Chapter Twenty-Two (Xed)
Newell flopped on the bed once we returned to the hotel room.
And the part that made me stop was the fact that he was smiling. It was a genuine smile that fell across those perfectly soft petal lips as he lay there sprawled out on his back, his long black hair thrown across the white blankets and sheets. It was a stark contrast, and an oddly beautiful one at that.
"So, what now?" Daimonas asked, plopping down on his bed and picking up his dolphin toy. Newell gave pause that, frowning thoughtfully before sitting up slowly. He leaned back on his hands, his ponytail tossed over his shoulder.
"We wait," He said at last, looking up at Daimonas and I, "Tomorrow morning we'll head to the air port and take the first plane to London. Once we arrive, I'll put a call into Vladimir and he'll send us enough money to purchase a flat in London. I'll make a few calls and see if I can find a good private school to send you too."
"What's a private school again?" Daimonas asked, scrunching up his nose. Newell rolled his eyes.
"A private school is better than a public school. Of course, it'll probably cost a lot of money to get you in, but it'll be worth it so we don't run into the same problems as we did in San Francisco." He muttered, getting up off the bed. Daimonas blinked and looked at Newell in confusion.
"What problems?" He asked cluelessly. I frowned at Newell, who didn't answer. He was referring to the fact that Daimonas had actually made friends at his old school. It was a good thing, to most children, but apparently not for Daimonas, which bothered me. I didn't want Daimonas to be limited to only us; that's not how people learned. They learned through being amongst others, and as someone who lived with a large group my entire life, I understood that.
And I also understood why it was a foreign concept to Newell. He grew up alone. He had no real friends and classmates. He was taught privately by tutors that his father had hired, but we couldn't afford that and it would only draw attention to us. Even sending Daimonas to a private school was a bit dangerous because they were going to demand a lot of information and I wasn't sure how we were going to fake it all.
"Fine," Daimonas huffed at last, scooting back so he was up against the pillow at the headboard of his bed, "But you have to get me things I want."
"If it'll keep you entertained." Newell answered dryly, making Daimonas roll his eyes. Daimonas turned on the television while Newell put his clothes away. I watched them both, but mostly Newell because I was antsy. Was he purposely trying to torment me?
Especially now, with the way he was stooped over to put things into his suitcase. The black slacks he wore hugged his ass firmly, the shirt sliding up just a bit so I could see his lower back. It was harder to control the urge to push him down and take him. The last thing I needed to do was anger him or scare him. Newell wasn't used to sexual advances-- the one exception being that he was drunk the last time he intiated something.
Actually, he was drunk every time he tried something.
Which is why he probably hasn't been drinking as much lately. Surprisingly, it bothered me both that he wouldn't drink just because it would result in something between us and because he didn't want to do it. It didn't make sense to me.
"Xed, what are you doing?" Newell's voice cut into my train of thoughts and I blinked, looking up to see him staring at me, having pulled his shirt off so it was at his elbows. His icy stare pierced through me suspiciously, but I didn't bother to hide the fact that he was arousing. He dropped his eyes to the bulge in my leather pants before they shot back up to my eyes. It was difficult to read his expression.
"Okay," Daimonas said, dragging the word out and shutting off the television, "I'm just gonna visit the restaurant downstairs in the hotel. When you two are done doing whatever, I'll be back." Newell shot him a warning glare, but Daimonas ignored it and hurried from the room. I took a step toward Newell and he looked back at me quickly, stepping away. I frowned and cocked my head in questioning. Did he not want me to touch him? Wasn't this one of the things that had made our relationship complicated in the first place?
"Uhm," Newell avoided my eyes now, looking around at his things, "So, if you have anything you need to pack, you should do it. I might run out to grab a few things in a bit to take with us on our trip, so let me know if you need anything, like razors, or..." His voice trailed as I walked right up to him. I pulled the shirt off his arms and dropped it on the floor. Newell blinked, then looked up at me, his eyes wide. I frowned and gave my foot an impatient stamp to indicate I was tired of his avoiding the subject. Newell almost flinched, but caught himself and cleared his throat, stepping back from me.
"Don't throw things on the floor. If you're going to make a mess, clean it up." He scolded, making me glare at him. He ignored me swiftly as he pushed me aside and stooped to pick up his shirt. I narrowed my eyes and grabbed him around the waist. Newell yelped as I heaved him up and around, tossing him on the bed. Even with him at this age, this height, in this body, he was still as light as a feather to me.
Newell gasped, bouncing on the bed for a moment, trying to take in what I had just done. I kicked my boots off and got on the bed, grabbing Newell's booted foot and wrenching the boot off. Newell stared at me, looking flabbergasted. I went to take his other boot off, but he shoved his socked foot into my face to push me back.
