Femme Fatale

‘So what you are saying is, you don’t know either?’ Theodor holds his eyebrow in a raised position, looking at Hannah who chuckles then sighs, fidgeting with the shoulderstrap of her dress.

‘Well, I don’t know what it is. But I am sure I know what it feels like.’

‘So what does it feel like?’

Hannah sighs again, sounding more distraught,

‘I am not going to tell you. Don’t you know this for yourself anyways?’

‘But I was curious what it feels like to you, we are all different people anyways.’

‘I need a cigarette,’ Hannah gets up and Theodor follows her outside. They light up and remain briefly silent. Some students cycle by, in rows of three. Some of them wave at their friends over on the other terrace, of the more popular winebar. Hannah and Theodor both hate the place, the people from across the street make their skin crawl, except that one time when Hannah went over to borrow a light and seduced a guy who was just a bit less of an asshole. The thought crosses her mind as she is smoking. Meanwhile, Theodor tells her, ‘We don’t have to talk about it.’ ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she says, her tone sounds harsh although she doesn’t mean for it to. Theodor presses his cigarette into the ashtray, ‘ok.’ He heads back inside to use the bathroom, when he notices me standing at the bar. 

‘Henry! When did you get here?’ 

I just got in and I don’t even have my drink yet. I haven’t even gotten the attention of the bartender, who is in a rush to line up a row of happy-hour specials. ‘Why don’t you come sit at our table?’ Theodor motions. I nod and he walks off. Once the bartender brings me my single malt with lots of ice and a splash of lemon, I set it down at our usual table, which is the one with the high stools by the window. We use the alcove to store our bags and such. Hannah comes in and squeezes my shoulder, by the look on her face, I can tell that Theodor has been trying to discuss philosophy with her. ‘Well, you seem amused,’ I say, and she just glares at me. ‘How are you?’ she asks. ‘Ohh, I’m good. Just tired from writing.’ 

‘You’ve been working on your short-story you mean?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘The one about love?’ 

I take a sip of my drink. ‘Yeah.’ 

I like the way my hand looks holding the glass. 

‘Well, did you learn anything interesting?’ Hannah asks, putting her purse in the alcove. I don’t really want to answer her question, but I do so anyway. ‘It would require a lot of explaining,’ I say, ‘but I have been looking at cultural explanations for different kinds of love. Biochemically there are supposedly three different kinds of hormonal processes, which sort of make up the different parts of it.’ Hannah, thoughtfully takes a sip of her wine, while I wait for her to answer. I am surprised she is drinking white, she usually only drinks red. ‘Okay, that kind of makes sense,’ Hannah says, ‘you mean different as in sexual or friendship right?’ I nod, before Theodor comes back from the bathroom. And takes his favourite stool at the head of the table. I continue to explain. ‘Yeah, that is also how I would put it. There’s three kinds in total. There’s the sexual attraction, which is very physical. This is what people mean when we talk about having chemistry, which can sometimes just be called lust.’ Theodor raises his hand, ‘But isn’t that a bit of a misconception? Don’t people get feelings for each other when they sleep together? Also, what about asexual people, or people who are more attracted to connection. I don’t think there is such a thing as just lust.’ Hannah curls the corners of her mouth, she seems very amused.

‘Oh, yes there is! For sure there is. I can tell you.’ I am also inclined to agree with Hannah more than I am with Theodor on the subject, I think he confuses feelings of attachment, which will heighten sexual experience with the druglike superficial kind that can also feel great. He doesn’t really try and argue his case with Hannah, though. He asks, ‘So what are the other kinds then?’ 

‘So the second kind of love, is what I would say is friendship. And this is something that comes naturally from spending time with someone. It makes us bond with the people that play a regular part in our lives. And people that become friends are usually people that have similar interests, so they spend their time doing the same things.’ ‘Okay, that makes sense,’ Theodor nods,’ and the third kind?’ 

I take another big sip of my whisky to dull my senses, and another one while I notice that Theodor has barely touched his beer. Hannah’s glass is empty and she gets up to the bar, by which she means that I can finish my story while she doesn’t have to listen to it. ‘The third kind of love is actually the one I find most interesting,’ I tell Theodor,‘ It is the same chemical process by which children and parents bond. It implies a lifelong nearly unbreakable attachment that cannot be fully explained. I think that it comes from natural selection, where humans who had stronger family attachments like that were more likely to survive.’ Theodor raises his hand once again to make his point. ‘So even this strongest kind of love that we cannot really explain, is a result of evolution, you say?’ 

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

Theodor pauses for a long while, contemplating. I notice that Hannah has gone outside to drink and smoke by herself, personifying a splendid femme-fatale. Theodor answers: ‘But, to me, that doesn’t explain the deeper spiritual connection that we feel. Your analysis seems to account for all the natural processes, but it doesn’t explain how sometimes it feels as though fate has brought two people together. What can explain that feeling, that even when you see someone for the first time, you just know that you have found your soulmate?

There is doubt in his voice, yet he seems sure about his answer. How one can have doubt and yet be sure at the same time, it surprises me. It is something I had never supposed possible. Theodor thoughtfully looks out the window and watches Hannah take a drag of her cigarette.