☆☆☆ Chapter 50 ☆☆☆
Her Simple Man
The soft purring of the air conditioner in the room guided me into waking up, only to find myself surrounded by darkness when my eyes got around to opening up. Well, to be fair, there was some light coming in from the windows 'cuz of the moon, but the night was no longer young. It was old, calm. It was probably sometime after twelve o'clock.
A yawn had me try to fix myself under the covers for sleep's sake, but I quickly realized there was no need to, had I been capable of moving in the first place. One of my arms was under my loving boyfriend's neck, and the other was over him, holding him against me by the small of his back. My chin was buried under his gentle waves, and a side of his face rested on my chest. With the hold I had on my sleeping Daniel, I was content, and warm enough. I closed my eyes and fell asleep again.
Except I couldn't. I tried to, but I couldn't.
Every silent breath that came out of Daniel tickled me just slightly, just enough to keep me awake, but I was way too comfortable to do anything about it. Instead, I decided to take in the moment, bask in it, 'cuz I might as well. Earlier in the night, I let a moment run its course with me, and the best of things happened── I was finally able to trace my fingers down his back and up his chest, without a shirt to keep me from the feel of his soft skin. What could possibly go wrong 'bout letting a moment take over again?
Heaven was on my side. I had an angel all to myself on the bed, after all.
I put my head down to his hair and took in a deep whiff of it. Its scent was like no other in the world. It was Daniel's own, unsullied by the earthly smells of cologne and shampoo. His whole bed had his scent, but it wasn't as concentrated as Daniel himself. It made me think of nothing but heaven, truly. I couldn't even compare myself to him. I was nothing next to him── whether the daylight's present or not, it didn't matter. All I saw was light 'round him. As a person who has done so much wrong, I was far from having such a presence, but I was blessed to be right next to one. No, I was simply lucky. I may not even deserve it or be good enough for him, but here Daniel was, beside me, trusting me with his love.
I found myself giving his waves a kiss when Daniel adjusted his position mid-sleep. It gave the arm under him a bit of more freedom, enough for me to slide it away from him, but did I really want to?
The answer came to me when, as if by divine intervention, my eyes happened to land on the dark figure of his wardrobe, where his safe hid away things I'm sure were far beyond the sensitive documents he told me of. I don't know, something within me pushed me to believe that. A certain curiosity did, one that could go away with just a touch or look at Daniel's smooth cheeks, but did I really want it to go away?
The chance to check things out has presented itself after all, right in front of me. Sure, there's no way that I'll be able to open it all of a sudden, but if I give it a try maybe I can be a lil' lucky. It won't hurt to try. Worst case scenario, I can push him into opening it when he wakes up, and if he objects to it in any way, that'll be the surefire way for me to know that he's hiding something there.
Why not give it a try?
☆☆☆
Curiosity killed the cat. Curiosity bites back. It's a known thing or hearsay or whatever. One that has proven itself to be true, at least to me. It's what led me into the rabbit hole of problems at the hotel. If only I hadn't followed Hilery around, I would've been fine. I would have never known about her relationship with Joel, or of Joel's chilling lack of humanity, or anything about Roger, or even of the type of people Daniel might be attracted to besides me. Too many things hit me all at once back then. Too many things could hit me all at once now. Did I need to know whatever it was that Daniel was hiding? Would it hurt me? What if it's nothing and I'm making a fool of myself by making a big deal about it? Ugh, this is a déjà vu moment for me, isn't it?
I let myself sigh as my thumb and index finger worked their way into putting in the first set of numbers that came to my mind: 092171. The sigh quickly turned to a laugh I could barely hide.
Unlike before, the curiosity I'm feeling won't lead me anywhere. A safe is a safe. This is just me being nosy for no good reason. I'm invading my angelic boyfriend's space. Pulling his shirt up was one thing, but this thing I'm pulling is on a whole other level of disrespect, isn't it? I'm ridiculous. Now I know the next thing to talk to Dr. Connor 'bout.
Click.