"Stop!" Newell snapped. I caught him by the ankle and shoved his leg down on the bed so his foot was out of my face. I used my other hand to rip his boot off, causing the zipper to pop off and clatter to the floor. I tossed the other boot to the floor and then caught the legs of Newell's pants.
"I said stop!" Newell shouted and reached over, grabbing a handful of my hair to jerk my head up so we were glaring at each other. We were both breathing hard, faces flushed. I waited for Newell to say something, but he just kept glaring at me, accusingly. At first, this moment didn't register as bad.
Newell owed me this. He wouldn't let me touch him when he was small, and he still wouldn't let me touch him now that his body had grown? After everything he'd put me through, all the orders and bossing me around and refusal to let me see his body?
And then my fury faded as I realized what I had been about to do. I instantly let go of Newell's legs, Newell letting go of my hair, and scrambled back off the bed, standing at the foot. Newell stared at me now, leaning back on his hands, his legs bent at the knees and spread out on the bed. It wasn't an invitation, though.
And I had almost...
Shame burned deep in the pit of my stomach and instantly put out the fire in my groin. I felt cold now, terrible really. How could I have done that? My intention wasn't to scare him or force him, and yet I went ahead and did it anyway.
Newell still wasn't saying anything. He was just staring at me with this look on his face like he was trying to figure out if I was actually who I said I was. What had just happened to me?
Without a word or indication, I left the hotel room and went downstairs to the pool. Thankfully, no one was occupying it as it was late and most people had gone to the party that was being held just a block down by a fancy restaurant. I shut all the blinds and locked the door before I stripped off my clothes and dove into the pool head first, despite the sign that warned me not to.
I didn't care if I hit my head on the bottom of the pool. I deserved it, and so much more. I swam to the bottom of the pool, feeling the transformation bend and break my bones, twist and churn my flesh, scales riding out over top of the human flesh. I sank to the bottom and sat, staring down at my tail, the fins gently swaying with the water. I squeezed my eyes shut and slammed my fist into the bottom of the pool, making the water shudder and twirl as a reaction.
It didn't understand why I was angry, and it would never understand. The water didn't make mistakes. The water was bipolar, sure. It could become angry and violent, then soft and calm, but it never made mistakes as badly as I had just done. Guilt lodged in my throat. I drew my tail up, resting my arms across where my knees would most likely be after the transformation took place again. I rested my head downwards, shutting my eyes, only to have a simple phrase pop into my head.
Sia mosna de maleki yon.
It was something my father had often told us after we had failed a hunt due to someone making one mistake or anything. It had no exact translation to English, but the best way to describe it was that there were often storms at sea and sometimes those storms killed people, but the sea made up for it by taking the people and giving them a chance at rebirth as a creature of the sea. There was always a way to make up for a mistake, but how I could I make up for what I had almost done to Newell?
I had lost control over myself.
"Meni," My father used to say, "You are young still. There will be many times when you doubt yourself and many times when you are done with patience, and many say that only humans are imperfect and make mistakes. It is not true. All things are imperfect, even the gods. It is what makes us perfect. Trilis yon sia cres." Do not fret.
But how could I not fret? I had almost made a horrible, terrible mistake.
I growled impatiently at myself, then tilted my head up to stare at the surface of the water.
Gods, what do I do?
A second later, I saw a shape moving above the water. I frowned, confused for a moment until I realized it was Newell leaning over the side of the pool. I watched as he sat down on the edge of the pool and dropped his bare legs into the water. I stared at those long, slender white legs and his petite feet that swayed under the water. I wondered how he could get in if it was locked, but Newell always found a way.
He wiggled his toes at me. I hesitated for a moment, then reined in my control and emotions. I pushed off the bottom of the pool with my hands and swam up to Newell's feet beneath the water. He moved his foot and touched his toe to my lip. I kissed his toe gently, cupping his heel in my palm, savoring the way the water cradled him.
I waited and Newell pushed his toe to my lips again. I kissed his toe again, then laid a mass of gentle little pecks on his foot. I kissed the tips of all his toes, the pads of his feet, the top, until I came up to his ankle. I ran my hands down either side of his legs down to his feet as I kissed my way up to his knees, emerging from the water and peering up at him through my wet hair.
Newell looked down at me through hooded eyes, reaching out carefully. My heart leapt as he ran his fingers through my hair, nails scraping my scalp gently. I looked up at him as he stared down at me in the water.
"Bisla mo." I whispered at last, the words of apology for my people. I rarely used them, so when I did, they were much stronger than when most people did. Newell stared at me for a moment longer in silence, and I expected him to scold me or something, anything, but he didn't. He just sighed, then leaned over and kissed me on the forehead, drawing me closer to him as he hugged my head to his stomach. I laid my head against him, listening to the sound of his heart pulse, his blood rush.
