Light as a feather.
That's how I felt when He pinned me to the wall with my arms stretched overhead. The wall was cold as marble and although my body was bare, I was warm from the heat radiating off His body as He pressed into me, banishing the air from my lungs.
His lips were on mine, the pressure moving in undulating, torturous waves, but then in a flash He pulled away, leaving me hot and wanting.
I mewled in dissatisfaction at the loss, but He placated my yearnings with a tender kiss on the side of my cheek.
He dragged His lips lower, my breath quivering with each kiss that followed.
Over the swell of my breasts.
The curve of my hip bones.
The length of my thighs.
He worshipped nearly every part of me with gentle irreverence.
Then He replaced His lips with His tongue, and the sensation set fireworks exploding in my brain. I couldn't stop myself from crying out in a feral moan as His tongue tracked closer...
And closer...
He stilled just above my pelvic bone.
And when I looked down, a cloud of mist blurred my vision, leaving only his powerful silhouette in view. I reached out but my fingers were met with air.
He called to me in a commanding voice that echoed right to my heart.
"Come to me."
✫
"Can you hear me?"
My eyelids fluttered open and I saw Lucy hovering over me, tinged in black.
I blinked in confusion.
"Good morning, Top Gun," she teased, and I realised I still had my Aviator Ray-Bans on. I yanked them off my face, but soon paid the price after the harsh morning sun seared into my eyes like laser beams.
"Ack!" I shot up from the mossy floor, blinking rapidly.
After awhile, the stars subsided and my vision restored.
"Gosh, you look shot," Lucy remarked unhelpfully.
I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for the observation."
After last night's near-tryst with Magnus, I tossed and turned in my bed for hours on end. My mind was particularly obsessed over the physics of his smile; how it had just the right angle of crookedness to make my insides go topsy turvy.
When my consciousness couldn't make sense of that, it replayed our intimate encounter like vivid scenes from a movie. The way his nose buried into the crook of my neck; one of his hands on my waist to keep me close, the other cupping my derriere.
I'd never heard of lust at first sight before, but this must be a clinical case of it.
As a result, I spent all night cleaning my apartment and bathroom, which were both overdue for a clean anyway. Initially, I tried using my powers to start the vacuum cleaner but it just laid there, its unmoving trunk a flaccid representation of my love life.
So I plugged it into the power socket in defeat, putting in some elbow grease for the first time ever. Much to my amazement, manual cleaning did wonders to release my pent-up sexual frustration.
I vacuumed every inch of my townhouse, including 'no-mans-land', which I called the area under my couch that was rapidly filling with a community of dust bunnies. I scrubbed at each porcelain tile in my bathroom like I had a death wish, nearly splitting the cleaning sponge in half. I wiped each pair of shoes in my closet, and that alone almost had me thinking I should stop getting more.
Keyword: almost.
By dawn, my apartment was squeaky clean and I collapsed onto the couch, spent.
Until I had another dream about Him again.
Then I woke up feeling more sexually frustrated than ever before. To clear my head, I shot Lucy a text and told her to meet at my mom's.
That's how I ended up here, in front of the Winterhaven Mausoleum. I must've fallen asleep in the middle of the clearing while waiting for Lucy.
Slouching my shoulders, I dragged my heavy Doc Martens (the only practical footwear I owned) through the moist undergrowth towards a nearby oak tree and plopped my bottom down in the shade. Lucy followed suit and sat next to me, looking cute in her knitted cardigan and low rise jeans.
Lucy's clean, simple ensemble made me look positively homeless in comparison. I was dressed shabbily in a shapeless black tee and sweatpants; I couldn't be bothered to change from my cleaning attire before heading out.
Not even the sight of my gleaming shoe closet cheered me up.
Oh, if Hugo Jerrod could see me now. He'd have a fit and throw a bin liner over my body to cover the obscenity.
"What did Mystery Man do this time?" Lucy asked, breaking my self-deprecating reverie.
For a moment, I thought she was talking about Magnus, but Lucy was more likely referring to the man in my prescience dreams.
"He pinned me to a wall and kissed me senseless." I folded my knees to my chest at the memory.
Lucy's violet eyes gleamed. "On the lips?"
"Everywhere," I said breathlessly and Lucy sighed.
"You'll find him soon. I bet he's the same guy as your Deflowering One."
I hummed in reply.
I hadn't told Lucy about Elder Lyrina and the Curse's ripple effect.
She didn't need to bear the burden for my own predicament, after all.
I got me into this mess so I was the one in charge of fixing it.
"It's always so serene here," Lucy noted after a beat and I smiled in agreement.
When it wasn't busy blinding people, the sunlight actually casted a beautiful scene as it sneaked between the leaves above us, creating pockets of light on the evergreen grass.
