His diaphragm convulses, compensating for an oxygen debt. With furrowed brows, eyes shut. Apprehension surges. Again. Like time didn pass, the old, dusty, stale house with no color, the size of a shoe box surfaces. And he bites his teeth against each other fighting to block that menacing event. Ambivalent, her soothing touch pacifies him at the same time, creating an uproar.
Dead in her tracks. The impact of her action is in bold. As if he is going to crucify her. Yes, in normal circumstances he wouldve created a raid already. But why hasn he? Nobody is allowed to touch his chest, not even by accident.
He gives her a volatile gaze. And the urge to comfort her trembling body coarse through him. Trapped in another dimension. She is vacantly staring at him. If a wish is granted to her, going back in time will be an option.
Is he that awful? At the same time its empathetic and irritable. Is she always so clumsy? In some way its appealing. The way her milky hand naturally pressed against his chest burning him.
"I am so sorry. I didn mean—" She removes her hand like it was on a hot plate, her lips quiver and tears jolt down her face.
His thumb trails the outline of her chapped lower lip in slow motion. Taking his time, analyzing the jerking movement they make. And the image of him swamping them— to bring life to them...
"Its okay." He derails from her torturous full lips.
Deep sniffles elude her. "I think its time to get in the water before it gets cold." Her voice is cracking.
He steps in the lukewarm water wobbling, hanging onto her sweaty palm. Body submerged underwater, only his neck is sticking out. Deep shallow breaths leave him. The water glides against his skin tranquilizing him. And the heaviness disappears.
She awkwardly roams around. Hesitant..
"You know you can sit, right?" His voice is a whisper.
"Oh ja. Right." Plopping onto the stool with legs slightly open and arms covering her stomach. She is skimming around, taking in all the details of the bathroom like its the first time she set foot in there.
Her magnified iris glares away when his eyes meet hers.
Clutching on the edge of the square tub he attempts to rise when the water loses its heat. . His weight pulls him down but this time gravity is a little more gentle. He can bear to stand on his own.
It feels better when he grasps onto her though. The extra support is—The concern look in her eye makes it seem like he is important. And the floral scent oozing from her hair creates a temporary heaven in his head. Projecting cold lake water sliding down his skin, with his hands clasping the bare sides of her back, slightly compressing her ribs, using his strength to lift her body into the air effortlessly and her arms relaxed around his neck naturally, with her face a breath away.
The picture disappears when reality hits.
In a gallop, her hands find his lower back, with water droplets drizzling down it.
Side by side they make it into the bedroom area and he slumps his naked body on a settee. Coughing with his hands on his chest.
She scrapes through a built-in cupboard for a robe and a dry towel.
"Here." Handing the items to him.
Her mouth parts when his long fingers reach for the items grazing her thumb.
A light dry cough escapes him."Damn it!" The withdrawal of her touch creates a void. And it stings.
"Are you okay?" Her voice is filled with worry.
He twigs his eyebrow.
"I still think you need a doctor. The wheezing sound you keep making is concerning."
Swinging the towel over his back ."I have an inflamed cartilage thats why."
"Sounds serious." She strokes her arms.
"Not really, I just need to go easy on weight lifting."
"It seems like trouble is always lurking around you."
He shoots her a lingering glance and continues drying his soaked body.
"What happened to your palm?" She says with hesitation.
"Nothing important—" Fastening the cotton bath robe around his waist.
He massages his temple, the persisting migraine brings weakness.
"Come, let me get you to bed. The last thing I need is for you to collapse and blame me for it, right." She takes his arm.
He swallows, guilt building up in his throat.
She helps him lay down.
"Just as you assumed that I like chasing trouble, you sure have trouble being in one place." He says covering his forehead with a hand.
Slipping hair behind an ear, she sits at the edge. Close to landing on the floor with one wrong move.
"Again, there is enough space but you choose to be uncomfortable?" He says.
"Oh yeah? I didn know you can psychoanalyze people." Her voice is filled with laughter in a mocking way.
The sound of her voice boosts his sick body.
"Or am I the problem?" Hissing in between dry coughs.
"Don be ridiculous. Obviously my dress is wet, thats why…"
"Exactly my point."
She scoffs. "Alright, I get the point. Don start with me. At least I don act like some superman who can do it all even when I can barely stand on my own."
"Trust me, I meant it, I could handle it, you just wouldn let me."
"Oh my goodness. You are something else." Slanting her head, breaking into laughter. Revealing her dimples, her eyes slightly close and her vaguely chubby cheeks swells.
"Now whats funny." He says powerlessly. Suppressing the rush to smile too. The jubilant sound is contagious.
"Id rather not say."
"And why is that?" He moves his recumbent body to the sides.
"Forget about it. Its not that deep really." Rising, and his eyes trails behind her.
"Get some rest." The distance between them increases as she motions forward.
"Rose." His mouth relaxes, putting stress on each letter.
She stops in her tracks. Rotating her body with anticipation.
On high alert. She stares uneasy. With a straight stance, her collar bone pulled, tension on full display. Any moment from now, her veins are going to explode if he doesn utter a word.
He swallows hard. "You can sleep on the bed, there is plenty of room."
"Uhhhm..don worry about me. I don mind being on the couch." Hands intertwined.
"I want you next to me." hating himself for the rawness in his speech. "Please." it comes out weak.
Her mouth curls into a fidget smile. Probably evaluating her decision as the worst mistake she is about to make. What is going on inside that meticulous head of his? Is it really a good idea to have her that close to him? When every skin to skin contact moment with her drives him wild. Reminding him of what he can have.
It has been a while—The past six months has been all about perfecting his baby "Lotus Petals"
His body tense as he remembers the significance behind the collection.
"But my dress is drenched.." She pats her stomach area.
"Take it off." The still room begins to move, his words giving life to the walls, the modern decor and the air becomes dense, hurting his throat like it would jogging on a cold morning.
She possessively beams at him, fingers nervously undo the long zipper of her dress, trailing from her neck to her lower back. She slightly bends to peel off the dress, the pleasant imagery sets him ablaze and repercussions of his thoughtless statement strikes. The way her strapless bra is pushing up her inflated chest slowly emanates across his synapse. Her small waist, succulent thighs comparable to full drumsticks. Raw, with meat in the right places, voluptuous body conversely to the bony models always around him.
Modestly she crawls on one side of the bed, leaving a decent amount of space between them. Leos arms reach up the wall to switch off the light, and the lamp on a nightstand next to bed illuminates the room with a warm candle light.
With her back facing him, she lays on her sides.
"Good night." Uttering the words weakly with a scratchy tone.
"Night." Pulling the blanket over his shoulders, his eyes glued to the back of her hairy neck.