The Sentiment of Misbehaving.

Location: Hvar, Croatia. 

***

The haze of the moonlight laced with alcohol had my mind and body craving mischief followed by a minor dose of debauchery. Dancing alone in a bar, while my friend took a more relaxed approach sipping cocktails with a rather intellectual group from Norway, triggered the the itch for something more memorable to follow. I flitted forcefully to the music as the sweat beaded across my brow. The twisted mess of my hair piled up didn't phase me as I was devoid of all interest to promote aesthetics. Turning to see a glimpse of the harbour, which boasted an army of white sail boats through the bar windows, was both endearing and terrifying. The thoughts which spelled consequence were quickly intimidated and buckled by a greater desire to feel that electrifying sense of vitality that wholly consumes you when you know your next move is to break the rules. 

Before I, or anybody else, could change my mind I was down to a black crop top and palm-print bikini bottoms teetering at the edge of the pier. The universe must have known what I was in for that night because a feeling of fate transpired. On failing to pack enough clean underwear, I had been forced to wear my bikini bottoms in lieu of knickers. Too willing to accept this as a sense of encouragement from a greater power I left my sandals and clothes behind, along with my inhibitions, and took a leap of faith into the closest row-boat. The thrill had started to consume me as I felt an overwhelming sense of confidence for my actions. This is the feeling of somebody who is so wonderfully close to breaking the film that covers conformity. 

I turned around to look at him, I looked up with eyes wide and I knew I didn't need to say a word. Before I could act, he was beside me in this tiny but substantial row-boat. The pier was buzzing with people and the atmosphere felt thick and calm, as far as I knew nobody was paying attention to us. Perhaps my tunnel vision for the apprehension of our closeness had blurred the existing background of this scene, leaving me only focused on him, the row-boat and I. 

I stood at the stern of the boat and looked out on the harbour. The water was resemblant of ink, with barely a ripple. The lights from the houses that gradiated up in hills over Hvar twinkled in the reflection of the water. Though it seemed pitch black, my surroundings were crystal clear. On taking a minute to accept my surroundings, I knew what was next. I twisted round to find him standing barely clad in only his boxers sporting a coy but amicably modest grin. 

'So you want to go in?' I asked in a sure manner with perfect stability. He took a step forward and opened his mouth to reply but before he could answer my all-too-rhetorical question I had slipped into the water with a quiet splash. The water felt cool on every inch of my body and I felt my senses increase and become more alert, lifting the intoxicated fog that had clouded my mind whilst standing in the warm air which promised no sign of a breeze. I felt droplets of water gently graze my cheek as he lowered himself into the water. This wasn't a reckless event, this was a careful tease for adventure. 

'You're a strong swimmer', he mentioned casually with a hint of intrigue. Perhaps he was wondering where else my strengths resided. 'I love the water, so I guess it comes naturally', I replied simply, as we both continued to swim further into the mass of boats which inhabited the bay. As we reached what felt like a maze with a dead end we began to tread water. We didn't know where we were trying to go. The dead end didn't frighten me but felt more like a natural resting point. It felt good to be still. Without any hint of anxiety he reached out through the water and held my upper arm in a firm but non-threatening grip. I barely knew this person, but my instincts pushed logic aside as I trusted his touch. We locked eyes almost if to begin an important conversation, but remained silent. The level of anticipation was certainly not dangerous, but was one that collected kindling within my mind, stable until ignited. I reached out to run my fingers along his jaw with my free hand, he was warm to the touch which seemed unusual considering we had been immersed in crisp water for at least half an hour. It then occurred to me that nor did I feel cold, the heat from the pure act of living so presently was apparently sustenance enough. I felt my chest rise and fall and my breaths become heavier as we continued to say with no words with what felt like a thousand. As my fingers moved round to the nape of his neck I moved with a caution, unsure of the boundaries. My silent questioning was answered as the water moved suddenly and I found myself pulled into his embrace. My heart rate rose and his hand gelled onto the small of my back as the water curled around us.