Hour Writing Challenge!
The Prompt for this challenge was a mix of two, one where in the future, PDA is forbidden and the other is where emotions can be bought in bottles.
Time Taken: 59mins 35sec
“I can’t believe the wait-list has gotten this long already…didn’t this shop just open?”
It wasn’t exactly irritation that dripped off the words, perhaps it was just a little tension at wanting to feel the euphoria again that came with simply not caring. The society they’d grown up in was so regimented, so controlled, it was hard to deny the pleasures that came with even the smallest tastes of freedom.
“We have waited up until this point haven’t we?”
It was never easy to reason with someone you loved, it was so tempting to give in to impulse…but with public displays of affection being forbidden, it was better to simply focus on the time they would get to spend behind closed doors. No one really had an answer or told the same story as to why the bans came about. The regime simply believed that measured and controlled responses were better for the lives of their citizens. Romance often flowered into lust and lust was not easily controlled. Just like anger gave way to rage and sorrow bled into depression. It was the extremes that seemed to scare people.
Privacy was the one luxury that people were still allowed. Behind closed doors, we were allowed to behave as we liked without fear of armed guards breaking down our walls and dragging us away for a correction. People that often got taken away in the little black cars very rarely came back as anything recognizable. Shells of their former selves.
It’s why places like this shop were so popular lately. They offered a taste of what all of us wanted without any of the dangers. What they sold were simple, bottled emotions. For a premium fee, you could easily buy your way into feeling anything you wanted. The thrill of success, the heartache of a break-up, or the utter ecstasy that came with falling in love. It was all temporary, the effects rarely lasted longer than a few hours. A safe and allowable high for the masses.
When our turn finally came, it was easy for the shopkeeper to see what we wanted. Our blushing cheeks, our nervous glances at one another, the almost tangible foot of distance we kept between each other to be safe of any mishaps or slips of our raging hormones. We were both on edge, but we’d talked about making this decision months ago. In a world that didn’t allow for couples to show their love in public…when, they did decide to finally give in, it should be at its peak of expression.
“Let me guess lovebirds, you’re looking for a little something to feel that growing spark? Maybe turn it into a bonfire? Or maybe something to keep things sweet?”
Though the shopkeeper was being friendly, the large camera trained at the window was hard to miss. It’s ever-watchful eye likely feeding their faces back to some government building for analysis, making sure no one abused the system or had the gall to steal. It was at that moment that my mouth felt horribly dry, I almost couldn’t bring myself to speak. The hours that had gone into researching the different bottled emotions were slipping from her mind like there was a leak somewhere.
“We would like to try the Philia please.”
My partner’s voice was always a comfort, a gentle tenor that played over my ears and wrapped around me like a warm embrace. We had toyed around the idea of going with Eros or Agape, but something about Philia simply felt right. Our choice seemed to surprise the shopkeeper, perhaps it wasn’t a common choice?
“Not a request I get all the time from couples, everyone wants that spice and fire. I’m not gonna talk myself out of a sale though, so here you go you two. Remember, what happens in your own home is your business, don’t give anyone a show.”
The words were meant to be playful, but it was a clear warning without being overly threatening. After issuing what I hoped was a standard ending to their sales script, we were offered a pleasant enough looking vial. The liquid inside was a pale rose color, almost pink. They were engineered to be tasteless, but the internet was littered with rumors that they did have tastes, which were believed to be different based upon the person who consumed them.
With our bottle of Philia in hand, my partner and I walked along the streets. Our shared apartment wasn’t far and was already staged with our favorite take away meal, our cozy clothes, and the ideal set up for a good cuddle and watching a movie. It was believed that many couples had nights like this, once a month or so. The emotions were not cheap after all, some of them easily being the difference between groceries or worse, rent.
I could see the apartment building on the horizon and I couldn’t deny the way my heart started to pound in my chest. I knew what love was, I felt it for my partner more than anything else in this world. I knew want, lust, desire, but I also knew comfort, safety, and joy with them. It killed me a little that I couldn’t simply hug them goodbye when we walked to work or embrace them when they were struck by sadness. They say they know I care, but I worry at times. Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t my partner’s urging right away. They were motioning me to follow them. It wasn’t in the direction of the apartment so I was very confused.
“What are you doing?”
It was a fair enough question, but they simply urged me to follow, so I did. We walked a few yards into an alley, the only thing surrounding us was tall walls with teasing glimpses of blue sky overhead. I couldn’t help but stare at my partner, the question was clear in my eyes.
“I don’t want to wait anymore. Let’s do it now.”
In their hand was the vial of Philia, their hands already moving to open it. Panic and excitement shot through my body so fast I almost felt sick. What if they got caught? What if they got sent in for a correction?
“We’re not far away from the apartment…we can take it now and by the time we arrive, it should be in effect…I just don’t want to waste a moment of this, I want to spend every second with you.”
The argument was so compelling. It made perfect sense. I was tired of waiting, I was tired of not sharing the deepest of emotions possible with them. I couldn’t say the words, but I managed to nod, reaching out to help their shaking hands. Nervousness, it made the moment all the tenser. An audible pop could be heard as the seal on the vial broke, the lid giving way. There was enough Philia for them to have a drink apiece. My partner was always the braver person when it came to trying something new and took a drink. They were quick to shove the vial into my hand, time was of the essence after all. Cautiously I took the vial and raised it to my lips, tipping it back.
Rainwater in a summer storm with a touch of strawberry…that is what I tasted. I reminded me of the day I met my partner. A summer storm had brought us both into the same market to seek shelter, we hit it off almost instantly and the night had ended in my apartment, the taste of strawberry on my lips from what I imagined was my partner’s preferred lip balm.
The memory came on so intensely that when I looked into my partner’s eyes, I felt every desire to hold them close and never let go. The worries and the rest of the world faded away until they were little more than a silent and unspeaking audience.
“I thought I’d never feel this again…it’s just like when we first met….”
Our hands had found one another with such ease, it was like breathing. I could feel the way my partner’s thumb danced over my own, grazing it affectionately. Our lips met next, reckless abandon being the order of the day. It felt right, there was no fear, no timid shyness, just pure affection and declarations of love.
Memories of moments like this nervously shared even behind closed doors flooded between us, colliding and remembering that these feelings were not something to be ashamed of or feared, but rather something to be cherished. There seemed little in this world that would have or could have stopped their embrace…that was until a distant sound came closer and closer. In the fog of their embrace, they were spared the jarring sight of jackbooted thugs running at them from both directions, batons raised and coming down in beating force. They would not know the taste of blood on their lips, and they would not know the terror of being pulled from another and stuffed into the backs of black cars.
Many people saw and many people did nothing…and that is just how the powers that be wanted it. To rule those in fear is so much easier than ruling those who are not afraid to raise their voices.
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