16 Jan Tokyo Love Story 2

My secret kiss in Tokyo 

I have always hated elevators. I hate the idea of being in a very small place with other people that I don’t know, making small talk and breathing the same air. But my husband insisted in renting an Airbnb in Tokyo in the 53rd floor of a horrifying big building.

We wanted to do something special for our 15th anniversary, we first thought of going to Australia, well, that was my idea, but at the end we end up in Tokyo because my husband is a crazy fan of manga.

We come from Lisbon, my husband Tomás, is a good person but he thinks that because he is the man of the house he has to be sort of a hero that can save my world every time. I would sometimes appreciate to be seen as a strong and independent woman.

The first night in Tokyo we went to a well known restaurant 2 blocks from our huge building. He got as drunk and I as usually walked him back home.

We got in the elevator with another couple, they were younger than us. He was also drunk and she was rolling her eyes to the sky, in a very desperate and tired way. They had a very Scottish english accent. She was redhead and her eyes were green like two pine tree forest.  I thought she was beautiful and I couldn’t stop staring at her.

Then my worst nightmare happened. The elevator collapsed in the 35th floor. We were stuck and we couldn’t communicate with anybody because nobody speaks English in Tokyo. A tense atmosphere started to heat up. The girl and I couldn’t stop staring at each other, we were silently regretting the trip to Tokyo. Our husbands did their macho thing and got out of the elevator through a little door on the ceiling to try and fix the machinery. They left us alone. We closed our eyes and breathed, we smiled. It was so hot that we started to sweat. She came close to me without a word and took my hair clip and my hair went down. She smiled. And I kissed her. Without thinking it twice. I just jumped at her and kissed her. Her lips were soft, very soft, and she smelt like lavender. Time stoped and we cried while we kissed. I suppose that we cried because we were realizing how fucked up was our life, we felt relief. I hugged her and kissed her one last time. Then the boys came back feeling like strong heroes, they kissed us and the elevator started working. We didn’t say a word and when they got out, she smiled and I smiled. Since that day, I love elevators.