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| The Reason Is You; Jason/OFC spin off of olyamet's "I'm the One..." | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 22 2011, 08:17 PM (1,573 Views) | |
| Margarita | Nov 28 2012, 07:51 AM Post #31 |
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Sand[wo]man
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Chapter 10 Next morning, a much more intelligent assistant than Simon’s ushered Jason into the office of Mr. Goodman, the owner of Madeline ranch. Mr. Bruce Goodman was a man approaching his seventies. His green twinkling eyes stood out on his rather pale, wrinkled face. They also contrasted his stern appearance. He looked strict but loving, demanding but forgiving. He radiated knowledge, confidence and experience. Jason liked him immediately . “I appreciate your agreeing to see me Mr. Goodman.” “You have a rather persistent assistant, Mr. Newsted, it was impossible to refuse. Now, I am sure he already informed you of my reluctance to take in your horse.” Goodman’s tone was stiff, but not dismissive. Jason knew there was no use in beating around the bush. “I will not pretend to know anything about horses. However, I know that you do. Your stables have impeccable reputation and I believe that it is the right place for Storm to be kept at. Now, in the process of looking for a good place for Storm, I happened to learn of your financial struggles. So, without any intention to appear disrespectful, I have a business proposal. I would like to invest in Madeline. I am prepared to accept any reasonable distribution of shares and powers. The professional part would be left to you exclusively. I have no knowledge or time to participate in that. My offer does include two conditions though. One is Storm, the other one is an employee.“ “Ms. Deschampes, I assume?” Mr. Goodman shot him a knowing look, leaning back into his chair, assuming a more relaxed posture. Jason smiled, slightly embarrassed. Was he that obvious? Or was this just life experience at work? The twinkling eyes smiled at him. “You were not the only one doing your homework Mr. Newsted. We are familiar with the work of Ms. Deschampes. In fact, we have considered employing her in the past, but we could not compete with her current employer. May I ask you something?” “Certainly”, Jason answered politely. “Why would a famous, young metal musician, such as yourself, choose to invest in horse breeding business? And how exactly does Ms. Deschampes fit into the story?” Warmth surged up Jason’s neck and all over his face. He assumed he was blushing. It was really pretentious and foolish of him to think that he could just pop into Goodman’s office with a crazy business proposal and be over with it in a matter of minutes. This was not Simon. This was a serious, clever, old man. And Jason sat before him blushing like a schoolboy. Well, here comes a point of no return, he thought and took a deep breath, looking up and meeting the twinkling green eyes studying him carefully. Goodman spoke first. “As I said, Mr. Newsted, you were not the only one doing your homework. Madeline is a family business. It has been a family business for three generations now. We have never had any outside employees, let alone partners. It is true that your offer comes at a very difficult time for us. I would like to see the ranch back at its full potential, there is no doubt about that. I would cherish a moment of peaceful sleep, not having to worry about the future of my staff and their families. I am therefore interested in your offer, as unusual as it may be. On the other hand, I am not willing to put my only possession and legacy at stake just for someone’s spur of the moment.” Jason uttered his response in a single breath. “Mr. Goodman, as a man of experience, I am sure you have been in situations when you craved for a change in your life. Radical change. I have recently found myself in such a situation. To quote you, my only possession and legacy, something that I invested my whole adult life in turned out to be… well, not what I had hoped for, let us put it that way. The road to this much needed change led me to…”, Jason paused. His heart skipped a beat and then started thumping, bringing up the memory of Magdalena’s soft lips on his. He sighed. “… to the horse I bought. The need to save this horse brought me to you.” “And the horse brought you to Ms. Deschampes?” “Well, no, it was the dog that brought me to Ms. Deschampes, but that is a whole different story”, Jason smiled embarrassed. “To cut the long story short, I saw what Magdalena, I mean, Ms. Deschampes, can do and I was impressed. I happen to know that Storm is very attached to her and I also happen to know that she is currently without employment.” His cheeks were burning by this point, he could feel the redness spreading under the probing gaze of Mr. Goodman. He kept his questioning eyes on Jason, making it clear that he wanted to know more. “I have made many mistakes, Mr. Goodman, hurting primarily myself in the process, but unwillingly hurting a few others along the way. This is my radical change and I am very serious about it. I am willing to agree to any provisions you deem necessary to protect your interests. I will not stand in your way, I have other commitments, album, tour, things you probably do not want to hear anything about. My assistant will be here for any emergencies. I would like to remain as inconspicuous as possible.” The old man nodded slowly. His arms were on the armrest, fingertips pressed together. He eyed Jason carefully, obviously mulling over everything Jason had told him. After a few silent minutes, Mr. Goodman smiled and spoke: “Very well, Mr. Newsted. We will be in touch. Would you like to remain present for Ms. Deschampes’ interview, she should be here shortly?” Goodman’s look turned from contemplative to amused. A new wave of heat spread over Jason’s face. He did not expect this turn of events. He made a mental note to admire Mr. Goodman’s proactive approach later on. “As I said, I do not intend to meddle in your running of the ranch. Employment issues included.” Jason cleared his throat. Mr. Goodman smiled knowingly. He still had this amused look about him. Jason again felt like a schoolboy, but it was a good feeling. Bruce Goodman just saw right through him. Instead of being uncomfortable about it, Jason felt relieved. He took the big step, now he needed support. Miraculously enough, he quickly found an ally in this kind old stranger. “All right then. The paperwork will be ready in a few days, if that is alright with you?” “Of course. It’s been a pleasure Mr. Goodman.” “I do hope we see more of each other, Mr. Newsted. Jason.” Goodman said warmly. ............................................................................................................................................................................ Magdalena could not believe her luck. Just a day after that horrible showdown with Simon she answered a phone call from Madeline. She almost dropped the phone when the voice on the other side of the line introduced himself as Bruce Goodman, the owner of Madeline, and asked her if she would be interested in working for him. She blurted out a “yes” a second later. Madeline was a dream come true. They never took in employees from the outside and she had never dared apply, thinking that they must consider her unworthy of the position given that on the few occasions she met Mr. Goodman she was with Simon and there was no real chance of proving herself in such circumstances. Driving to Madeline on her first day of work, she mused about the strange, unexpected turns in her life. There had always been this inexplicable balance preventing her from having it all. When she thought she was happy with Luc, it turned out it was all a lie. When she lost everything and when her father almost died, she got the scholarship for graduate studies without breaking a sweat. When things would be rough at home, or with Simon, her horses would do well, and she would still be satisfied with at least one aspect of her life. She always worked hard to make herself believe she was happy with the way things worked out. She lost all hope of reviving her emotional life when Jason walked into the picture. Jason. Her fingers wrapped around the steering wheel tighter, leaving thin traces of sweat on the dark plastic. Damn it, Magdalena! Why did her heart sink so heavily, every time she would think of him? Why couldn’t she just let it go, close that particular chapter and just move on? Why did she return to his words almost every night, analyzing them to the point of exhaustion that finally brought sleep on her tired eyes? “I have never thought of you as a rebound girl.“ She turned the music louder, shaking the words off. I guess it was necessary, this huge blow, this failure. It was necessary for the balance. It got me to Madeline. It ended the sick bond with Simon. I had to fail somewhere. She sighed heavily and parked the car. Mr. Goodman had given her a tour around the stables and introduced her to everyone a day before. They were all pleased to have her. To her amazement, they were familiar with her work. She was more than Simon’s vet here. For the first time in years, she felt appreciated, useful, advancing. The balance, she thought, approaching Storm’s stall. Fulfilled professionally, drained emotionally. Can’t have it all, she smiled sadly to herself. Storm pawed the ground excitedly. She stroked his gracious long neck and greeted him. Something bright yellow in the corner of the stall caught her eye. It’s vibrant color stood in sharp contrast to Storm’s shiny black coat. She squinted to see what it was, as she took a few steps forward. It was a sunflower with a note on it. The note said “Have a great first day”. She smiled. How nice of Mr. Goodman, or her colleagues. She put the flower in water and took it home that day. It brought much needed brightness into her living space. It made her smile when she woke up and started getting ready for work the following day. When she walked into Storm’s stall the next day, there was a fresh sunflower waiting for her. She took it home. By the end of the third day, three sunflowers shone brightly in the vase in her living room. Soon enough, she needed a bigger vase. And an answer to the question who was behind this. She suspected Steve, a really nice and friendly guy. Steve was also a new employee at the ranch. They connected quickly, which was no surprise. He was extremely pleasant company and had a great sense of humor. They managed to cover all sorts of topics, without ever going into the awkward zone of personal life. That was the exact kind of company Magdalena needed. One day she bumped into Steve right at the entrance to the stables. He mumbled an apology and excused himself with his signature smile, saying he was in a hurry. Magdalena’s eyes flew to the known spot in the stall and sure enough, there it was, a fresh sunflower. After that day, she considered confronting Steve about the flowers. She decided not to make a fuss because she did not really know how to start that conversation and she had no backup plan in case Steve turned out not to be her secret admirer. He never gave off any signals that would make her think he wanted something more than friendship. Finally, she decided to wait a bit longer. Meanwhile, sunflowers became a part of her daily routine. By now a huge bouquet took up a central position on the table. That day, as usually, she walked to the corner of the stall to pick up her daily portion of brightness, when she noticed a note on the flower. Her heart started beating faster and she frowned at herself for behaving like a schoolgirl as she unfolded the note with shaky fingers. It was not what she had expected. There was no message, just two tickets to a show. She read the writing, struggling for a moment to remember why the name sounded so familiar. It took only a few seconds to remember. Her knees buckled. Her heart raced, her own heartbeat resonating in her ears deafeningly. Air stuck in her throat, making her grimace funnily, her lips trapped half