The wind was rustling through the surrounding oak trees, whistling. Together with the sound of water flowing in a nearby river, it created a sort of melancholic, harmonious symphony. The scent of fresh moss and morning dew danced in the air and I placed both hands to the ground, connected.
All at once, my anxiety began to melt away through my fingertips.
The Winterhaven Mausoleum was hidden in a secret clearing behind the main mansion, still within the Coven Compound. Made entirely out of white marble, younger enchanters would normally steer clear of the site, finding its towering exteriors dark and ominous.
But I didn't find the Mausoleum spooky at all.
Honestly, I loved being at the mausoleum knowing that my mother was also in there, resting in eternal slumber amongst other fallen Winterhavens.
I hugged my knees closer to my chest.
"Are you okay, Lena?" Lucy leaned closer to look at me, like she was trying to pry information out of my skull.
I smiled tightly. "Why do you think I'm here?"
Lucy placed a hand on my shoulder. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
All my life, I had been the one to take care of Lucy. She was eight years younger, so I loved her like a little sister. Funny how things were reversed and she seemed like the older, wiser one now. And I was the sad little virgin witch who was about to lose her magic.
"There's nothing to tell, really." I turned away, and Lucy's hand fell from my shoulder.
"It's just the Curse," I said again, focusing on two ravens perched atop the Mausoleum. One had its' beady eyes trained on me, and I had a sinking suspicion it was the same Raven that came to my balcony a few days ago.
"Just the Curse?" Lucy shot me a knowing look.
That, and the prescience dreams.
And the fact that I was more than willing to lose my virginity to a werewolf.
I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "Yeah."
"Can I ask you something? You can choose not to answer, I mean. It's totally none of my business and I'm pretty sure you have more important things on your mind like finding your Deflowering One, but it's just been bothering me yesterday and...I don't know, maybe I should just keep quie—"
"Lucinda," I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Just ask me."
Lucy chewed her bottom lip. "Okay. Are you scared of sex?"
I stared at her.
She probably didn't mean to, but I was offended.
"I have the spell to animate sexual fantasies memorised like the back of my hand, Lucy. Do you really think I'm the kind of witch to be scared of sex?"
"Yeah, but those are fantasies, Lena. They're not real."
There was a ladybug weaving through the grass beside my feet, and I watched the lonely bugger struggle to find its way through the mud.
I am that ladybug.
"Feels real enough," I joked, but Lucy scoffed at that.
"But it's not, Lena. The real thing is sweaty, dramatic, often the most skin-crawling, awkward thing you'll ever experience in your life."
"Broom Boy was that bad, huh?"
"I'm serious!" Lucy's tone indicated so. "I find it hard to believe that you were with Teddy for a decade and you guys never slept with each other. I have eyes, Lena. I've seen him shirtless. Anybody would cartwheel into bed with his sculpted shoulders and washboard abs."
I frowned. "We were too busy with work so we never got around to it."
That wasn't quite true. In the beginning of our relationship, Teddy couldn't keep his hands off me. And Lucy was right about his shoulders and abs. They looked cut from marble (and felt like it too).
But whenever he tried to initiate sex, I came up with whatever excuse to fit the day.
I was always too tired from work.
Or I had period cramps.
Or my feet were too cold.
Anything to get out of being intimate.
Eventually, he stopped initiating and we started seeing less of each other. Then Ylvaine happened, and I guess he finally got his socks rocked off.
"He did, however, have the time to bang a tree nymph," I said for levity.
Lucy groaned. "Quit deflecting. Is there a reason why you're a virgin, Lena?"
Yes.
"No," I lied.
Lucy looked away, gazing ahead at the Mausoleum instead.
I silently wondered what would my mother say if she were here now. Surely, I wouldn't be in this situation if she'd been alive, right?
"I called you here for company, not so you can laud your sexual experience over me."
"That's not what I was trying to do!" Lucy exclaimed, snapping her eyes back to mine.
When she saw me smiling, she shoved me, hard.
"I'm joking, silly," I reassured, to which she replied, "You can't take anything seriously."
I pondered whether that was a compliment or otherwise, but Lucy was busy scratching her chin, deep in thought. I imagined a detective cap materialising on her head.
"Let's just sit in silence for a bit," I said, before she could probe any further.
Lucy looked at me for a beat, and then gave me a heavy nod.
"We can do that," she said with a closed smile.
I tilted my head towards the sun, sliding my Aviators on. The peace I felt moments ago was long gone, and I missed it terribly.
I couldn't tell Lucy...
Or rather, my pride couldn't admit to the truth:
That I stayed a virgin because I was scared of getting pregnant.
And I was scared of dying from child labor.
And I was scared of leaving my child without guidance; without my love.
Because that's what happened with my mother and me.
So no matter how irrational that fear was, a childless future was the ideal option.
I wasn't scared of sex, really.
I was scared of ending up like my mother.