"I was being unfair," Newell said at last, making me pull back to raise an eyebrow at his attempt at an apology, to which he wrinkled his nose in a way that reminded me of the way he did it when he was small-- and either way it was adorable, "I was. I didn't... pay attention to that. I mean, it was honestly the first thing that came into my head, but..." His voice trailed. I frowned, tilting my head as I put my hands on his knees, leaning closer so I was looking right up into his face as he tried to look down. He smiled faintly at that.
"But?" I prompted.
"But," Newell continued quietly, averting his eyes, "I wasn't comfortable."
"Not comfortable?" I asked, confused. What was uncomfortable about it? Well, aside from the physical aspect of sex. That would be uncomfortable for a while, during and after. I had no doubt about it because it seemed to me that no matter what size Newell was, I was always going to be bigger, in a lot of ways. Newell's cheeks darkened, almost as if he knew what I had been thinking.
"I'm just not ready yet." Newell stated, sitting up straight, arms over his chest, and head turned away from me dismissively. I tried not to smile at that, because I'm sure he'd probably take it the wrong way. Of course he wasn't ready. I had been too impatient and too reckless. We couldn't jump right into it if Newell wasn't ready, and it didn't help that I had probably unnerved him about the whole idea with my impatience.
"I understand." I replied. Newell hesitated.
"You do?"
"Yes," I answered calmly, rubbing his knees and making him shiver, "It is up to you. I will not force you to do what you do not want to do. I was rude and I was impatient and I will not make that mistake again. I respect you... and I love you." Newell blushed.
"I can't believe, with all the women that fawn over you, that you still insist that you love me." He muttered, reaching up to cover his face in embarrassment. I smiled.
"What women?" I asked. Newell rolled his eyes, resisting a smile. I leaned forward and kissed him on the knee, sinking back a bit into the water so I could wet my dorsal fin. We were silent for a while; Newell watched me float in the water and I watched him sit. Then he finally spoke.
"How do your people say hello?" He asked. I cocked my head. He'd never asked about my language before. It was curious that he'd want to know now, but I didn't say anything about it, just responded.
"Maleki yon va." I responded. Newell frowned.
"Mah-leh-kee yawn vah?" He asked, pronouncing it slowly. I shook my head and held a finger up as I spoke, crooking it each time I pronounced a syllable.
"Mah-leh-keeyohn vah. Yon is not a long particle."
"So, yon is sort of like the and a."
"Somewhat, yes. There is no exact translation for most of our language, but I am giving you what is closest."
"Then how do you say goodbye?" Newell asked. I was a little thrilled that Newell wanted to speak my language. I hadn't spoken it in so long. I missed the sound of it, the way it lilted and the way it sounded more like singing than speaking. And hearing Newell say the words made my heart flutter.
"Maleki mo van." I told him. Newell frowned thoughtfully.
"Mah-leh-kee moh vahn?" He tried. I nodded, then paused before smiling slowly.
"Bis lila vos." I told him. Newell raised an eyebrow, leaning his hands on the edge of the pool.
"What does that mean?" He asked. I smiled.
"I love you." I responded. Newell's cheeks pinkened as he stared at me for a moment. He nibbled his lower lip, trying to force his blush away, but it only made him blush further before he spoke quietly.
"Bees lee-la vohs." He said slowly.
"I love you too." I replied. Newell scoffed, but he was trying to hide a smile. He shifted a little, then sat up and looked down at me.
"What else? I want to know more. Plenty of people can speak English and Spanish and French and Chinese, but not many people can speak your language." He added. I nodded and continued to teach him a few of the simpler terms, watching his eyes light up whenever he pronounced something right. For once, I was the one teaching someone else something. It was nice to actually be asked about something that I knew about, rather than being the one taught about the world on land.
"Bisos." I told him.
"Bees-ohs. Which means...?" Newell asked. I smiled.
"Kiss me." I responded. Newell scowled.
"This is a language lesson, not a chance for you to be perverted." He scolded. I shrugged, only to have Newell reach out, taking my face in his hands. He kissed me gently on the lips, just a simple lip-to-lip kiss, but I decided to tease him a little and swept my tongue over his lower lip. Much to my surprise, his lips parted and his tongue came out to meet mine. I growled low in my throat at the taste of his mouth against mine, his tongue timidly poking around. He wasn't experienced, but that didn't matter because neither was I. To me, the kiss was perfect and made my body harden with desire.
Finally, we broke apart to breath. I sank into the water up to my neck, looking up at Newell, who caught his breath and looked down at me.
"What's the word for delicious?" He asked me with a deadpan expression. I couldn't resist and laughed.
"Delci."
"Deal-see."
"Yes."
"Ah. Well, then. You're rather delci."
"You as well, Newell."