way between a gasp of shock and smile of excitement. She stroked the petals absentmindedly, while trying to come to terms with this discovery. Jason, her inner voice whispered softly and her heart responded to the name loudly. So the flowers were from him. All those days… The flowers she so diligently collected and nourished and enjoyed the sight of in her home, they were from him. He kept his distance, as she requested, but he stayed close, as she secretly hoped he would. Was that pathetic? Hoping that he would? Should she go? Should she just drop it? Be honest with yourself, Magdalena! She searched her soul over and over again, every night since the unfortunate turn of events at Jason's. She worked hard to preserve her resentment of him, of herself, of everything that happened. She failed. The resentment faded away with time. The bitterness gave way to regret. Emotions gave way to reason. Anger gave way to…. Forgiveness? This was his peace offer. Should she take it? If she did, it was a chance to save a friendship. God knows she did not have a lot of friends. If she did not, she would end up wondering about what might have happened. There was no way she would put herself through that. This was a perfect way to close the Jason chapter. The only question was, did she really want to. “Would you be interested in going to a gig with me on Thursday, it’s this new band, I got tickets from a friend?” she asked Steve during their lunch break that day. “Sure, I’d love to!” Steve smiled and started typing a text message on his cell. “When should I pick you up?” ...................................................................................................................................................................................... Jason stretched his neck and arms backstage. He cracked his fingers. He walked around the room, did a few jumps. He shook his arms and legs. He sat down. He stood up. He checked his guitars. He sat down again. A raging hurricane of thoughts and emotions made him tremble. Lars was there. He saw him. Lars and the camera crew. Jason snorted bitterly. You had to come and see if I would make a fool of myself. He gritted his teeth in anger. Fucking camera crew. He brought the fucking camera crew!!! He kept mum for months prior to his leaving the band. He never said a fucking word. He watched everything fall apart and he never once bothered to try and reason with James. He never spoke to him after the incident with Angel. But he was here now. With the camera crew. He managed to find a way to use and abuse him, even after he had left the band! Why don’t we capture Jason’s attempts at redefining himself on film. Such an amusing material for our we-haven’t-tried-this-yet documentary turned damage-control reality show. Jason paced in circles nervously. Doubts and fears circled around him like hungry blood hounds, waiting for the right moment to bite at his flesh. What am I doing? Was this the right thing to do? A fresh start after fifteen years? That’s just plain pathetic! Fucking suicide! He felt teeth sinking deep into his flesh. He fought for air, his own heart rate chocked him. He rummaged through his things in panic. Finally his fingers glided over the cold square shape of his cell phone. He reread Steve’s message for what must have been a hundredth time that day. “She’ll be there”, the message read. He managed to take a deep breath. His band mates joined him. They exchanged fist bumps and went out on stage. Let the show begin. Magdalena shifted weight from one leg to another nervously. She tried to fake coolness in front of Steve, but was quite convinced that he did not buy it, especially after he had caught her not listening to what he was saying for two times in a row. She sipped on her Corona and scanned the crowd. She noticed some cameras in the opposite corner. Everything else was a blur and her thoughts were just a winding stream of consciousness. Were boots the right choice? Should she have tied her hair? Was she wearing too much makeup? Was Jason nervous before his first show? Would he see her there at all? Should she somehow let him know of her presence? A commotion happening around her brought her back to the real world. Steve nudged her and nodded towards the stage. Two young guys went out first followed by a known bush of curls. She felt the bottle sliding through her hand and caught it last minute, never taking eyes off Jason. "It's the first day of spring today, and it's a fresh start for all of us right here," Jason said, scanning the crowd confidently. And then they started playing. Magdalena stared at Jason on stage, mesmerized by the sight of him and completely oblivious to everything else, even the music that she registered but did not really hear. She absorbed the energy he was sending off and floated in an empty space carried by the incredible amount of power emanating from him and his guitar. She watched Jason’s fingers rushing all over the instrument, gripping it tightly, squeezing out its maximum, his knuckles white from the grip, his muscles tense as he ran to and fro on the stage. Drops of sweat flew around him as he headbanged with his band mates. His face was happy as he addressed the crowd from time to time. She witnessed a dimension of his person that was completely new to her. It put the little knowledge she had had of his past into a completely new perspective. She suddenly became aware of the magnitude of his leaving the band. His explanation, about the meeting with the documentary crew the day when she came to his door, now made much more sense to her. The sadness lurking in his eyes now had an obvious cause. This was where he felt accomplished and fulfilled. This was where he felt free. This was what he craved and felt deprived of. This was his ranch and his horses. He wanted her to see it. But she did not only see it, she felt it, she lived it and breathed it with him. Still unable to keep her eyes away from Jason, Magdalena felt the need to share her excitement with someone. She almost forgot Steve was there with her. She leaned in and shouted in his ear, over the music. “Isn’t the bass player amazing?” “Yeah, he is. He has been, for fifteen years I’ve known him” Magdalena thought she must have misheard something, the music was really loud. “What?” “I said, he has been amazing for fifteen years, which is how long I’ve known him”. She took a step back and looked at Steve. He must be messing with her. Steve flashed her his smile, shrugging apologetically. “I’m sorry, but I was forbidden from telling you anything.” He nodded towards Jason who was in the middle of a bass solo. Magdalena just stared at him, without a word, and Steve started panicking. “OK, listen, there’s no hidden agenda, or anything creepy, really. I used to work as Jason’s personal assistant while he was with Metallica. We became good friends and we still are. When he bought….” Steve bit his tongue. “I was the one leaving sunflowers for you. Upon his request. He was afraid you might turn him down, if you knew they were from him. I don’t know why, he never told me. But believe me, he was desperate for this to happen.” “But, how did he know I was at Madeline now? How did you end up at Madeline? Don’t tell me it was just a coincidence?” “It wasn’t. But I think you should really talk to Jason about it. I’m pretty sure he’s eager to talk to you.” Magdalena sighed and turned her attention back to the stage, processing the new information she just learned. The woman inside her was excited and flattered. This all sounded very romantic. He really went the extra mile to get her to talk to him, she could not deny that. The realistic, reasonable Magdalena, the one who had been lied to, cheated and deceived before was suspicious. There were too many unanswered questions. Did Jason have something to do with her employment at Madeline? Did that mean that she had not been employed for her professional qualities after all? The thought made her sick instantly. The room felt too crowded. She needed air. “I’m gonna go out for some fresh air.” She shouted over to Steve and started pushing her way out of the crowd with speed, not waiting for an answer. Steve’s words “But it’s the last song” got lost in the surrounding noise. As the door of the club closed behind her Magdalena heard the crowd calling for an encore. She stepped out and opened her mouth to take a deep breath, but someone pushed her violently and she bumped into someone’s back in front of her. “Hey!” she yelled, trying to locate the offender and then quickly turned to apologize to the person she accidentally hit. “I’m really sorry, someone pushed me, are you alright?” “Yes, I'm ok, don’t worry.” A woman with the most mesmerizing green eyes smiled at her. She was breathtakingly beautiful with long dark hair framing her face and, although her eyes were pained and sad, she smiled at Magdalena kindly with full, sensual lips. The woman turned and walked away briskly. Magdalena watched her for a few seconds. She looked vaguely familiar. Those eyes… She must have seen her before. Magdalena then remembered the real reason why she was standing outside. What should she do? She paced in circles slowly. Her thoughts were incoherent flashes of past moments. His desperation when he brought Ted to her office, his pleading eyes when he invited her to his place, their conversation at the picnic, the hug in the car, his scent, the feeling of safety his arms offered, his kiss fierce and detached, his touch aggressive, his whisper when he called her later, those words, the sunflowers in her vase. Her heart sank and jumped at every flash, her breath short, her pace uneven. Finally she stopped, closed her eyes and cleared her head. She came back inside resolutely, pushing her way through the crowd that was now streaming towards the exit. Steve was nowhere to be seen. He was probably backstage or something. She lingered at the bar some more and then decided to give Steve a call, but he was unavailable. Now what? ........................................................................................................................................................................................ Getting out of his soaked stage apparel, Jason tried to sort out his impressions and distill his conclusions from the mixture of adrenaline and euphoria still simmering in him, refusing to give him the chance to calm down completely. The gig was a success, the crowd enjoyed it. He enjoyed it. A huge hole inside of him finally stopped expanding and maybe even shrank a little. The overall feeling was different. He was yet to come to terms with the knowledge that things would never be the same again. The crowd, the atmosphere, the intensity, the size, the feeling. Everything would be different. He descended from a throne and found himself among the commoners. He expected it to be more of a shock but it was not. Because, he has never been a king really. He only got to be close to the royals, at their service. Present but invisible, never an equal. The experience of the night was liberating. What was the most important, there was no bitterness. The gig went well and he could enjoy the sweet taste of success, without thinking what kind of pressure the next day would bring. Jason smiled at the thought. Steve barged in, interrupting him. “Hey man, great show! Congratulations!” Steve hugged him patting him on the back. “Thanks” Jason smiled broadly. “Where’s Magdalena? I have to talk to Lars first, could you keep her company for a few minutes longer?” “Yeah, about that…” Steve looked at his feet and sighed, rubbing his forehead. “She kind of freaked out when I told her of our friendship.” “Shit, shit, shit!” Jason ran his fingers through his hair. “What do you mean kind of freaked out? Did she leave?” “I don’t know, she said she needed some air and she walked out, it was during the last song. I waited for her but then it got too crowded when people started leaving, so I came here to tell you. Wait, maybe she texted me or something” Steve pulled out his cell phone from his jeans pocket and started pushing buttons frantically “Oh, for fuck’s sake! It’s dead!” “OK, listen, she may still be here. I’m gonna look for her first. Tell the guys I’ll be back. Tell Lars… I don’t know, just tell him I had to go.” He ran out leaving the door open behind him. He rushed into the bar area that was now nearly empty. It did not take him long to spot her. She was getting off the bar stool and thanking the bartender. “Magdalena!” Jason shouted terrified at seeing her leave. She looked up from her purse, eyes swept across the room to locate the person calling her. He raised his arm hesitantly. Their eyes met. The world stopped in a heartbeat. |
