"I have never asked about your tattoos." I comment as I run the tip of my finger on his arm, lying comfortably in his bed.
"There's not much to tell." He only responds and somehow I am not surprised.
"Why? If you have them on your skin they must mean something..." I look at the one on the arm I am caressing and read it out loud. "Things I can, what does it mean?"
"It only reminds me that there are things I can change in my life and that there are things I can't change."
"That's what you have on your other arm, isn't it? Things I can't?"
"Yes."
"Towards what? Why do you have to remind yourself of that?" I wait for a response, but he doesn't talk, so I try to precise my question to get him to answer me. "Is it towards life in general or towards something that happened to you in the past?"
"The past... Towards--" He stops himself and clears his throat as I see him tense up.
Just as I am about to tell him to let it go and not speak about the things he doesn't feel at ease to share, he speaks again with a deep low voice.
"Towards my dad."
I feel bad to make him remember his death. I don't know what happened, if it was tragic or not, but I know that losing your parent at fifteen mustn't be the easiest thing. Just as he is going through puberty, school --he was probably being bullied at that time too--, his dad dies. It just adds to all the complicated things he was going through already.
Until now, I was keeping a safe barrier between us as he is not used to all the affection I would want to give him. I also remember how he didn't like Ronnie being clingy, so I give him his distance, feeling emotionally close instead of physically, and I am very happy with that, but seeing him that way just draws me to comfort him. So, I just take his hand from the arm I was caressing and kiss his palm. I look at him in silence, until he gazes back at me. He licks his lips and takes control of his hand to cup gently my cheek. He is giving me affection now and there's nothing that could make my heart race harder in my chest.
He doesn't say a word, he just looks at me. I know he won't talk about it further with me tonight. But I feel so happy to have had him talk that much to me at all. We are taking a step in the right direction and I somehow know that, for once, we won't step back from it, that we might keep moving forward.
He pulls my face towards him as he rolls his body entirely on me. My legs absentmindedly part to invite him on me, moulding together like two puzzle pieces. I don't know what he thinks about but it fuels his fire with which he kisses me. His lips take their time on mine and I let him completely guide the pace. I ravish in feeling this side of him, it makes it worth all of the others. I embrace his chest closer to mine as he seems to tell me more with his body and his actions than he ever did with words.
What happened to him? Is this truly all so new to him? Does he want me to be affectionate towards him? Is he at least feeling something for me? How did I fall for him? Why is he the one making me feel that way? Is this something as special as I think it is? Why does he remind me of the lover in my story? Am I trying to make him become this protagonist, born from my fantasies?
I tear myself out of my thoughts when his lips leaves mine to kiss their way down to my chest. He lifts the shirt I have on to expose my skin to meet with the warmth of his breath. He not only kisses his way down, crawling back to make of my biggest fantasy a reality, but he devours me.
I feel both completely aroused and terrified. Nobody ever kissed me down there and I can see clearly that he intends to. My heart is racing as my eyes can't stop looking at him. But before any complex gets to me and my mind makes him stop, he smiles with a dimple that makes me melt as he looks up and his eyes meet mine.
"There's the ginger I wanted to see." He whispers against my core, lust clearly overtaking the spark in his eyes.
Without breaking our eye contact, I can feel the smoothness of his lips on me, where no one has been before. It's so sensible that the slight pressure of his tongue makes me moan instantly. My hips start to sway with the movement of his mouth, but he stops me by taking a hold of my hips with both of his hands. His grip is so tight that I feel like he is carving his way literally inside of me.
I have never felt such a bliss before. I don't know if it's him or the whole oral sex thing, but my high builds up very quickly. It gets our intimacy to a whole new level and he just makes me feel greater than I have ever been.
I run a hand in his hair, both combing it out of the way to look at him better and to grab a hold of it. His eyes meet mine again and I feel his hand release my hip to caress its way upwards to my breast. His thumb rubs circularly my hard nipple as he cups it with his large palm.
"Oh my God..." I let out despite of myself and catch my breath a second as he keeps on sucking my core.
His tongue sways its way on my entire length and awakes nerves I didn't even know I had. He surprises me by flickering it delightfully directly on my mountain of pleasure and I can't help but to pull his head closer to me, feeling now the gentle pressure of his nose as well.
