave the place, out of all the people in the lobby, I bumped into the stranger last night. He looks like he did not have a good night's rest based on his eyebags. 

He gave me a bittersweet smile which I returned with a heavy heart. 

I hate it. I don't like what I feel. 

Did I just fell in love with this unknown human being? Or am I just extremely lonely for the past days of my trip that I started to long for someone? 

Am I being deceived that I'm in love with this stranger, out of all the people around me, this man? 

I can't seem to figure it out but there's something so special about him. 

I then walked outside under the blazing heat of the sun intensified by Manila's pollution, and into the spot where jeepneys lined up to pick up passengers, I entered one with the hopes of a good day and trip ahead to cover up the dreadful fact that I will never see that stranger again.