I couldn't believe my ears, but at the same time, an odd part of me wasn't surprised. September twenty-first, nineteen-seventy-one. Of course Daniel's lock combination would be my birthdate. Now I really wanted to laugh. As I slapped a hand over my mouth, I turned and gave Daniel a glimpse over my shoulder. His bare, spotless (if hickeys don't count) back faced me. A pillow peeked its way out from between his thighs, which were hidden from me by the bright red shorts that refused to let me see anything above his kneecaps. They were my next target to strip off. Someday. Respectfully.
From the looks of it, he wasn't going to be waking up anytime soon. Maybe I could laugh out loud?
No no, I shouldn't risk it.
As I swung the safe's door open, over a million thoughts and questions rammed themselves into my head: what if he was just hiding a diary? I wouldn't put it past Daniel to have something like that. Would I read it if that's what I end up finding? But what if it's not a diary? What if it's something concerning── and what would I do if that's the case? And what if it's nothing? Should I admit to what I'm doing and apologize? How would he feel about it? Wait, but hasn't he stalked me? Hasn't he taken away my privacy by doing that? His thoughts about me stem from that, don't they? I said I didn't care anymore, but it does give me leverage. It makes me think that what I'm doing's fair game. But then again──
My mind stopped racing at the sight of manila envelopes. Most were the standard color, a light orange, but others were gray. They were neatly stacked on both racks of the safe, color coded.
I didn't think twice 'bout looking into one of them, just to confirm that there were nothing but plain old documents in the safe. A birth certificate met my eyes soon enough, or at least that's what I think it was. I couldn't make up anything that it said 'xcept for Daniel's full name and his parents' 'cuz everything else was in Spanish. Well, aside from his birthdate, which was pretty close to mine. Take away two years from my own, and we were basically birthday buddies. Only days apart from each other's. Not like I would've known before we dated though, unlike him. Just how much did he know about me, exactly?
I placed the envelope back to where it was and shook my head.
I didn't need to look into the contents of any other envelope to know that Daniel was right, that there was nothing in his safe but documents. He wasn't hiding anything. Closing the safe made me feel bummed out. There was nothing that grabbed my attention in his safe, nothing.
Ha! As if I would give up that easily! That's what a part of me wanted to do, but instead, I did more digging. I know, it's ridiculous, but I needed to properly finish what I started.
The manila envelopes were stacked to the very top, but for all I know they were simply hiding things behind them, so I took a good chunk of them out and put them on top of the safe beside Daniel's granny wooden needles. And whaddya know? There were goodies scattered about in the depths of the safe!
How right I was made me laugh out loud before I could even realize what I was doing. A groan from Daniel shut me up almost as fast as I had started, though.
Of all the goodies, what caught my eye the most was a hard-cover notebook, simply 'cuz of how bright it was in the stale darkness of the safe── it practically glowed. A paper with a recent date on it was taped to the notebook's cover. It had a small dash next to it, as if to put down the date for when the notebook would be filled. I think. The notebook looked brand-new, so it would take a long while for that. Not like it was his first time doing it, definitely not. The organization screamed to me that he had been doing it for ages, but there weren't any other notebooks in his safe, so it left me wondering where the others could be. That was, of course, 'til my attention was swept away by the words within the one in my hands. They were handwritten with a pen in beautiful, sometimes chicken-scratch cursive.
I only had to skim through the first page to pick up on how bold those words were, on how they jumped right into Daniel's thoughts. His innermost thoughts. I couldn't breathe. They held things I probably didn't know about him. They held secrets, without a doubt. They were in my hands. His diary was in my hands. And it wasn't even the only thing behind the manila envelopes. What else waited for me beyond them?
I had no clue, but the pages filled by the man sleeping just steps away from me urged my curiosity to give them more than a simple skim. And I had all night to dissect them all, word for word.
I bit the side of my lip.
☆☆☆
July 5th, 1991
I'm a simple man, helpless to the sweet poison she feeds me through saliva when her tongue ravages mine, when it claims me to be no one but hers. When it makes me forget who I am, and what I live for.
Father's underhanded pressure on me with the family business, Roger's silent, soul-crushing approach to life, and the concerns I have on pursuing the career I want, all go away with the embrace of our tongues. Her poison keeps my blood pumping in ways I cannot put to words, but I love the feel of it nevertheless. Ane's poison keeps me high on alert when it kicks in. It suffocates me with its firm grip, has me at its mercy, leaves me breathless.