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| Margarita | Nov 28 2012, 08:04 AM Post #32 |
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Sand[wo]man
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Chapter 11 Magdalena fiddled with her purse, unable to keep her gaze focused. Her eyes kept darting between Jason’s face and the exit door. He slowly walked towards the bar. As the distance closed between them, his eyes caught hers and he smiled. Her mind went blank and she slowly sat back in the bar stool. He stood at a polite distance leaning on the bar with his left arm. She held his gaze, trying to suppress what seemed to be unreasonable happiness and cover up shortness of breath. “I… It’s great…I’m really glad to see you here.” He extended his arm and then pulled it back fast. Magdalena could not stop looking at him, taking in the details. The red hue of his hair became strangely prominent under the dim lights. It was hard to compose a meaningful sentence with such a powerful visual distraction. Having witnessed his energy on stage, she now looked at him with different eyes. All her impressions and perceptions of him intensified. He seemed stronger, fiercer, more powerful, more manly. She could not stop musing about this, despite the growing awkwardness of prolonged silence on her part. Say something!!! “I truly enjoyed it. Thanks for the tickets.” Words stuck halfway in the communication process. As much as she scolded herself, she could not do better than that. Her eyes were an entity of their own, taking in details persistently, distracting her relentlessly. Jason’s long fingers glided over the polished surface of the bar. His Adam’s apple slowly moved down and back up as he swallowed. “Look Magdalena… Steve told me you were surprised to learn about our friendship and I want to explain that, to remove any doubts you might have. I…” He clenched his fist and then stretched his fingers out. “OK, I’m now a partner with Bruce Goodman, I invested in Madeline. When I…” His eyes studied her, pleading, looking for some sign of approval. At the mention of Madeline, Magdalena woke up from the stupor, all her amazement and happiness stepping back before the surge of fresh anger and self-consciousness. “So, it was not me after all. It was you. And the money. I should have thought so. Thank you for letting me know.” “No, no, wait, please, hear me out. Please. I was there. That day, when you had that fight with Simon. I heard it all. I was standing in front of the stables. I came to talk to you, to try and apologize. I heard you two fighting and I did not know what to do. It was not intentional, but I heard.” Anger quickly receded. Embarrassment took over, as Magdalena recounted Simon’s neat list of all her failures, intimate defeats that she had tried so hard to keep away from everyone else. Her throat tightened, pushing blood into her cheeks. “How much did you hear?” She kept her eyes on his long fingers, unable to look up, for fear of what reflection she might see in the blue depths. Jason paused for a minute, hoping she would look at him. His fingers twitched involuntarily, yearning to rush to her face and touch the soft skin just to assure her that he did not think any less of her. “All of it.” She pressed her eyes shut. His heart jumped painfully and words flew out uncontrollably. “But listen, I don’t care about it, any of it, not until I hear it from you, if you ever feel like telling me. It’s just… I could not let it go just like that. No one deserved that kind of treatment or language. Especially not you. It was not just Simon, it was I… I had to do something. Something to make it right, to make you feel happy, to undo what that jerk did to you… what I did to you.” She kept her eyes away, blinking frantically to prevent a tear from escaping her eye. The words he had just spoken caressed her wounded pride. The kindness of his tone felt like falling into silky softness, when all you expected was to hit hard, cold concrete. “But listen, I have not had any, any influence on your employment at Madeline, whatsoever. Goodman had known about you already, he was the one to mention you first, he wanted to see you there a long time ago. I don’t have any influence on personnel matters, and even if I had, do you really think I would be able to make Bruce Goodman do anything against his better judgment?” She finally looked him in the eyes. Her own were glossy with tears she tried to control. Wounded, but dignified. Exposed, yet brave. Jason got lost in her look, unable to handle the storm that was building in his core, a force made of physical attraction, admiration, excitement and also regret, remorse and loss. There were so many things he wanted to do at that very moment – close the gap he had consciously made, hold her in her arms, kiss her, taste her, take her…. At what point she became so important to him, he could not define. “I guess not.” Her voice stopped this confusing stream of thoughts. “So, Steve’s your assistant at the ranch?” “Yes, Steve’s a good friend first and foremost. He’s there in case something needs to be covered, while I’m away. Please don’t think badly of him, because of this thing, I just did not want to impose myself on you. So, I asked him to leave flowers every day. I… I’m sorry. It all seems so lame now. I’ve honestly never wanted to cause any inconvenience to you.” The whole sunflower experiment indeed sounded so lame now. Was that really the best you could come up with? A childish feeling of inadequacy washed over him. Luckily she spoke again. “I kept them. The flowers. I kept them. It was not an inconvenience.” She smiled at him, feeling the need to reassure him. The embarrassment on his face was unbelievably cute, messing with the determination and honesty and his controlled movements, making his jaw lines soften and his eyes escape from hers. “I’m sorry.” He suddenly took her hand in his. Her heart jumped up to her throat and flew back down, beating uncontrollably. His eyes held her firm in place, she swam in the blue depths and there was no way out and she did not really want out. What did she want? She wanted him to close the gap between them, she wanted him to kiss her, she wanted to kiss him back, to inhale his scent, to feel his skin on her fingertips. How did this happen?! She forced her breathing to get back to normal pace. “For what?” she half-whispered. “For taking you for granted.” He answered without a blink. She was still floating in the blue vastness of his eyes, unable to think clearly. She felt the warmth of his fingers on her hand and craved for more but dared not to show it. Her eyes roamed over Jason’s face and down his neck, to the center, lower part where she saw fast heartbeat, mirroring her own. “Apology accepted.” she smiled weakly as she focused on that heartbeat, avoiding his eyes. Just pretend like nothing is going on, stay calm, pretend and it will go away. If only she could stop staring at his neck… Jason felt his own heartbeat chocking him. He fought for breath, as the forgiveness he has just been given sank in. Relief washed over him bringing back shapes, sounds and smells of the real world to his senses. His body and mind reconnected in the moment of silence that followed. He then became aware of Magdalena’s hand in his and slowly let go of it, allowing his fingers to slide down her palm reluctantly. His eyes darted to Magdalena’s face and caught a fleeting second of regret there before she looked up and their eyes met again. The urge to hold her in his arms grew with every second. His body leaned towards her of its own, his eyes roamed over her face, hungrily taking in eyebrows, eyelashes, tip of her nose, lips, chin, sensations driving his brain into overload, until reason stepped in with a quiet but stern warning. Jason closed his eyes briefly and forced himself back to the polite distance. “How did you like the show?” That’s right, end the silence, before it ends you. “I loved it. I liked the music. And you… You were, well, I can’t find the right word…” “Ridiculous?” he raised his eyebrow. “No, no, completely the opposite. You were happy, in control, at home. It was a beautiful sight actually. It ‘s what fulfills you, there is no doubt about that. Thank you for showing me that.” she smiled. The tension finally eased a bit. “Well, I saw you at work, I thought it only fair for you to see me. Plus, I was being selfish, I needed a friendly face. This was not an easy step to take.” “I know that now, I realized that watching you up there. But hey, it’s also exciting, right, a new challenge?” “It is. It feels great actually, like a part that has been long missing got into place again. I feel complete. At least when it comes to work.” Another moment of silence. Magdalena could not fight it any more. She abandoned all her caution and just drowned in his eyes. No use pretending. “I know what you mean.” she sighed, looking away. “I know you do.” he watched her eyes fly back to his face. He expected her to look away again but she didn’t and his heart jolted. He played it in his mind, closing the distance, drawing his hands up her arms, to her neck, running his fingers through her hair, pressing his lips on hers, feeling her breath in his mouth, caressing her tongue with his… Two steps was all it took, just two steps… “Khm, sorry for interrupting you” Steve’s voice chased the resolve away. “Jason everyone is looking for you…” Jason watched helplessly, as the two steps of distance between them grew, with Magdalena getting off the bar stool and swinging her purse over her shoulder. “Go. It’s your night, I kept you too long.” Magdalena smiled at him. It was not reserved. It was not courteous. It was a genuine, kind, broad, enchanting smile. Was it too daring to interpret it as inviting and encouraging? Probably it was. But he’d settle with genuine and kind. For now. How could he end this encounter on a promising note? He needed to start dating her properly, and now he was off to tour and she was off to races and this moment they shared was interrupted so abruptly… Magdalena stood in front of him, shifting her weight. Her fingers fumbled with the zipper of her purse. “So, thanks again. For the tickets.” Her legs felt so heavy. She did not want to leave. Just go her inner voice shouted exasperatedly. “It was my pleasure” Jason replied tucking his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. He cringed inwardly at this stupid, bleak reply. What promised to be another awkward moment of silence was prevented by Steve. “Perhaps you could take Lucky to the dog hotel instead of me tomorrow after work?” he asked Magdalena casually and added “I’m allergic, it would take a lot of sneezing and coughing and scratching.” “You’re not leaving Lucky in a hotel?!” she looked at Jason. “I have to. Steve’s allergic and there’s no one else to look after him.” Jason shrugged. “I can look after him” she blurted. “Are you sure?” “Of course I’m sure. I can take him to the ranch every day. No one will mind. And he’ll be with someone he knows” she smiled happily. “It’s settled then. I’ll bring him tomorrow morning. I mean early morning, then I have to leave.” “I’ll see you two in the morning then. Early morning.” she winked and waved goodbye. Jason and Steve walked into the after party. Music was loud. Spirits were high. “Since when have you been allergic to dogs?” Jason suppressed a smile, grabbing a beer. “Since tonight” Steve replied coolly and clinked bottles with Jason. |
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| Margarita | Nov 28 2012, 08:06 AM Post #33 |