"Marcel... Oh my..." I moan to him as my back starts to arch and my toes point their way deeper into the mattress, my legs as wide as I can have them. My free hand rushes on his on my breast to have the more contact with him as I can.
I hold my breath before I get hit by the most electric of charges that drains all my energy out of me. My legs start to shake, my vision starts to blur as oxygen is missing from my brain. I keep on sucking in my breath to feel every wave of the strongest high I have ever felt in my entire life.
I moan so loudly as I finally breathe again. All my tensed muscles let go and fall on the mattress. My grip on him loosens to eventually let him free. I look at the ceiling, panting hard.
I am too focused on getting back all my senses that I don't feel Marcel moving away from me. I look at him in a hurry and pull him back on me, which makes him literally fall on me, losing balance, and I rush my lips on his. I cup both of his cheeks and pull him harder to me, sharing some of the bliss he has just made me experience. I never thought somebody could feel that way. It was soooo great. How could he have procured that to me? Is it normal? But he steps away with a slight frown.
"Why are you kissing me? Are you not disgusted?" He asks me and I hold my laugh. Why would I be disgusted if he was the one down there?
"I don't mind it, if you don't." I honestly let out, to not get paranoid to what he might be thinking about. If he was disgusted... "Nobody ever did that to me."
"You never had oral sex before?" He kind of smirks and falls next to me on the mattress, keeping a nice proximity.
"Steeve never wanted to. It disgusted him to even think about it." He rolls his eyes in response and I get pleased to have him on my side. "I think that he didn't want to try something that wouldn't pleasure him as well."
"What a jerk..." He lets out and I look down, focusing on the high still inside of me that is slowly fading away, my body still trembling. "Did you like it?" He shyly asks and it gets me to look back up at him.
I smile and bite my lip as I nod to him relentlessly, but slowly.
"Did you?" I ask in response, getting worried about him not getting any pleasure back.
"You were so receptive, it would have been hard not to."
"Receptive?"
"Nobody ever encouraged me like you did."
"How did I encourage you?" I frown, but with a smile on my lips as he seems to be happy about it, but the truth is I have no clue how I could have.
"From the way your body reacted, your moans, your hand in my hair, you saying my name, when you caressed yourself with my hand on your breast, it all made it so much more fun for me to know just how intensely you were at my mercy. And you came so quickly..."
"Was I too quick? Is it usually how it goes?" I worry and hate myself to have said something like that.
"No, it was perfect. It just means how excited you were. I have never seen an orgasm hit a woman so hard before, you are still trembling."
So that's how an orgasm feels like?! I definitely never had one of those before, well nothing near what I just felt that is. If only he knew how wonderful he makes me feel inside.
I rush my lips on his and I am met halfway by his tongue welcoming my mouth moulding against his. How I wish that this night would never end...
I step back from our kiss and snuggle carefully myself against his chest. He feels awkward a second because his body is so tensed, but once he relaxes, he embraces me back and it feels very good.
"Thank you." He whispers to my ear softly.
"What for?" I respond and close my eyes, being so comfortable against the warmth of his embrace, my head nuzzled against his neck as his rests on mine.
"For trusting me... with your story... with your body..."
With my heart...
-
I wake up peacefully and happy. I have slept like a baby and it has been a long time since I have. It takes a small second to decide whether or not I want to fall back asleep or get up, but the idea to wake to Marcel is taking over me.
I smile and stretch slowly as I open my eyes. I slide my arm on the empty side of the bed next to me and look at it. I crawl to his side and look at the time. It's already past ten. No wonder he isn't in bed. He is so sweet to have let me sleep in.
I stay between the sheets a minute more to snuggle against his pillow and take in his scent. I can't believe a man as wonderful as he is has an interest in me. I have never been in a relationship where attractions were based on similarities and interests as well as personality and not pure infatuation.
