That girl

She sat arms folded close to her chest, unaware of her effect on me, quiet but not contemplative. Her thoughts were on the music which formed the crux of her existence, but the contours of her body had a language of their own, calling out to me. In desperation and almost instinctively I touched the small bone jutting out painfully from her shoulder blade. The reaction was electric and she jumped in horror and confusion, her eyes glazing with minor frustration. I covered my face not yet decided what resulted in this reckless burst of initiative. She was not the most stunning woman I had met, not the most captivating either. Her physical structure was attractive but not particularly intoxicating, hence this bordering on sexual, curiosity was unexpected and a tad disconcerting. I left her room, the embarrassment now evident on various parts of my body, my feverish shaking, my flushed cheeks, and my definite heightened sense of self. I came back to her room, this time just watching from a distance, insecure and unsure. her friend lay on the next bed curled up into a ball, her body more curvaceous, a buxom woman with bright black eyes. In contrast to sujata, her body was more alluring but at that very instant her charm decidedly less. Creeping up behind her, I touched the hollow of her chest, and realization hit me with the shock of cold water on an unaccustomed body.