Clock chimes. It is now midnight. The winds howl violently. The rains beat upon earth fiercely. And I remain lain awake by Tsumibito's side. The man remains deep in slumber, his breaths shallow, his arms about my waist limply as I look to the high ceiling walls in thought. The words of his earlier confessions still remain a thing difficult to process, to internalize.
They still etch in the deepest pits of my mind. I turn ever so slightly to gaze upon him, my palm supporting my cheek, my elbow supporting my weight. I reach a finger to sweep a single strand that seems to tickle his left eye. In this moment he so easily embodies all that is calm and peace and quiet. Yes, he'd begged me earlier, told me to rest with him in his chambers for the night. Perhaps because of his vulnerability. Perhaps because of his intoxication.
I tried to decline but heavens, I failed. Failed miserably. In the present, he stirs in his sleep before his brows knit. Then, his eyes jerk wide open -startling me as well. He scrutinizes, his eyes travel left and rake to the right. That is until they clash with my own. My heart pounds harshly, mightily in my throat. Should he ask me to leave? Should he kick me out now that he appears somewhat sober? I wait for the command to come. But...
"You stayed," comes his voice, low as a whisper.
"I did," I respond in the same whisper he employs, "I...should I leave, perhaps?"
"No, stay. Stay, Rosa," he voices whilst his hold grows somewhat firmer.
I am not accustomed to this persona. This calmness of a man. How should I react to his genuine serenity. It's as though for the first time in a long while he sits at ease, at peace.
"You have not slept, have you?"
"Not quite, no," I shake my head sheepishly from side to side.
For a moment, he ponders to himself though his eyes still burrow intensely into my own. I nearly avert my gaze, nearly look anywhere else but to him.
"I may be able to help with that," comes the soft tonality of him as he sits himself atop the bed, his back to the cushiony headboard.
For a moment, the confusion sets in. I furrow brows whilst I look to him for some semblance of understanding. He taps the space between his thighs -gesturing that I should sit myself there. So tentatively, I drag my figure and plaster myself between his spread out thighs -my back to his chest. Grace, what am I doing! Why do I so easily comply.
Gradually, his fingers thread my hairs. And softly, he massages. Tenderly, he kneads my scalp and temples and the back of my neck till the tension leaves my muscles and body relaxes under his touch. I have knowledge that come the morning, he should revert back to his usual self. I have knowledge that the morning shan't look as pretty as the present does. Yet I let myself take pleasures in his soothing touches.
"Am I...am I doing it right, Obal?" He speaks lowly, unsure of himself.
"You are," I speak softly.
My brain begins to wander, to fleet back to the kiss I'd shared with the lad whilst in France. The kiss I'd reciprocated so passionately whilst we trained. Why did I let myself indulge despite my love for another man? Why did I let myself taste, let myself fall? Do I truly love Cush? Did I ever really, or did I only feel that I was endebted to a man who saw me through tough times?
He continues to massage, continues to rub my scalp so gently till the slumber rears its head in my line of vision. My head leans into broad chest as the sleep comes to me so faithfully. Vaguely, I feel as the covers are dragged to envelope my body. And vaguely, I feel the arms that snake around my chest, the solace they afford...
†††††††
When I woke in the later hours of morning, Tsumibito had already left his chambers. I'd searched for him, looked and sought him out only for Karai to tell me that he had to tend to business away in Kenya; Africa. That had been a beautiful five days ago. And in the hundred and twenty hours of his obvious absentia, the man made it a mission to send in bouquets of tulips to my chambers each morning. And all held a scarlet hue.
YOU ARE READING
Red As Snow...(BWAM, Yakuza Romance, 18+)
Romance"Growing up, my mama always told me one thing; bad company did corrupt good morals. I did not believe her, did not believe those words she'd said to me with such conviction. That was until I crossed paths with a man so lethal, a man so utterly consu...