With Steeve, when I changed my hair and with puberty, he somewhat got infatuated by me somehow and decided to protect me. I wasn't used to the male attention at all. It felt so good. I was a virgin and I was tired to be one, so I didn't make any case when he took it. We were making out and then, out of the sudden, he was inside me. I don't really remember it. Thinking about it now, he kind of raped me. He didn't ask me if I was ready or if I wanted to. He just did it. It lasted maybe thirty seconds and that hasn't really improved with time, but that was all I was used to, so I contented myself with that. I found pleasure where I could. It doesn't even compare to what Marcel made me feel last night. This whole sense of unity is new to me. It wasn't lustful like it was with Ash. I was very aroused by Mace, but it was more consuming than that. It was wonderful... I am almost scared that we will never hit another high like we did last night.
I sigh and get out of the bed to get dressed with the clothes I had last night. I look quickly back at the bed and decide to make it, like he did with mine when he had come to Sophie's flat two weeks ago.
I take a look around the room. It's white and all of his furniture is made of black cedarwood. He has an alarm clock on his nightstand. It's very old fashioned not to use his phone, but it charms me. He has a lamp and two books on the corner. One of Bukowski, Love Is A Dog From Hell and Herman Hesse's Siddharta. I have heard of them, but never read any. There's also a cute picture of young Marcel with his parents on a beach. Being shirtless, I can see the birthmark on his abdomen, which was way darker, no bigger than it is today. It makes me extremely sad to know how much he was bullied on something he did not have control on.
I leave the room mostly to keep me from snooping too much. I walk to the kitchen right across the corridor and don't find him.
"Marcel?" I call him, but keep looking around.
The kitchen is a mess. It truly is. There's a flour bag on the counter and pretty much flour spread everywhere on it. There's a tea kettle on the stove and a half drunk cup by the flour. Our two mugs from last night are in the sink and he wrapped the plate of cookies. They were good. I wonder if he did them himself... Is he a good cook? Does he know I am? I run back memories in my head of the time we cooked together at my flat when he came over last week. It was truly fun.
I hear a sound coming from the living room, so I get over there, to find absolutely no one, but I don't find nothing... I walk over to the entrance sharing the living room space and see a cute little friend I had completely forgotten about.
"Hey Michelangelo! Have you seen your master today? Where has he gone?" I ask him as if I was talking to a child, clearly not looking for an answer, but hoping that maybe Marcel would react to me talking to his turtle. But there's nothing. "Did he feed you today?"
I take the little advertised turtle food and open the jar. I take a slim pinch and open the fish tank to feed him. I see its little neck come out of its shell to come to me. I drop the food right over him and close everything. I come back to the kitchen to wash my hands and realise that I haven't seen the bathroom before. I walk to the door next to the bedroom and find it closed. I knock, to not walk in on Marcel on the loo, but I don't hear an answer.
"Marcel? Are you in there?" I knock again and speak loud for him to hear me.
As I don't hear anything, I walk in the room, surprised to not find it locked. If he was in there, he would have locked it. The air is humid and it smells nice. The mirror is slightly blurred from the vapour. The shower is wet. But no, Marcel. There's still one room to search him in. I decide to close the door and use the loo before continuing my quest.
I wash my hands and fold the hand towel before putting it back on the rack. I leave the bathroom and head to the last room in his flat, praying to find him there. He must be, why would he leave me here alone?! I open the door and walk inside of what I find to be his study. I turn on the light and find no fucking Marcel inside. I see a big desk in the middle of the room with cork walls, pined with many Post-It's. I get distracted from my main purpose as my curiosity is peaked. I walk inside the room and instantly find his laptop at the centre of his desk. I see my book, printed, with different pictures of me over it. He has selected his favourite, it has yet again another sticker on it, with a date and the word 'Photoshoot' written on it. He also has a few sketches of what the cover could look like. These are all stuff I don't know a thing about. I hope we will work on it soon. But he said he has to work on his thesis, so it will have to wait a moment. Yet again, where the fuck is he if he has to work?!
I get out of the room and make my way back to the living room to find my purse. Of course, I have no cell phone anymore since I left mine at Stee's the other day. I quickly look around to see if Marcel wouldn't have a home line, which of course he hasn't. So I have no idea where I am or how to reach anyone. I am furious. He left me alone, he didn't even write a note to tell me where he would be going or when he will be back. I mean, who leaves his flat with his date still inside. Date? Hook up? Friend?! I mean, what am I?! He told me he didn't want to label us. OK, but I did just feed your turtle! I think I deserve something!