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Sand[wo]man
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Chapter 12 The sun was already up high, only the thick curtains on the hotel room window preventing its rays from spilling all over his face. Jason stretched in bed. A month into the tour and he still woke up with it. Every morning without exception the seductive vanilla and blueberry scent would linger in his subconscious, as he would be waking up. Every morning he fought to prolong the short moment of sweet memory, even though he knew that no prolonging could make it as real as he wanted to. He had been a loner for fifteen years. His work was all he needed. He never thought about anything else, never craved anything else. He had a house because it was convenient to have a studio set up somewhere. As for anything else, that house had just the same bed, shower and couch as any other place. He never considered it his home. He did not need a home. The road, the band, that was where home was. Until that morning. A month ago. When Magdalena opened the door and he inhaled the smell of vanilla and blueberry. “I made you some breakfast” she said through laughter, trying hard to maintain her balance under Lucky’s paws, as he jumped around her in an attempt to reach her face. The dog finally managed to embrace her, standing on his back legs. He started licking her face. Lucky, you are one lucky bastard indeed Jason concluded watching the encounter, smiling. Magdalena finally managed to push Lucky away. She smiled at Jason: “I know you’re in a hurry, and it’s really early. So, here you go, compliments of the house” she handed him a paper bag. It was still warm. Jason opened it and peeked inside. A puff of vanilla scented warm air stirred up his senses and his stomach demanded a taste. “I think I’m gonna have one right now” he smiled reaching inside the bag. “Oh, wait then, I have more, take those if you get hungry later”. She fetched a plate crammed with muffins. “Think I’ll have one too” She patiently waited for his reaction as he chewed on his first bite. When his eyes closed and a soft “mhm” confirmed he enjoyed the taste, she tucked in. Jason opened his eyes to take another bite and saw Magdalena standing in front of him, clearly enjoying the meal and the fact that he liked her early breakfast offerings. She chewed happily, sparkles in her eyes dancing, looking at him. There was a speck of vanilla filling just outside the corner of her mouth. He tried to ignore it but his eyes kept darting to the spot. “What?” she raised her eyebrows. “There’s cream… you have cream… errrrrr…. here” he reached out to touch the spot on her face, but quickly pulled back and pointed to the corner of his mouth to indicate the exact spot. “Oh, ok” she licked the cream off with one quick swipe of her tongue. Jason’s knees suddenly felt weak. Any effort to deny obvious eroticism of the moment was futile. Any effort to deny that she attracted him on so many levels was in vain too. He could not resist the onslaught of thoughts about how this breakfast might have its follow-up right over there for example, on the couch, or upstairs on the bed. Musings about physical fulfillment led him to realize how those sparkling eyes and loving hands and soft mouth of hers could satisfy another kind of hunger, fill in that missing link, provide him with a refuge, a base, something permanent to hold on to. A home. A home with someone to come back to after every exhausting day, someone to make him breakfast, someone to whom he wanted to make breakfast. Somebody to give himself to. Somebody to freely call his own. Somebody to love… His eyes flipped open. OK, time to get back to here and now, get up and shower. Today, he was going to surprise her. They had two days off on tour. And Bruce Goodman was celebrating his seventieth birthday and Storm’s win in every race they took him to for the past couple of months. The Madeline name regained some of its well deserved glory in the breeding circles. There was plenty to celebrate, Goodman told him, when he called last week to see if he could manage. He could manage all right. He could manage attending. He was not sure if he could manage being around Magdalena though. It took him every bit of resolve to walk away from her house that day, to not call her every day, though hearing her voice only twice a week and keeping the conversation casual and mostly about work and Lucky was torment. The only force holding him back and in control was pure fear. He was terrified of blowing his second chance, if there ever was any, if that breakfast really meant something, if he really saw it in her eyes, and not just imagined it. He was terrified of missing that one window of opportunity that life usually offered. The chance to meet and keep the one person that was right for you. Not everyone could seize the chance. Not everyone did. He now knew Magdalena was the one for him and he knew what misery lay before him, if he blew it. The afternoon went by too fast in what looked more like a teenager getting ready for his first date, than a grown man, what is more, a known musician and as of recent a businessman, dressing for a party. Nothing seemed good enough. His hair was a mess. He cursed the day when he decided to let it grow long again. After quite some time of agonizing over glasses vs contacts, putting the lenses on with his hands all shaky turned into a mission impossible. All of his clothes seemed inappropriate. He was pretty sure he had put way too much perfume on. He glanced at his watch and realized he could easily miss his flight. Following a frantic drive to and run through the airport he was finally in his seat, catching his breath and unconsciously tapping his fingers on the armrest when the flight attendant’s practiced recitation informed him of some technical problems with the plane and consequent flight delay. He sighed. Magdalena stood in front of the bathroom mirror and carefully patted her forehead with a handkerchief. The hilarious dance session with Steve on the dance floor left her face flushed and moist. She hated that, but she could not refuse Steve’s invitation to dance to some good old disco. His moves made her cry with laughter and squeal when he would grab her for some twisting and turning. The party was great, she did not enjoy herself like that for a long time. It all looked like a gathering of a large and harmonious family with much to celebrate. What made it special was the fact that she felt like she belonged there. Goodman’s praise of her hard work during his toast speech filled her with pride. His fatherly hug when she wished him a happy birthday made her realize she was seen as much more than just an employee at Madeline. It was a family business, a family matter, and she was part of it, acknowledged for her skills, appreciated for her personal qualities. She was fulfilled. Everything was perfect. Almost. She sighed, staring at her reflection in the mirror, silently admonishing herself for spending hours getting ready for the party. For expecting he would be there. For hoping he would eventually show up. For feeling disappointed when a few hours into the party it became obvious that he would not. She should have mentioned the party when they last spoke, but it was not her place to invite him. Plus their conversations were always a careful selection of topics. Ask about the tour. Answer about Lucky and work. Give an account of Steve’s latest and so far the funniest mishap during riding lessons. Imagine Jason’s face while listening to him laughing. Talk about schedules. Hold breath, waiting for him to maybe prolong the talk for a few more minutes. Cover up disappointment when he does not. Wait for the next call for a few days. Daydream about him every minute of that time…. With another sigh, she stepped out of the bathroom. She scanned the room to find her dance partner and saw Steve discussing something with the DJ. What is he up to now, she thought, when he spotted her and gave her thumbs up with a mischievous, tipsy smile on his face. “What?” she mouthed at him, shrugging, but he just winked. Another song started and it was definitely a switch from fast dance rhythms. As Mr and Mrs Goodman walked over to the small dance floor, followed by a few other pairs, a known voice coming from behind her back startled her. “Am I late for a dance?” She smiled, bowing her head, feeling blood slowly fill her cheeks and her pulse increase. She lifted her head with a deep breath and turned around. “No, you’re just in time” He pulled her to him slowly. The air escaping the closing space between them brought his scent, the same one she remembered from the first time he hugged her in the car, a mixture of perfume, hair, skin, his unique scent that woke up butterflies in her stomach. She felt his gaze on her face but did not dare to return it. She looked over his shoulder as he pulled her closer and loosely locked her arms around his neck. Jason’s heart beat so fast it almost hurt him. He struggled to keep his breathing steady. He wanted to say something but felt his voice would be too shaky. He feared, he was terrified, that she might change her mind and leave his embrace any second. He gently placed his hands on the small of her back. It’s much too late to save myself from falling I took a chance and changed the way of life But you misread my meaning when I met you… They danced slowly without saying a word. For a moment she thought this might not be such a good idea. Maybe she should leave, there was no point in pursuing something that did not exist, the voice of doubt nagged at her. Just then his hands gently pushed her to him, a touch that was barely there but still held her closer to him, as if he felt she was thinking about escape, as if begging her to stay. She wanted to stay with all her heart, she never wanted to leave and that made her feel helpless. She was terrified. Jason felt her nervousness, his own fear of losing her again growing into panic. His hands acted of their own accord and pulled her closer. He turned his head slowly, just for an inch towards her face and whispered into her ear “Just a dance. Please. Just this.” She didn’t say anything, just nodded and drew closer to him, locking her arms tighter around his neck. Relieved, he breathed in, and smelled her soft perfume, a musky, powdery, delicate note that fit her skin perfectly. His brain had already memorized it, that night, when he foolishly thought he could just not care; when he recklessly acted as someone else; when he unknowingly lost the greatest treasure this world had to offer to him. His heart sank at the thought and he sighed. He then felt her adjusting her arms around his neck in a proper embrace which brought her even closer. Their bodies touched. An electric shock to a dying heart. A ripping sensation travelled all the way from his stomach up to his throat, pumping blood through his system with greater force sending heat up to his face. He suddenly became aware of every inch of her body. Her knee brushed his, her thigh was right next to his, her waist swayed slowly in his arms. He felt her chest heaving with every breath and he felt as if she was breathing into him, filling him with an unknown sensation. Breathing air into the lungs of a drowning man. Jason started turning his head in minute movements. He was still terrified, but she kept breathing life into him and he felt empowered. Soon his face was in her hair. Soft curls caressed his nose and cheeks. He closed his eyes as they moved to the music and held her tighter unconsciously. Magdalena responded with a slow movement of her hands, fingers spreading to cup his neck and nape. A swarm of electrical charges flew around his body. His throat tightened and his breaths became shorter and faster. He continued his slow journey through her hair and his chin reached her jaw line. The fingers on his neck twitched but she did not move. He traced her jaw line with the tip of his chin. His heart raced. He felt her fast, short breaths on his neck as she tilted her head just barely. He followed her movement, slightly bending his head. His lips brushed the soft