"I'm so excited for you to meet my brother." I let out as I roll closer to him in my bed.
I've laid in bed for maybe twenty minutes, looking at him sleep before he woke up. This morning, he is in a cuddly mood, and I'm happy he doesn't want to rush to get to work. This little alone time is very appreciated. His voice is so raspy and low in the morning. It's actually very arousing. His hair is a beautiful mess, and his cheeks are a light shade of pink.
"Which one am I meeting today?" He rubs his eyes and turns more comfortably to wrap an arm around me.
"William. You met him already."
"I did, but we never got formally introduced."
"Indeed. I'm sure you'll get along." I smile at him, but it doesn't take long for him to roll his eyes.
"You know I'm not the greatest with people."
"Well, he isn't just people. He is my brother. It'll be fine."
"Tell me about him. What is he like?" He asks me and slides back to look at me better.
"Well... Will is the nicest of my two brothers. He is hardworking and very generous. It hasn't always been the case, but he has grown a lot. Even more so now that he is with Cynthia. Both my brothers have always wanted to be police officers from as far as I can remember. Clearly, being sacked didn't affect him that much, or if it did, he kept it to himself. We didn't have a close relationship growing up. First, because they were constantly nagging me. And when they got older and stopped, they left the house for the police academy, and I didn't see them often. After that, I moved in with Steeve, and since nobody ever really approved of him, we never really talked. I got used to it because there was nothing I could do about it. I think it would have stayed that way if you didn't encourage me to go back and see them. I'm blown away by the support I have received from my family. My brothers have changed so much since the last time I really spent time with them. I think we've all grown so much from what we've been through. I'm happy William wants to come here and see my world. It means a lot to me." I let out with the flow of my mind until I realised that I didn't remember what his question was. I chuckle a little and sigh.
"Tell me about your family. What was it like growing up with them?" He asks softly, not at all bored with my incessant rambling. He gets more comfortable next to me and looks directly at me.
I smile at him and look down, thinking back all those memories of all five together. I keep a very dear memory of the time I have with my family.
"My parents were working all the time, but thankfully they were off on weekends. Sunday was always family day. No one was allowed to have plans on Sundays. It was strictly us five playing board games with hot chocolate. I always took advantage of that time when Simon was sleeping in and played Scrabble with my parents. Sometimes, William would join. Dad has his collection of vinyls he would always play. Everyone had their favourites. For me, it was Fleetwood Mac or Billy Joel. My mum always voted to play Journey or Scorpions. William was all about Elton John. But Dad... Dad was all about Queen or Pink Floyd. I get my large various music taste from them." I smile to myself again and look back at him, patiently listening to me. He looks adorable, and I realise how lucky I am to be able to share whatever I have in my heart. "Sometimes, when I was young, and I couldn't sleep, I would catch my parents dancing in the dining room next to the radio listening to their Shania Twain vinyl. It's maybe weird, but I'll always picture my parents that way. Whatever might happen to them, I'll always see my parents embracing each other and dancing to songs like "From This Moment" or "Still The One". They have given me an idyllic vision of love, one that I have always aspired to."
He still looks at me intently with a happy grin hovering over his face. I don't know what he thinks about, but it intrigues me. I stop my story there and look at him without saying anything. We stay in silence for a couple of seconds before I succumb to my own curiosity.
"What are you thinking about?" I grin back at him, desperately wanting to know what makes him so happy.
He takes a moment, as always, before he responds. His eyes have never been gentler on me, and it exponentiates the love I have for him. I have my vulnerable Marcel in front of me.
He opens his mouth to speak but closes it immediately with a shake of his head. His hand reaches for my cheeks and pulls my face closer to him. His lips meet mine in a hurry, but he is surprisingly very tender instead of being the sex-driven man I have always known him to be.
I have never felt such giddiness and enjoyment in my life. I don't want it to end. I want to feel like that forever with him. Will it always be this way? Will I love him forever, or will it fade as it did with Steeve? No. At this moment, everything proves to me that my feelings are genuine and here to last.
He pulls me to him by the waist. Our bare skins are beautifully melting against one another. It's much more romantic than it is erotic, and I love that. I love that he doesn't turn to sex to show me how he feels anymore. His kiss tells me everything I need to know. It's loving and tender, but most of all, I feel like we understand each other more than ever.
I pull away from his addictive lips and get lost a second in his eyes. I swing both of my legs out of bed and put on my robe.
"What are you doing?" He says and rolls on the bed to lay more comfortably to fall back asleep.
"I want to dance with you." I let out and kneel on the bed to be by his side to insist that he gets up as well.
"Right now?" He whines and nuzzles his face deeper into the pillow.
"Yes, lazy arse. Get the fuck up." I smirk and crawl back to get out of the bed myself.
