KIAN'S ACT

Fourteen

I sat across from Kian as we sat in Cape Town’s Nobu. I barely had an appetite but Kian wasn’t going to hear that from me, so I ate what was in front of me. The delicious food tasted like sand to be honest, it felt like I was filling my mouth with it and no amount of chewing or drinking water was going to make me feel better. 

He sat, silent in his seat, watching me as he smoked his cigar. His gloved fingers wrapped around the Cuban cigar as he brought it to his lips, an untouched glass of whisky was placed in front of him and his uncovered forest green eye stayed on my figure. I didn’t want to look up at him, but it was so hard. 

I slowly set the fork down and looked up, meeting his eyes, “Kian…” I fell silent, taking in a breath and trying to steady my shaking hand. I swallowed, trying to build up my courage, “what do you want with me?” I finally asked, my eyes looking into his with questions I knew I’d never get the answers to. I placed my hands on my lap, leaning back in my seat. My eyes went over the ivory cage that he wore and I couldn’t help the wonder of how it ever found its way on there. 

“Do you want to break me?” I finally asked. “I think you do,” I continued, my words soft and meek, “and I think you’re doing a great job at it.” I admitted with a soft, yet sad laugh. “I’m breakable…but you’re not the first to do it. My mother did it first, and I don’t know if that makes it any better but a part of me wants to rub that in your face, that you weren’t the first person to make me bleed…not the first to make me cry.” 

He was silent, bringing the cigar to his lips, his eye blinking slowly as he watched me as nonchalantly as he’d watched Harriet. I nervously played with the serviette that he’d placed on my lap and then looked down into my lap. I played with the edge of my pixie cut near my ear, playing with the sunflower blonde hair, and then released a breath. 

“If I speak out of turn, will you cut my tongue as well?” I asked, rhetorically even though I knew the answer. He didn’t answer me, but I didn’t think he would either way so we fell into silence. My eyes trailed to the musicians that were performing for us live, as per Kian’s request. They were a Spanish band and I couldn’t help the way that I seemed to slowly be sucked in by their music as we sat there in silence. 

“You want to dance,” Kian finally commented and I looked at him in surprise because I’d almost forgotten that he was sitting across from me. 

I shook my head denying it, but he continued, “When you want to dance you tap your feet and you fidget because you want to get up.” I watched as he set his cigar down on the ash tray that had been placed beside his drink. 

“What are you doing?” I asked him, hearing the musicians begin to play one of my favourite Spanish songs: Esta Danada, I was convinced he’d told them to play my favourite Spanish songs, how he knew them, I have no idea but I didn’t want to find out. 

I watched as he stood up from his seat and adjusted the jacket of the olive green suit that he wore as he walked around the table and extended his hand for me to take. I looked at the gloved hands and slowly placed my hand in his and let him help me up. The chiffon pleated mini dress that I was wearing, moved breezily with me, it had balloon sleeves and elasticized cuffs, and the dress was a flowy wide fit that moved as though it were made with the rebellious air of water. 

Kian pulled me to his body and I sucked in a breath as he pressed my body to his, his one hand on my lower back and the other hand still holding my own. I peered up at him in surprise as he began to move us to the music, swaying my body side to side, and I felt the way that he moved his hips with expertise as if he lived for salsa dancing. 

I let out a laugh as he began to spin me, twirling me such that it felt like I was floating on air. I was on the tips of my toes, my one leg off the ground, the other barely on it as he spun me while holding my arm up. The yellow dress created a yellow tornado around me as he spun me until the smile on my face turned drunken form the dizziness that I was feeling. “Woohoo!” I said with a laugh as he pulled me back in and grabbed my left leg before slowly dipping me, while slowly caressing my exposed leg as he lifted it to his hip. 

The air suddenly felt tense as my leg was up, straddling him, his hand on my thigh and that warm leather casting heavenly feelings on my skin. His forest green eyes felt as intense as ever, and I saw them darken. I was breathing heavy and my breath came out in thick pants as it slowed and my heart skipped a beat at the way that I felt my body warm at our position and the passionate words that came from the singer. 

His hand continued to dance on my exposed thigh, causing shivers to run down my spine as I couldn’t help but bite my bottom lip at how this moment felt. I was so close to the devil, his ivory mask that has brought so much pain and trauma to me and was the source of the bane of my existence– I looked on at the half man that he was…the perfection that he was. 

His hair cast a curtain over our faces, giving us privacy in this intimate moment. 

My body seemed to come to life with the way that he held me, and the way that gloved hand of his seemed to continue gripping my thigh. My leg wouldn’t drop from his waist, it stayed on there as I felt his hand make its way dangerously under my dress, to the very bit of me that was all that I had left to offer him. 

He suddenly lifted me up, but his hand ran up the length of my leg and connected with my ass. He placed a sharp slap on it and I gasped at the strength behind his hand on my skin before he let go of my leg and my leg dropped from his waist. 

I was suddenly very hot, and I placed my hand on his chest, “I need the bathroom,” I stammered and got out of his arms, running away from him. 

I made my way across the restaurant and when I had gotten out of sight, I pressed myself to a wall and placed a hand on my racing heart. I took in several breaths, “what the hell was that?” I scolded myself, mad at my body and my heart for getting so carried away with the man who was the devil. 

I swallowed, still feeling the warmth of his gloved hands on my skin and I couldn’t help but bite my lip as I slowly traced my thigh with my own fingers, following the trailing blaze that his hands had left on me.