skin of her cheek just at the corner of her mouth. Her warm breath glided over his face, her lips just one more move away. He froze. Magdalena then closed the miniature gap between them, lifting her chin up just barely, to align her lips with his. He followed her lead and slowly, gently, with a tinge of fear and hesitation pressed his lips on hers. All his senses focused on that magical touch filling up his whole being with an unfamiliar sensation. He was drowning, sinking, falling, but he was safe, he enjoyed it, he wanted more. His lips parted from hers for a second only to come back, this time asking for more and she responded, slowly opening her mouth, leaving a thin wet layer on his lips. She invited him, teased him, dared him, begged him for more contact. He tasted her lips with the tip of his tongue. He gently pulled at her lower lip with his thumb, his other fingers lifting her chin up effortlessly. He opened his eyes and stared at the hypnotizing green. The sparkles were there, dancing their little dance, calling him to join them, giving him the approval he sought and he closed his eyes again and kissed her. Their tongues touched, gently and slowly, hesitatingly at first but soon started exploring, caressing and savoring each other, dancing a slow dance of their own. Magdalena’s hand slid down from the back of Jason’s neck and slowly crept up to his cheek. He surrendered to the warm, soft touch that chased away his fear and brought back confidence. There was nothing else in this world but that touch, and her breath in his mouth, her tongue returning the kiss, her fingers on his neck, she, Magdalena, the reason of all reasons in his arms. After a while they stopped kissing to catch their breath. He pressed his forehead against hers. He opened his eyes and met her gaze. Blue springs spilled into the green plains. The unknown sensation overwhelmed him. Jason cupped Magdalena’s face in his hands. He looked at her, mesmerized, speechless, trying to figure out what the unknown sensation was. Then it hit him. He was home. He belonged. The song they danced to was long finished. The change of rhythm brought them back from the oblivion of the kiss. Loud laughter coming from the circle of people on the dance floor meant that Steve was having a blast again. It seemed that no one had noticed them, although Magdalena was pretty sure everyone did but was too polite to stare. Bruce Goodman managed to look the other way just in time for them not to see a smile on his face. Magdalena spoke first. “I know someone who would be very happy to see you” “You mean push me down, lick my face and then lay on his back for a long scratching session?” “Yup. That’s the one. And perhaps we could talk afterwards? There are some things I’d like to tell you.” “Sure, I’d like that. Let’s go.” Jason swung his arm around Magdalena’s shoulders and they walked out. A shadow of doubt spoiled the sparkling moment of the kiss. I guess I will have to tell her everything? What happens when I tell him everything? |
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| Margarita | Nov 28 2012, 08:08 AM Post #34 |
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Sand[wo]man
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Chapter 13 They made love that night. It has been a year since, and he still remembered every single detail about it. Magdalena’s glossy eyes in a sharp contrast to her matter-of-fact tone as she gave him a full account of her story with Luc. The strength with which she talked about love, trust, betrayal and disillusionment. The way she avoided his eyes when she talked about her father who put everything he had under mortgage to pay off her husband’s gambling debts. Her voice vibrating with guilt when she told him about the severe stroke her father had after all arrangements had been made. One tear she quickly wiped off when she told him about the miscarriage she had afterwards. Her whisper as she talked about the subsequent diagnosis of permanent inability to sustain pregnancy. The disgust with which she talked about Simon. The repulsion and sadness when she said: “And what’s killing me is that he was right. I’m just naively dreaming that one day I will be able to fix this, to get my father’s property back, to make him proud again. Was I just whoring myself working for that man?” Jason was silent until that point, letting her say everything she wanted to. After the last sentence he could not remain silent any longer. Nor could he bear the physical distance between them, so he moved closer to her on the sofa and took her hand. Their fingers intertwined. He studied this proof of recently established intimacy and attachment between them. Then he spoke, keeping his eyes on her long fingers in his hand. “I can say a thing or two about whoring. And about dreaming. And about questioning my choices.” It poured out so effortlessly, so naturally, so honestly – the story of dreams and clashes with reality; of striving and failing; of partial acceptance and complete rejection; of intoxicating success and crushing disappointment. The story about him and the band. Everything. Well, almost everything. Words stuck in his throat when he wanted to mention Angel and his mind put an end to the story right there, hastily reasoning with itself. It just felt wrong to talk about Angel at that point. That door closed a while ago. He had no intention of opening it ever again. It was finished. It never existed in reality, just his messed up inner world. So it better be left unspoken. He stared into Magdalena’s eyes for a few silent moments. “But here I am. Staring at you. And it does not feel so… It just does not burn any more.” Magdalena’s fingers slid out of his hand and cupped his face. His heart skipped a beat sending a rush of blood to his cheeks and his hand moved on its own, fingers reaching for her hair, tucking the soft curls behind her ear gently as if he was touching some ancient, precious object that had to be preserved for the posterity of mankind. He kissed her earlobe softly and felt her breathing speeding up. His finger traced her jaw line and moved to her lips, sliding over the soft fullness and parting them slowly, feeling the moist warmth on his fingertips. He moved closer, positioning his body slightly higher than hers and leaned over her. His hair fell over her face, caressing her cheeks as his lips met with hers. He felt her hands on his neck, her fingers digging into his hair on the back of his head. Her touch and the feeling of her lips on his intoxicated him and he parted her lips with his tongue, exhaling the suppressed sigh into her mouth and enjoying the warmth of her breath. His tongue met hers and they slid over each other in deliberately slow motions, breaking contact to roam around only to come back together and enjoy the delicate touch again. He worked hard to control his movements and his speed, afraid to break this magical moment. He needed more and deepened the kiss, covering her mouth with his completely, leaving her breathless. Her fingers roamed through his hair pulling him closer, he felt her racing pulse under his lips and tongue lazily travelling down to her collar bone. She moaned softly urging him to continue and he smiled between the wet kisses. His every move and touch, his every thought and action were aimed at provoking her moans of pleasure. The sound of her fast breathing and her urging touches made him feel like he had the world under his feet. He did not want the feeling to stop. He gently pushed her down and smiled at the sight of her lips, moist and swollen from the kisses and her eyes reflecting the passion and desire seen in his own. He leaned into her hands cupping his face, but her hand snuck away to his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. He bit her lower lip, her breath gliding over his lips and teeth. He leaned on one arm and roamed over her body with the other, feeling the contours of her waist, belly and breasts under his fingers, only thin layers of cotton between his skin and hers. When his hand slid over her breasts, she arched her back slightly, exposing her neck for him to kiss and suck the soft skin gently, getting another soft moan as a reward. He had to feel her, his heart raced in anticipation of the touch. He watched her face as his hand reached under her top. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly, her chest heaving faster. The feeling of her skin under his fingers made his ears buzz. His jeans suddenly felt too tight, his whole body pulsating with desire. His breathing sped up, his kisses became more demanding. But he wanted more than just a quick release. He wanted to give himself to her and to take her for himself. He wanted to hear her cry out in ecstasy and feel her surrendering completely. He slowly undressed her, kissing every inch of naked skin as it revealed itself before his eyes. He unhooked her bra and paused for a few seconds to admire the beauty of her breasts, her hardened nipples so inviting, making him dizzy. He cupped her breast and flicked his tongue over the nipple. She gasped and arched her back offering more. He sucked and bit gently at first, cupping the other breast and teasing the nipple with his fingers. Her moans and movements told him she wanted more and he sucked harder, feeling her fingers digging into his arms and shoulders. It was getting hard to control himself, his body screamed for release, but he still did not have enough of her. He returned to her lips, devouring them with a tinge of fear, as if she might disappear any minute or tell him to stop. He needed reassurance and she gave him that, pulling his t-shirt up and fumbling with his belt. He smiled and kissed her more, letting her undo his jeans and slide her fingers over his chest, down his belly to his boxers. He was so hard it almost hurt. Her eyes widened and his eyes closed as she gripped his erection, their gasps muffled by another passionate kiss. He pulled out of her grip. He still wanted more, he did not want this to finish and her touch brought him dangerously close. “Not yet” he whispered with a mischievous smile on his face and took her panties off in one swift move. Her look of eager anticipation brought back that feeling of complete fulfillment. She was hot and wet under his fingers and they slid inside easily, making her gasp and arch her back more, her breasts calling for him again. He looked at her and enjoyed the sight of her eyes semi-closed, her mouth slightly opened, her hands gripping at the sheets, the muscles on her neck and belly twitching. She moaned and looked at him with hungry eyes, calling for him wordlessly but he continued touching her relentlessly, feeling her tightening around his fingers, seeing her knuckles getting white as she gripped at the sheets stronger. Her gaze grew more absent by the minute, breathing sped up, moans got louder, her body followed the rhythm of his fingers. She tried to pull him in for another kiss but he resisted, whispering in her ear “I wanna watch you come”. Her breathing turned into a series of moans, she squeezed his thigh and her hips bucked up, she cried out and he felt rhythmic spasms of soft flesh wrapping around his fingers, stopping him for a second but he continued the movements enjoying the sight of her trembling under his touch. Watching her orgasm made his own urge to have her unbearable. He lay on top of her, enjoying the full contact of their bodies. She spread her legs and he felt her wetness on his crotch. With last shreds of self-control he entered her deliberately slowly. He leaned on his lower arms and kissed her gently, caressing her blushed cheeks and drowning in her green eyes. She ran her fingers through his hair and over his lips, meeting his every thrust with a movement of her hips, opening herself to him more every time. Every cell in his body enjoyed the feeling of unity with her. It was a feeling he had never experienced before. It was intoxicating and exhilarating and frightening all at the same time. He again felt like the whole world was under his feet, because he was there with her, inside of her, one with her. He sought her mouth