He straightens himself with a smirk on his lips, trying to seem insulted.
"Are you calling me lazy?" He says as my back is turned to him as I'm about to get out of the bed.
In no time, he catches me by the waist and throws me down on the mattress. He tries to roll me from the side so that I lay on my back to look at me, but his hands on my body only reveal that I am incredibly ticklish. He realises it, and oh does he use it to his advantage. It's like he is six again, and he tickles his sister. I have never seen him so playful. He is so amused in seeing me laugh that atrociously loud. It gets to a point where I am laughing so hard it hurts me. But I keep on my act a few seconds more because he is laughing so much. It's the cutest thing. He's never been so carefree. But I just can't stand it anymore.
"OK, Mace. You need to stop. I can't breathe." I beg him as he tests my limits but ultimately stops. He offers me his hand, and I straighten myself.
I get out of the bed and pull on his hand for him to follow me. I open the door and take back his left hand in mine. I walk backwards until he is out of the bedroom, and we enter the living room. I don't seem to realise he is only wearing his briefs. I love the way he looks at me. Even though he dominates me in every way in the bedroom, we are now out of it. I feel him completely drawn to me, and I revel in that power he gives me.
I put a hand on his shoulder and step closer to him. I try to remember the times Dad had shown me a few steps. I know I must be close to him. I know I must have a leg in between his to mould my body closer and more comfortably.
He looks down at me with a smile. He takes charge now. His hold is stronger. His hand on my back pulls me in a very tight embrace that makes me suck in a breath in surprise. I look up at him.
"Don't think. Just trust me." He whispers to me, his eyes insistent on mine.
I keep my eyes on his a moment, but as soon as he steps forward, I look down at our feet.
"Keep your eyes in mine. Trust me." He repeats, and I oblige.
There's something about the way he looks at me that makes it impossible for me to look away. I feel the pressure in my hand and on my back to step to the side. And as he said, I let go. He has complete control over my body. I lean into him, and he handles me with more speed and confidence. Never do I step on his toes or look down again. I am in awe of how smooth he moves us together. It's clearly not the first time he dances.
I hear him hum, and it makes me smile. I can feel the vibration through his chest against me as he starts to sing with a very low voice.
"My Funny Valentine..." He first sings, and his voice is smooth like honey. I swoon immediately.
I don't know whether I should look up at him or rest my head on his chest and let me sway. I decided to take in this moment and let myself be swayed.
"Sweet, comic Valentine..." He continues singing with a deep Sinatra-like voice that vibrates through me. It's so beautiful. I moan and hold him more romantically.
"You make me smile with my heart
Your looks are laughable
Unphotographable
Yet you're my favourite work of art
Is your figure less than Greek?
Is your mouth a little weak?
When you open it to speak
Are you smiling?
But don't change a hair for me..." He sings wonderfully, but that last line has me step back from leaning my head on his chest.
I look up at him instead. He said that lyric with a different intensity, and I see it in his eyes.
"Not if you care for me..." He continues his singing, but he stops dancing.
He takes my face with both of his hands. He looks directly into my eyes. I feel mesmerised and completely drawn to him. It's a force I have never felt that intensely before.
"Stay, little Valentine, stay." He now says the lyrics instead of singing them. It makes me shiver. This feels so much more intimate than any other time we made love. It's a raw and pure moment when he finishes the song and whispers, "each day is Valentine's Day."
I see him lick his lips before slowly leaning in. I close my eyes and breathe in, ready to feel his lips on mine. I feel his breath on my lips but never do I feel his kiss. I open my eyes to see him looking back at me, a playful smirk hanging on his lips as he leaves me hanging. I shake my head and smirk back at him. I get on the tip of my toes and quickly steal the peck he owed me.
I step back on the plant of my feet and take his hand. I tug it to pull him to sit on the couch with me. He takes a seat next to me, and I swing my legs on his lap. I move a little to mould more comfortably against him and sigh.
"I really do hope you realise how wonderful you are," I say and slowly look up at him. He has an immediate chuckle and rolls his eyes in response.
"You are such a sentimentalist." He mocks me with a smirk fatter than my bum.
"And who just sang to me while dancing?" I lift an eyebrow in judgment to his mockery.
"The things you make me do, Miss Hemingway..." He gets a bit theatrical, but it only makes me smile wider.
"And I love you for it!" I lean forward to kiss him, but in my hurry, I hurt my forehead against his. It hurts, but we both start laughing at my stupid clumsiness. "I'm so sorry..."
"Haha, it's OK." He laughs and rubs his forehand.
"I almost forgot about your appointment with your Professor tomorrow. I would have liked you to join my brother and me for our road trip to Edinburgh." I sigh with slight disappointment and look back at him.
"You're leaving tomorrow?"
