You ask me when did I know that I was into you. I go back to the first time when you came home, and we'd ended up making out. During the course of the act, I was amused to discover that your legs were unwaxed. You'd not come prepared for what had happened. It wasn't on your mind. I looked for anxiety in those eyes. There was none. The unpreparedness didn't make you uncomfortable. You lay there, looking at me with no hurry, as if we were not acquaintances but friends from the past.

"So this is what it feels to be with a man," I said, immediately repenting for having stereotyped. You could have gotten offended, but you didn't. "This is what it feels to be home with a woman, is that what you meant?" You asked, knowing I wasn't even close. I nodded, like a kindergarten kid to its teacher. You ruffled my hair, as I compared the texture of the two unwaxed legs, one resting on the other. Yours was softer. You, too.

- हर्ष स्नेहांशु