to share what he felt through a kiss. But the kiss only added to the magic and it was not enough, he needed to tell her, to verbalize this surge of emotions taking him over, he had to share it, to let her know, to make her understand… “I love you” words flew out uncontrollably making them both stop. He stared at her, breathing fast, his mind hazed. He said it. He really did. “Do you mean it?” she panted, her eyes filled with different emotions, excitement, disbelief, desire, piercing him to the bottom of his soul. “I do” He thrust deeper and buried his face into her neck. “I do” the words melted into inarticulate moans of pleasure. With every thrust and every kiss he increased his pace, rushing to his release and brining her along. Dazed and empowered by his admission, he propped himself up on his arms and gazed down at Magdalena. He thrust harder, images, sounds and sensations swirling in his mind – her arms stretched out above her head, pushing against the armrest, drops of sweat dripping from his hair on her neck and breasts, her nipples moist from perspiration sliding over his chest with every movement, her soft lips parted, calling out his name, her arms moving up to his back, her fingers spreading over his shoulder blades, her legs wrapped around him, her body shaking and trembling under his, surrendering to him and defeating him at the same time. Everything spun around him, leaving only one clear image in his mind – her dreamy green eyes closing, neck arching, mouth opening to let out the final cry that made everything around him freeze as the wave of warmth spread all over his body, forcing out a growl from the back of his throat. The next morning he woke up to realize he was not in his bed. He turned to the other side and looked at the mass of soft blond curls on the pillow next to his. He watched the sheet drawn all the way up to her chin rising and falling in a steady rhythm of her breathing. He snuggled next to her, careful not to wake her up and thought about the night before. A smile lingered on his lips as he closed his eyes and buried his nose into her hair. He woke up free. Free at last. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It lasted for a whole year, that incredible feeling, before it shattered and disappeared with one click on the remote last night. This morning, a year later, on May 04, 2003, he knew he was not free at all. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was just a normal day. I never saw it coming. I was in the studio, unaware of the time. “Have you been down here all day again”, Magdalena massaged my neck, her hands sliding down my chest. Her hair fell on my face, as she bent over the back of the chair to kiss me. I stretched my neck to catch her lips, mumbling my “Yeah” to her question, leading her around the chair and onto my lap. Sparkles in her eyes still danced every time I would look at her. “Just plucking strings, staying in shape. Trying out my birthday present” A shiny silver custom made plectrum flashed between my fingers as I replaced it into my pocket. I cherished that present. I cherished her. It took me a while to think about the right present for her birthday. I tried to think small. It didn’t work. So, come June 2nd she’ll have her own horse. “So, does it fit you?” “Perfectly. Just like you” I kissed her fingers one by one and pulled her in for a kiss. Her tongue invaded my mouth, taking me by surprise, demanding immediate response. “I missed you” she breathed into my neck. She had me as easily as that. Fingers roamed through her hair and slipped down to her neck, holding her steady while I ravished the soft skin around her collar bone. She gasped and quickly undressed us both. I let her take control and watched her every move carefully, adding visual element to overall pleasure that absorbed me completely. She loved eye contact. And I loved watching how awareness would slowly disappear from her eyes as she approached her orgasm. It did so now, giving way to something primal that darkened the color of her eyes from pale green to emerald. I let myself go and drowned in the green. Yup, just a normal day. Dinner smells good. It is my first big cooking endeavor since I actually learned to cook at the young age of forty. Tonight seemed like a good moment to surprise Magdalena with something tasty. By the time she and Lucky come back from the walk, it will be ready for serving. I grab the remote. An idle mind is devil’s playground. Rescue efforts continue following a deadly earthquake… Buy one and get one for free… Next on American Idol… And now for the weather forecast… Join us for another episode of… … forever trust in who we are For only 9.99… Wait. Back. …and nothing else matters Air is stuck somewhere in my throat. Cough. No air. Breathe in. Air stuck again. Lungs protesting, ribs pressing them hard. Another breath. Too sharp, too shallow. She’s staring at me. Air stuck in the middle, pressed down by the lung spasm, forced out by the adrenaline bursting into the heart, forcing it to start beating frantically. I’m out of control. Lips stretch to form a smile. A sad smile, as the heart keeps pumping, body demanding more oxygen my shallow breaths fail to provide. Air rushes over the vocal cords producing some kind of a sharp, high-pitch, short sound. Warmth spreads around my stomach, creeping upwards. It fills my face with fresh, hot blood, my cheeks burn. Why can’t I breathe normally? It feels good, the warmth. It feels good, seeing her again. This should not feel good. No. No. I should change the channel. I cannot. My body is unresponsive. Frozen. What’s happening?! James walks up to her. There is no sound, only buzzing in the ears, buzzing and thumping. And this warmth. This bitter-sweet warmth bringing back the echo of her shouting. You like to share your woman, you like to watch, is that it? Oh, I can do that, watch this! Her mouth tasted bitter-sweet. It was the aftertaste of all the hard liquor she had poured down earlier. The kiss was violent, angry, ferocious. She kept her eyes opened the whole time. That look of sadness… Perhaps I should have kept my eyes opened throughout. Perhaps then I would have been able to just push her away, save myself. But that warmth. That fucking warmth. I just basked in the feeling, completely blinded, frozen, powerless, just like now. All the sound muffled somewhere in the background. I actually tried to slow her down. Fool! Desperate fool! Hope never dies, I guess. Why am I thinking about this. And the warmth… why do I feel it? I needed that blow from James. I needed it to put things back in perspective. The hurt on his face… Heart squeezes painfully. I had dreamed about hurting him so many times before. I dreamt of bullying him back. When I finally did hurt him, it was an anti-climax. Just wrong. Nauseating. I needed that blow. I wished for more as he hit me. The pain was real. I needed it, craved it to bring me back from the wrongness of the fake kiss. Unreal kiss. Real pain. Basking in the warmth. I’m not fighting it. I should be fighting it. Floating. Something’s moving next to me. There’s some sound. Heart is still thumping too loudly. “… that night.” Blond curls, sparkly eyes. The warmth abates leaving behind confusion and racing heartbeat. I smile. “Sorry, what?” “I said I finally know why she seemed so familiar to me that night!” “Who? What night?” “She” Magdalena pointed her finger at the screen. “The night of your first Echobrain gig. I saw her, well actually someone pushed me and I almost fell onto her. She seemed so familiar but I couldn’t remember why. Now I get it, I saw her before, in the papers and on TV, with her band.” “You saw her that night? You’re sure?” air escapes me fast, I try hard to catch it, but my breathing turns shallow again. Lungs squeeze. “Yup, she was there. Why is she up on the stage with James?” “She’s James’ wife” The surrounding sounds fade away again. Eyes turn back to the screen involuntarily. Her eyes… The warmth spreads again all over my body. Thoughts and questions swirl in my head. She was there. The warmth makes me uncomfortable. Buried feelings, unanswered questions, unresolved emotions weave together into a loop around my neck, strangling me. I am not free. Not free at all. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I watched the loving gaze the woman on the TV screen exchanged with her husband. Well, she’s certainly different, to say the least. Physically, she’s flawless. Look at those eyes, her hair, long arms, legs. Such a beautiful voice. Plus she’s a guitar player. Her family seems so happy. Three children… Jason is visibly disturbed. I have never seen him looking so unnerved and unaware. He barely registered my words. The skin on his neck is tense, his muscles move with effort for every swallow. He bites his lips nervously every now and then. He fumbles with the remote. Ever since I met him, I have never questioned my place in Jason’s life. I have never stopped to wonder if us being from two completely different worlds could affect our relationship. I never even questioned our relationship, not once, ever, since that night. I just felt confident, at peace, at home. Secure. Loved. I look at him now as he stares at the screen, as if hypnotized, and a worm of doubt slowly creeps in me. It eats its way through all the barriers of my confidence, security and… love. It feeds in the dusty corners of my subconscious, patiently munching miniature morsels of my painful past. And it grows. I follow the gaze of the man I love to see what he sees. I want to discover what fills his eyes with sadness and longing, to find what makes his lips stretch to the point between a smile and painful grimace. I find nothing but the face of a woman known to thousands but a huge unknown to me. The woman looked at by the man sitting next to me with a look I have never seen before. The look that pains me. The worm eats its way into my heart and rests there, wrapping itself in a tight cocoon. |
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| Margarita | Nov 28 2012, 08:09 AM Post #35 |
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Sand[wo]man
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Chapter 14 3 a.m. I'm wide awake. Again. Alone in the bed. Our bed. Again. I don't have to go downstairs and check. I know it. It all repeats. A perfect pattern. He's down in the studio. Holding his bass, resting his hands on it, staring at the wall. Or watching videos. He's only physically in the present. Every other aspect of his existence is in the past. My eyes burn. My body hurts from sleep deprivation, every exhausted muscle protests at the slightest strain. I know what's coming. I already made that decision months ago. I knew it the first time I saw an absent look in his eyes. I knew that look. I stood there watching him as he talked mechanically, looking through me, impatient to finish the conversation and go back to his seclusion, get his fix, satisfy his hunger. I looked at him and I saw Luc. It was a heavy blow forcing my heart to stagger fighting to maintain balance. My legs were equally wobbly, my eyes tired from chasing his own, my neck strained from trying to put my face in his view. Everything looked and felt the same, the walls closing down on me, the absent look denying me, suffocating me, hurting me. Everything was the same except me. My soul screamed, my heart resisted until it exploded in pieces, but the self preservation instinct prevailed and reason emerged victorious. It had to end. As soon as possible. It was not soon enough. The nausea caused by the thought of another sleepless night ahead followed by another day in this illusion of a relationship was a painful reminder of my procrastination. For a hundredth time I analyzed what went wrong. He never spoke about her. He had never even mentioned her until that night. We never spoke about her again after that. We did not have to. I knew. I just did not know how bad it was. I should have done it before my birthday. Now I have Sun to remind me of him, of what could have been, of happiness felt and then lost. I wish I could cry and not just feel sick. I wish I could just