I always want more, more, more.
Her embrace, her lips, her curves, her breasts, thighs, saliva, it's never enough. I want to become one with her. Feel her in me. Feel myself in her. Feel ourselves as one.
I watch her every night, and just... think about it. The desire. The pain. The pleasure.
I caress her cheeks, her hair, and oh, oh my gods...
The control she has on me maddens every core of my being. I want nothing but to pin her against the wall. To blind her with pleasure, to have her cry out my full name at the top of her lungs. To turn the tables around. To carve my presence deep into her soul, to hear her gasp on the first few thrusts of my hips, to have her beg for more, for me to go harder, to then have her pin me down and take me in one fell swoop with her bold, dominant side all over again. Gods, my lords, when will that day come? Months, years? I can hardly wait. Just thinking about it arouses me. Every day I'm with her I feel like a helpless little virgin, and the more I touch her, the worse it gets.
It's frustrating to hold it all back, to keep it in my pants, to feel her tremble and moan when I go down on her and have no way to relieve myself alongside her, or with her. I hate touching myself before touching her, I would much rather do it in the moment, or slip it right in during one of her orgasms. But I know I have to hold it in. Patience is key. Patience is all I should devote my energy to. She isn't ready, and she won't be, not for a long while. She's vulnerable. I know that. It's only been five days since she told me of all that had happened to her; of the bastard, of all she went through in a span of eight, so who knows what could happen today if she finds herself in a situation with me that triggers her.
I have expressed how not doing anything with her is frustrating, but I admit the reality of it all is that if I find myself in a situation where we might do more than touch her, I will be frightened. The thought of seeing her lose it again frightens me, stabs me, makes me feel disgusted with myself for something I have no control of. Had I been born a woman, perhaps she wouldn't lose it at the sight of me. But on further thought, she wouldn't have been attracted to me in the least bit, would she?
Whatever the case, I don't want to see her lose it again. I don't want either of us to suffer.
Her trauma is an open, infected wound, with blood and pus oozing out of it, and there is nothing I can do about it. Therapy nurses it, and its healing will take time. All I can do is support her, give her all the love I can, and oh how I love her. Yes, I love Ane. I love her so much it hurts, and yet, it makes me feel safe. I love her so much, and I feel so secure in her presence, that I fear for nothing but the worst; rejection. She is my one-way ticket to happiness, but is it a mutual feeling? I worry.
Without her, I will live with no one to hold in the night. Without her, there will be no such thing as making love. Without her, I will have no one to give my heart to. Without her, there will be no such thing as a reasonable gamble.
Without her, I will live forever as a pitiful man with nothing but an empty collection of shiny pebbles to show for himself.
One thing is certain, however: without her, my life is set in stone as the devoted creep she knows I am; one who will watch her from afar, love her from afar, forever and always. Nobody can stop me. It will be my lifeline, it will be what keeps me sane in the loneliest of times.
What started as admiration developed into unconditional love. And so, whether she is with me or not, I will be carrying it with me for years to come.
I'm a simple man.
July 7th, 1991
x
I dream of Imani,
of feisty thick curls
that spring to life
when poked.
I dream of Robin,
of trendy dense coils
that melt away hearts
when stroked.
I dream of Imani,
a lively confident tigress
of luscious plump curves
and large round breasts,
gently coated with smoked bronze.
I dream of Robin,
a teasing suave wolf
of playful rich lips
and ripped lean arms,
generously glazed with tanned copper.
I dream of Imani,
I dream of Robin,
I dream of both.
x
July 8th, 1991
My lords, I can never have enough of Ane, never!
So many handles to grasp, so many folds to kiss, and when she sits on my face, my lords, how excited I become is immeasurable. With ease, such moments make my efforts before the deed fruitless. Time and time again I am forced to come up with an excuse to stop midway for me to calm the urge down in the bathroom. It gets her annoyed every time and I am therefore not surprised she managed to pick up on my pattern── she approached me about it on the spot today and I had to make something up from the top of my head because what was I supposed to say? I can never be honest with her about it until the day I'm absolutely sure she's comfortable with ...