I roll my eyes and fall on the couch thinking it all through. Why would he leave me here? Why would I have to stay?! He didn't have the decency to tell me where he was going, so I will leave without saying a fucking word.
I get back up and gather my belongings and put my boots where I had left them in the entrance. I open the door and get out slowly. I have no other choice than to leave it unlocked. I can't believe he abandoned me like that. I am so mad at him. We shared a special moment together and, now that he had what he wanted from me, he leaves me like a rotten fruit. 'The purest' he had said to me in Manchester. Yeah, bite me, Marcel!
I rush down the first floor of stairs and meet face to face with Eddy. I freeze on place and don't know whether to engage in a conversation or to let him through and leave.
"Hi! Oh my God... Did you just come out of Marcel's?" He smiles at me and looks up to see both of their doors facing the other from across the corridor.
I don't know what to answer, but he looks at my clothes and quickly realise I just did as the smirk grows on his lips.
"That's a first." He says proudly and it makes me curious.
"What do you mean?"
"Nobody ever goes there. I think I went there two or three times maybe. I have never seen his mum or the Wicked Witch there..."
"The 'Wicked Witch'?"
"Yeah... The woman he was obsessed with for too long. Anyway, so that means good if you were there. I am actually very happy."
"I am not."
"I don't know if I should be surprised about that... What did he do?"
"Lots actually, but I forgave it all. I am trying my best to be understanding, but he can't just leave me alone in his flat like that and don't tell me where he's going."
"Why don't you just text him?"
"I don't have my phone."
"I'll text him, to see if he has a good excuse." He smiles down as he takes out his phone to start typing.
"Thanks, but I would rather stay mad at him."
"Ha ha. He makes it so easy for us." He jokes as he sends the text and looks up at me.
"Are you two really close?"
"We weirdly are. He doesn't talk much, so he just comes over when he wants to hang out, we drink beer and play guitar. Nice times."
"He plays the guitar?"
"I taught him when the Wicked Witch left him. I had to change his mind some way and that lad is such a quick learner, it was really fun to teach him something for once." He smiles so brightly that I feel an unspoken connection between us because of Marcel. He frowns a second and signs me to follow him as he makes his way up to his flat. "Come, it will be more pleasant to talk seated."
"It's very nice of you and I hope I will see you very soon, but I really must get going. I am sorry. I am too mad to wait for him. Can you just tell me where we are?" I ask him very quickly as I get down two stairs and look back up at him.
"Strand. When you come out, turn left and then turn right and walk maybe ten minutes, you'll see the Wright Books building. We are close to King's College, next to Somerset. He just texted me saying 'busy', I think he must be at work. It's... 10:30, he should be at work.. He usually is there at 8, right after gym."
"You know his schedule?"
"That man is set like a clock, always stuck in his routine."
"Do you happen to know at what time he feeds Michelangelo?" I frown and joke, but at the same time, I want to know if he hasn't been overfed this morning because of me.
"It's usually before going to sleep."
"Then, that turtle got a treat." I smirk at him and keep on climbing down the stairs, looking up at Eddy. "Have a nice day. Enjoy your tour."
"Thanks." He smiles at me with a shy wave before I climb down faster and get out of the building.
By the time I get outside, I am back at being mad. I am just so oblivious to why he would leave me alone that way. Was he running from me, not wanting to face me this morning? Eddy made me smile and it was nice to be acquainted, but I can't brush off the fact that Marcel seems to be using me. I should have known. I told him I wanted to take things slow and I jumped right into his pants when he asked me to. I think I am more mad at myself than at him. I don't know why I would have followed him last night. I could have stayed with Ash and the band...
I turn the corner of the street like Eddy had told me and frown to myself.
No...
No matter how mad I am at him, what I felt last night was incredible and I would never take it back. I just so badly don't want it to end. But clearly, feeling wise, we don't speak the same language.
He is making me go crazy...
"Grace!" I hear my name being called and look immediately around.
It takes some time to realise that it's Marcel running my way at an incredibly fast pace, but what puzzles me even more is the bleeding nose and the blood on his clothes that stands out on his white polo and beige trousers.
.