pack up and leave. I wish he would stop me when I tell him I’ll leave, just hug me and make it all gone… Lucky licks my hand. His smart eyes glow in the dark. “You take care of him, big boy.” He places his paw on my hand. I get fully dressed and pack a few essentials. I’ll arrange the rest of it with Steve. He does not turn around when I enter the studio. He’s playing, bent over the bass, rocking slowly. I watch him for a while. The muscles on his upper arms are tense, stretching the sleeves of his T-shirt. His curls cover his neck and fall down on his face as he bows his head while playing. My legs are weak and my lips quiver. The only stronghold at this moment is determination to get away from him. It’s no use waiting for him to sense my presence. It won’t happen. Not anymore. “Jason” I clear my throat with effort. He turns around and smiles at me. His eyes are not smiling. It’s a mechanical smile. A reflex. My heart squeezes painfully. “Hey. Why are you up this late?” He turns to face me and remains seated. “I couldn’t sleep.” “You too, huh?” he takes a look around the room. My nausea worsens. No use beating around the bush. “Jason, I’m leaving. I came to say goodbye.” He looks up at me. “Oh, okay, when will you be back?” The last shred of hope quickly vanishes. My body works under strict directions of my mind. My back straightens, my neck stiffens forcing my chin up. My limbs relax, my throat is clear. My soul runs away to hide and lick its wounds somewhere far away from the dictating reason. “I won’t.” “What do you mean?” there’s a flicker of past warmth in his eyes as he looks at me seeking explanation. “I will not be back. I’m leaving. You.” He shifts in the chair nervously. He lowers his guitar on the floor and stands up approaching me. It’s too late. “Magdalena?” Too late. I squirm at his touch. He quickly withdraws his hand. His eyes gain color. Too late. “Why did you leave the band Jason?” My own voice sounds unfamiliar. A growing sense of detachment overwhelms me. I can feel a part of myself pushed out of my body and away to the far corner of the room to watch. What’s left standing before him is an empty shell. He smiles anxiously, looking me in the eyes. His hands reach out but he quickly gives up. “I don’t understand, why are you asking me this now, you just said you were leaving…” “Just answer me. What was the real reason why you left?” He stares at me. I cannot even imagine what version of me he sees. She certainly sounds different to me. “I… I told you…” his eyes escape mine and look down on the floor, then to the side. “Did you have an affair?” the floor underneath me starts shaking, but the woman standing in front of Jason is calm and blunt. “You… you and Angel. Did you sleep with her and James found out? Is that why you left?” “No” he swallows. “Was it a relationship then? Were you with her before him?” the woman’s voice rings in my ears as I’m standing in the corner of the room, watching the strange woman examining Jason. It’s easier to witness someone else’s pain. “Magdalena, please, this…” “Don’t. Give me some credit. I deserve it. Respect me enough to tell me the truth now.” “It wasn’t a relationship. It never was anything other than platonic. One-sided. It was me… I… she never…” he inhales deeply and finally looks me in the eye. “I was in love with her. No one knew. Not even her. One night she and James had this huge fight, she ended up at my place, James came to get her, she wanted revenge, so she kissed me. That was it. I left after that.” he waives his head lowering his gaze. “How long did it last?” the woman closes her eyes. I do too. It’s easier in the dark. “Many years.” he almost whispers. My heart sinks lower. The woman is relentless. “How many?” “Fifteen” I take the blow proudly. I’m still on my feet. The woman too. That’s good. Words pour out of her mouth while I clench my fists in pain. "Fifteen years of blind devotion, how do I compete with that? How can a year of something real stand against an idea that lived on for fifteen years, that keeps on living?” He reaches out to touch the woman, she takes a step back acting on a reflex. I can see panic in his eyes but it’s not Jason that I see now, it’s another man, a stranger, talking to another stranger in my body. “You don’t have to compete” he almost whispers. She laughs sarcastically. “Don’t I? Look at yourself. Think about the last time you kissed me, can you remember when it was? I've opened up to you. Completely. Because I trusted you!” “It was a finished story by the time we met, I wanted to tell you but then it just seemed pointless and…” “I’m not a jealous schoolgirl, Jason, we’re grownups. I didn’t expect you to give me a list of your past relationships, I didn’t care, I still don’t. It’s about the present. It’s about what’s in your head. You don’t want me. You made yourself believe that it will work out for you, if you stick to someone. To me. And you were ready to live in your little world down here and drag me along. I can’t do that. I need honesty. I need you. All of you. You can’t give me that.” The woman breathes in. The man stares at her in silence. “About my things, I’ll arrange something with Steve. If you want to take Sun back, it’s ok.” The man sighs. “No, of course not. Sun’s yours. I… I’ll keep out of your way.” The woman turns to leave. “Magdalena….” She stops with her back turned to him. My heart starts beating faster. Perhaps… “I’m sorry”, he waits for her to turn around. I choke on the realization that it’s over. “Me too” she walks out of the room, never turning to look back at him. |
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| Margarita | Jan 18 2013, 07:46 AM Post #36 |
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Sand[wo]man
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Days dragged on too slowly. I needed more activity. More things going on. More obligations. More work. Less time. Less opportunity for reflection. I took up everything and anything. I flew from one band to another, staying for a brief time, looking for something, I don’t know what exactly, but something, some kind of fulfillment and when it would not happen, I would just leave, take up something else. It was a good way to fill the time, but there was no purpose. The feeling I craved for ever since leaving Metallica. Some time during the process the clean cut I made finally sank in. Nothing would ever be the same and nothing I ever did would bring back the old life. The old Jason was gone. The problem was that the new Jason failed to show up. Emptiness is the worst. The emptiness inside the four walls I now call my home. Lucky is my only company for the most days, his happy barking a reminder of my too short a stay in another dimension. The one where the new Jason was reality, rather than mere possibility. The one where I had a purpose. I keep my word of course. I stay out of Magdalena’s way. I even told Steve I didn’t want to know anything about her. It was unfair to expect of Steve to spy for me. But fairness was just one reason. Deep down, I feared the day when he would come and tell me that she had moved on. A part of my sad lost self wished for that day to happen, hoping that would somehow ease the guilt and introduce some reason in my unreasonableness. Another part, the pathetic selfish one, wanted that day never to happen. I stare at the Super Nova schedule, without actually comprehending it. Another attempt at reinventing my life. Hope never gives up. A little voice in my head rambles - this might be it. It’s so unlike you, so different, so miles away from all your artistic ways and sensibilities, perhaps it will spawn the new Jason? I laugh ironically at the naïve sucker. Of course it will not. It will just drag me further into a sea of nothingness. But at least it will take up time. Lots of it. Let’s be frank my friend, that is the only thing you are trying to achieve here. Letters on the paper swirl and my thoughts follow their own path again, taking me back to an event of a few days ago, the day when I decided to do this reality thing. I’m at the bookstore, roaming through shelves, lost in thought, which kind of became my natural state, when someone tugs at my sleeve. “Uncle Jase?” Only one person could call me uncle Jase. Angel’s eyes on what is essentially a copy of James’ face meet mine and smile. A few years since I last saw her meant all the difference. A real teenager stands before me now, but the smile remained the same, wide, bright, and childishly honest. I’m getting old, I think for a second, until my heart leaps for joy and arms spread instinctively, embracing her in a bear hug. Happiness. I almost forgot the feeling. “Kitty!!! What… How… Who…” “I’m here with mom, I came to pick up a book for school, and dad’s waiting in the car…” she falls silent, breaking our embrace and looks at me. “I’ve missed you!” she embraces me again. “I’ve missed you too!” I kiss her on the cheek. Someone coughs meaningfully and I feel a pull on my shoulder. Kitty exclaims excitedly “Mom…” but is cut half sentence by a familiar, though now very angry, voice. “Would you mind explaining who are you and why are you kissing my underage daughter?” I turn around with a smile on my face and our eyes meet. Ever since Magdalena told me about seeing her at the gig, I imagined this encounter. I imagined what it would look like to see her again, look her in the eyes, would my heart flutter, would my legs be weak, would I be able to speak, would I feel happy, or excited, or miserable, or sad. What would she say, what would she look like… It slowly turned into an obsession, during the long nights I spent alone in the studio. And here it is, the encounter. I look at my first love and all I feel is pleasant nostalgia for the old days. My heart does not flutter. My legs are not weak. “Hello Angel” I say with a smile. Turns out I can speak too. “Jason” she gasps looking at me for a few seconds before throwing her arms around me. I inhale the familiar scent of her hair. How do I feel? “God, it’s so good to see you! I…” she scans me head to toe, disbelief written on her face. “And you” I smile again, looking at her beautiful eyes. They are slightly darker, her face somewhat thinner, lines sharper, James’ rehab and all that led to it visible on her, though she is still breathtakingly beautiful. “I thought you were some pervert” she laughs, easing the awkwardness of the moment. I laugh too, trying to figure out how I feel. Something’s amiss. Something’s missing from her eyes and her laughter. Kitty wraps her arm around my waist. I put my arm around her shoulders. “Isn’t his hair great mom?” Angel looks at her daughter, then at me and smiles. “It’s long again” she says quietly. The sound of her voice is pleasant but not satisfying. I still have trouble determining how I feel. Something’s missing. “Yeah, I let myself go, I’m afraid” I laugh. “It looks great” she says warmly. Our eyes meet and we look at each other for a few quiet seconds. “How are you Jason?” she tilts her head, her eyes studying me. I hold her gaze. “I’m… fine.” That’s a handy word. Covers up for all kinds of fuckups. I think about what to say next. It is difficult, though. That is funny. Definitely not what I imagined. As the silence prolongs, I keep searching for what’s missing from her eyes. Her phone rings. She looks at the screen and her eyes shine. “We’ll be out soon, baby… yeah, ok.” It dawns on me. Her eyes don’t sparkle. Not for me. I’m fine with that. Her eyes are not the eyes I miss and want. It’s not her that will make my heart flutter and my knees weak. What do I feel? Closure. What else? Regret. Urge to punch myself for always being one step behind. Always so painfully late. For Angel, but that does not matter anymore. For Magdalena. That causes almost physical pain. “James waiting?” I ask smiling. “Yeah…” she lowers her gaze at Kitty. “We should go honey, dad’s been waiting long.” “You should go with us uncle Jase, we can all have lunch together…” Kitty looks at me. “Sorry, pumpkin, I don’t have time to do that.” I ruffle her hair. She pushes me away jokingly. I hug her. “If any boy’s giving you trouble, let me know”. Kitty