"Yeah. I wanted to go see the boys on tour while I could. They'll be in the area." I let out, and I see it immediately in his eyes that he isn't pleased. "What's wrong? Is it that I'm leaving so soon or that Ash will be there?"
"What if I told you I feel for Ash the same way you feel for Kate?" He lets out with his teeth clenched. His comment really strikes a chord in me. It isn't the same, and he needs to know that.
"It's not the same, Marcel." I try to stay calm not to upset him.
"Yes, it is."
"No, it isn't. I did with Ash exactly as you did with Ronnie. He was a shag, and that's it." I let out to calm him as well. Ash is more than a shag. He is my friend, but Mace needs to understand.
"I had sex with Ronnie once." He tries to justify himself.
"And I had sex with Ash a little more than that, but that's all it was in both cases." I try to clarify and sigh, looking at him intently, not responding anything back. "I love you. Not him."
"And yet you always act the same with the both of us."
"I am friendly with him as I'm so much more than that with you. He may have touched my bare skin, but you have seen and touched my soul so many times. The connection I have with him is nothing compared to what we share."
"Still..."
"I'm not having this conversation anymore, Marcel. You'll have to understand that because you won't keep me from going to that show."
"Well, you have to understand that I don't like him at all."
"He gave you no reason for you to dislike him. Stop acting like a child." I am firm and direct. Will he ever understand?!
"I'm not acting like a child! If I told you I was seeing Kate this week, that she is the reason why I can't come to Edinburgh, what would you say?!"
"I would surely hope that you are not saying that just to upset me because if you are trying to make me jealous, it won't work."
"It's true. I have business with her next weekend."
"You're kidding, right?"
"No, I'm not."
"So she's the reason you won't be in Edinburgh to support me in my first ever book fair?!" I let out harshly, stepping back from him in disgust that he chose her over me again.
"Yes, we had something planned for weeks."
"And you see it being more important for you to be there with her instead of doing your job and being my editor if not my boyfriend?! I can't believe this." I stand up and look at him, not being able to stand him at this very moment. I really can't understand him. "I know she has been important for you in the past, but I'm here now. I don't want to erase the place she has for you. I want you to see that you have me, as a friend and a lover, for you to confide in. We're in this together for the long haul. And never will I manipulate you as she does. It's obvious even to you, so why don't you try to put a stop to it? It's toxic."
"Toxic?" He frowns harder than he already was and stands up in a rush.
"Marcel, you need to wake up." I face him and gesticulate a lot to support my point.
"So that's what you were talking about with Mum the other night?!" I saw the look of betrayal in his eyes, but I had no other choice. I did it for his own good because I love him! He needs to understand that.
"Indeed, yes!"
"You lied to me!" He turns his head to hide his emotion. He runs a hand through his messy locks before he faces me again when I start to argue again.
"We had to! It seems like you are still obsessed with her! Even your mum knew about it. She's not the woman you think she is."
"And you think you know her better than I do!? She has been there in the darkest moments of my life!! She was there when my dad died!"
"Exactly, Marcel! That's it! Your mum told me about her and how she was obsessed with your father. She told me Kate was in love with him while she was just an intern. Your mum got her fired because of her advances to your dad while they were married. And she was only trying to get revenge by getting you in love with her. And it worked, Marcel!" I let out furiously and shook my head as my sight sets upon him again. "It worked... For eleven years, you have been in love with her. For her, you have shut your mum out. And now, you are shutting me out. Just ask yourself if she is worth it all... And then make your choice— her or me. I won't stand being played like that. I deserve so fucking more than that."
I am categorical. He needs to open his eyes and see for himself how he is being played. He deserves so much more than that, as much as I do. I need him to realise it for himself and not to choose me because of an ultimatum. He needs to discover for himself how toxic she is for him, how she has changed him.
"What do you want me to respond to that?!" He puts both of his hands on his waist and looks at me with defiance. I don't know what he is waiting for me.
"Absolutely nothing. I want you to think it through and realise how deep you are being manipulated. Until then, I'll see you when I get back from Edinburgh. And you'll get to see for yourself how much you are being played when you see her this weekend. I really hope you'll have made your decision between her and me then. You may be the love of my life, Mace, but if I'm not yours, I don't want to waste either of our time." I let out even though it pains my heart greatly to be back on the roller coaster again. It seems to be a ride that will never stop...
I walk to my room quickly and gather his clothes at the end of the bed. He sees me come back and seems even more hurt than he was feeling betrayed seconds ago.
"Are you throwing me out?"
I don't know what he was expecting to do now that we have argued so passionately. I feel disgusted by him at the very moment. And I don't think we'll solve anything today, not until he has met her this weekend and seen for himself how manipulated he has been. How can he be so oblivious still!?
"Like hell I am. To have the rose, I'm willing to bear the thorns, Marcel, but not the snake."