laughs, blushing and walks away to the cashiers. I hug Angel. “Tell him I said hi.” She looks at me, regret in her eyes. “You should come with us, I’m sure he’d be happy to see you…” I shake my head and smile. “It was good to see you. Take care.” Lucky’s paw lands on my leg, taking me back to the present. Time for his walk. Supernova starts tomorrow. Steve will take care of Lucky. And I will be busy enough not to think. After that? Something will come up, I guess. I do not care anymore anyway. ………….. Waiting for Steve to have our lunch break, I watch Sun and Storm running together, their manes blowing in the wind, clouds of dust emerging form under their hooves. My thoughts gnaw on the same topic, like a hungry dog that refuses to give up an old bone it dug up a while ago. He has never called. Not once. Of course, I knew he would not. He promised. But I kept hoping like a desperate fool. It’s been months and the sound of my phone still startles me. I hate myself for my weakness. I did not watch the show he was in. I could not stand seeing his face on screen. I wonder what he is doing now the show is over. I miss the feel of his skin under my fingertips. My eyes prickle. I take a deep breath. This is so pathetic. I am pathetic. “Magdalena?” Steve sounds breathless. He looks agitated. I quickly compose myself. “Steve, is everything alright?” “No. No, it’s not.” My stomach clenches painfully. I have been seeing Steve every day, I would have known had something been wrong with him. Foreboding sends shivers down my spine. My voice gets shaky. “What is it then” lips stretch into a nervous smile. Steve puts his hands on his hips, looking down. He takes a deep breath and looks up at me. I search his face for clues. Then he starts talking. “Look. I kept out of your and Jason’s…” his hands wave around while he’s searching for the right word “…thing. I did not share any information about you with him and vice versa. With both of you, I pretended like the other one did not exist. I did not agree with it, but I did it. Because you both wanted it so. I thought I was being a good friend. But I’m not. That is not what friends are for. Friends do not stay out of other friends’ business. I cannot do it anymore. I do not want to do it anymore. He will probably hate me because of this, but I don’t care. I also don’t care if you don’t want to hear this, because you must hear it. You need to hear it.” I open my mouth to speak, but Steve raises his hand. “No, let me finish. He is not well, Magdalena. Jason. He is not well. He needs help. And I cannot help him. No one can. Except for you. Perhaps.” Steve rubs his forehead, frowning. He takes another deep breath. “There’s been an accident.” My knees betray me. I lean against the fence. “He’s alive. But he’s not well. He had a surgery, something on his shoulder. He cannot play anymore. His arm and neck are all fucked up. He’s been in Montana for the past couple of weeks, sinking in depression and just rotting on that ranch, completely alone. I tried to talk some reason into him, but he is inaccessible. He is in a hole, Magdalena. And he’s not trying to get out. I think he’s on some kind of crazy self-punishing mission. He cannot sleep. He looks like a shadow of a man. He needs help.” I stare at Steve while every cell in my body works hard to process the information he just threw at me. I open my mouth to speak but am unable to. Words are buried underneath conflicting thoughts and emotions rushing through my brain and heart, clashing, pushing, fighting… Why should I care? It was his choice. All his doing. He wanted things to happen this way. He could have called. He could have stopped me from leaving. He could have done a thousand things, yet he did nothing. He must be in pain. Music means everything to him. So now he has nothing. Except pain. Yeah, and so, I’m supposed to run to him now? To rescue him from himself. Again. Do you really want to do this to yourself Magdalena? What’s in it for you? Does it matter? He needs help. If I can help him, I’m not doing it to get something in return. You are a wreck. Emotional wreck. Completely messed up. How can you help him, if you cannot help yourself? But what if I can help him? Do you have the strength to do it? What if you destroy yourself completely? Is he worth it? Steve looks at me as I stand with my mouth half open, trying to squeeze out a meaningful sentence. “You bring back fallen champions. It is what you do, saving them. See it as a challenge if nothing else. Bring this champion back. Please.” We stare at each other. Funny thing about decisions is that you make them instantaneously but then spend hours, days, weeks trying to justify and verify the choice you have made in a matter of seconds. I did not have time to spare. And I knew I would not change my mind. “The ticket’s been arranged, I presume?” I raise an eyebrow at Steve. He chuckles. “Errr, yes. Your leave of absence too. The transportation from the airport to the ranch also.” “You conniving bastard” I punch his arm jokingly. Steve hugs me. “Thank you. I have a good feeling about this.” “I’m glad one of us does.” Fear overwhelms me. I am still terrified as I pack my things and jump in the car with Steve. I watch the road disappearing underneath the hood as we’re driving to the airport. A suicide mission, that’s what this is. Nevertheless, there is the feeling of perverse, borderline masochistic happiness about seeing Jason again. There is also childlike smugness about the fact that Steve believes me to be the only one who can help him. I am fully aware of the extents of my idiocy at the moment, but I cannot resist it, excitement takes me over. I walk around mechanically, immersed in thoughts. What when I do see him? I cannot just say hi and leave. I will have to spend time with him, stay at his place I guess. Live with him. Again. My heart rate leaves me breathless. Steve squeezes my hand as we enter the airport building. “You’ll be fine”. A practical nuisance serves as a welcome break from my cold feet. “I forgot my iPod.” “I’ll buy you some magazines to read, while you’re checking in” Steve walks away briskly. I manage to make my mind function properly for a while and finish the check-in. I decide to buy some chewing gums and I come across Jason’s favorite cookies. I buy them, silently deploring myself. I locate Steve in the crowd. He’s standing with his back to me. “Hey, look what I found. I had to buy them. Do you think they’re still his favorite?” I babble, realizing too late that Steve is having a conversation with someone else. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…” Steve smiles one of his broad smiles. “Magdalena let me introduce you to Angel” I fumble with the box of cookies, as I shake hands. As my eyes meet Angel’s, I see her eyeing the box in my hand and then inspecting my face carefully. I feel blood filling my cheeks, partly because of embarrassment and partly because of, well, jealousy, I guess. “So, where are you two headed to?” she asks. Steve smirks. “Nowhere. Magdalena and I work together. I came to see her off” “Once a gentleman, always a gentleman. Where are you flying to?” Angel looks at me smiling politely. “Montana” I know I should probably offer more information but I am completely tongue-tied. Angel looks at the box in my hand once again. Our eyes meet for a short moment. Her eyes then lit up upon seeing something behind me. She waves, smiling. A man approaches her, wrapping his arm around her waist, mirroring her smile. “Steve, my man!” he and Steve hug patting each other on the back. From the corner of my eye I see Angel looking at them affectionately. I feel a bit out of place. Steve introduces me to James. He shakes my hand firmly and then his hand searches through the air for his wife’s, while he’s chatting to Steve. Their fingers intertwine. I look at them. Angel’s eyes meet mine again. I look away, trying to cover up my curiosity. “It was nice meeting you, I have to go now”. I hug Steve and promise him for a hundredth time that I will call. I squeeze the box of cookies in my hand as I rush towards the exit. I think about the encounter and an unexpected closure it brought upon. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Well man, where have you been keeping her from us?” James pokes Steve on the shoulder. “I haven’t. We work together. That is all.” “Stop it, James” Angel laughs. “You got it all wrong, as usual” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Black. White. Black. White. Black. White. Jason opens his eyes, his tired pupils ache from the whiteness of the snow covering the meadow in front of his porch. He lowers his lids and returns to blackness illuminated by green and yellow flashes, remnants of the blinding white. He repeats the motion dozens of times focusing on the flashes in the dark. It helps ease the pain spreading from his shoulder through the neck up to the ear and right into the center of his brain. He winces. He swallowed a pill an hour ago. It takes so unbearably long for it to start working. Or is it a full hour already? Perhaps it was only fifteen minutes ago. Time became difficult to quantify. Breathe in. White. Breathe out. Black. White. Black. Red. Black. He winces. What? He opens his eyes again with difficulty. A red figure is moving through the snow. Did he start seeing things? His heart beats irregularly. Is he going crazy? Did he reach the breaking point? His breathing hitches. He closes his eyes quickly. Black. Breathe in. Breathe out. The red figure is now closer. It staggers through the deep snow. He squints. His eyes hurt. The figure continues moving. It is headed towards the house. The red smear is a jacket. Every now and then black legs emerge from the snow before sinking back in. Jason stands up. He is irritated. His head is throbbing with pain. He does not need company now. Especially not some stranded tourist. The stranger reaches the center of the meadow and stops moving for a minute. Jason squints again. It is a woman. She is looking at him. She takes a few large steps towards the house. She takes off her hat and blond curls spill over her shoulders. His knees buckle. He leans against the fence with his good hand. The woman continues walking towards him. His heart starts beating frantically, as she climbs up the few stairs and stands before him. He is unable to move, holding onto the fence. He stares at her warily, finding it hard to believe that the green eyes, the nose, cheeks and lips red from the cold, the beautiful face framed in curls is not an apparition. “Jason” he hears and his legs make a step towards her. They face each other. His eyes follow the movement of her hands as she takes off one glove. He watches her long fingers travelling slowly to his face. His eyes close as he feels warm, soft skin on his cheek. He feels his body falling down on his knees but the warm hand stays on his cheek, cradling it. He keeps his eyes closed and buries his face in her belly. He takes a deep breath. It’s her scent. He cannot imagine the scent. Or can he? In the dark, he hears the rustling of her jacket and feels movement, her body lowering on her knees to line up with his. Both her hands warm his cheeks now, her thumbs slowly stroking the darkened skin under his eyes. He dares to look. Green eyes. Worried smile. “You look like hell” “I am in one” She tilts her head. "Well, what do you say we get you out of it?" Jason’s heart leaps for a second, then sinks deep. “If you're just going to leave afterwards, I don’t care” he looks her in the eyes, searching for answers before she utters them, holding his breath. "I don't think I came all the way here just to leave so soon" He breathes out and takes her hand, kissing it lightly. He feels a weak jerk, as if she tried to withdraw her hand but changed her mind quickly. He kisses her hand once again, squeezing it lightly. "Stay with me” rebellious words flee from his lips. "For good." He waits for her answer anxiously. She says nothing as she stands up and pulls him up. “Come on, it’s freezing, let’s go inside” she takes his hand. He follows her in silence. |
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