One of these days I would have to tell him I didn’t want him to do this anymore. He was quietly pulling me towards him, I was resisting like always, looking anywhere but straight at him and not able to speak. My voice seemed to hide somewhere when he reached this point in our discussions.
“Sean, love, it’s not that I don’t sympathise with you. But you agreed to this before you left last night.”
I nodded, it was true, I’d told him to do this Wednesday. I had been joking though, he knew that, which made this feel slightly unfair. He had first made me agree to meeting him and Sebastian for a beer after work, and then he’d kissed me, looking m in the eyes and said that if I managed to forget about it because of work – again, I did that all the time – I would have to make it up to him.
I’d told him to spank me.
I’d worked a full hour later than I’d said I would.
I’d be spanked in a few moments.
Quite a logical conclusion of course, but I was feeling as if my stomach had vacated it’s usual grounds and ended up hugging my heart for comfort.
Trousers coming off, the room began to feel chilly. This was the third time in my apartment, but far from the third time. Why I let this happen I had no idea, I’d never been big on psychology and never in touch with my feelings. But having Ronan grasp me and treat me like he was completely sure of what should happen to me made me loath to disagree.
Not until the pain was so fierce and hot that I thought about biting his heel did I manage to drive a cry from my lips and then continue sobbing while he spanked. At last he took pity on me and let me slide down on the floor.
So far I hadn’t once clung to him like the first time. I had more control now and I intended to keep the little pride I had left. I’d not allow him to see me as a little boy, even though he treated me like I was one.
“So why was this so bad I had to be punished for it?” I snorted when he reached a hand out to stroke my hair. He gave me a bemused smile and bent to kiss me, sitting down on the floor with me.
“I never spank unless it’s well deserved, Sean, and you told me to, don’t forget that!” he held me for awhile and I rested my head on his shoulder, giving up the fight for the time being. I decided he was a witch, that was the only what I could explain why I let him do this. Bastard!
I had almost fallen asleep when he started speaking again. I listened to him giving me instructions about work again – nothing he hadn’t said before, all of it sane and it was common sense and courtesy and all of that, but it didn’t change anything really.
It only felt half wrong this, it was as if I couldn’t quite get my mind around this enough to form an opinion on it. It wasn’t a good part of our relationship, that much I knew, but was it a bad enough part to be made an issue of? Probably.
“Does it still hurt?” he asked caressing my sore left cheek with a steady, but gentle hand, I nodded a little. “Very?”
“Not too…” I kissed him. It would feel better if we had sex, it always did.
“You’re a darling, darling,” he said and rose, I shook my head and told him he was an idiot, which made him chase me into the bedroom where we both ended up laughing more than kissing.
I’d talk to him tomorrow.
I didn’t. And not the day after and then suddenly things took an unexpected turn. Time or life or fate made the decision for me. There was no time to talk to him about anything after that.
Ronan was pressed close to me, dancing, his
movements smooth and sensual and he was driving me half mad, it’d been years
since I considered sex in the mens last, but I was ready to pull him in there
right now. It was a Saturday night and we were at a club called Heaven, the one
on
It wasn’t our idea of course, it was dear Brian’s. Where was he anyway? Right, over getting his future told by one of the tarot card readers – how he could believe in such nonsense was beyond me. The only time he’d tricked me into going I’d been astonished to hear I would marry and have three wonderful children – I was still dreading the day.
But to be honest Brian was not quite at the forefront of my mind at present.
Suddenly someone’s hand was on my bum and it wasn’t Ronan’s – his were around my neck and as I turned my head I nearly knocked my lover’s teeth out, kissing can be such a hazard. Behind me a rather sweet looking guy with bleached hair winked at me, and received a killing glare in return.
“Let’s get another drink,” Ronan suggested, leading me away from the dance floor. I glared back at the guy once more but he’d disappeared in the crowd.
Little did I know, as they like to put it in those old fashioned crime novels, that I would soon meet a man who would wreck more than my night out, someone who’s mere existence would make me realise I knew less about the man I loved than I did about Captain Kirk.
“Ronan! You devil, been quite awhile, innit?” someone slim and sexy came up and kissed my lover’s cheek and Ronan smiled without a trace of embarrassment. A long face with narrow eyes and a pointy nose turned slightly to glance at me, to then ignore me as if I was only some uninteresting part of the scenery.
“Desmond, how nice running into you!” Desmond? How is it that people you despise on sight almost always have names to go with it? “My, it has to be, what six years? At least! Ah, this is Sean, we’re…” he looked at me sheepishly. “Well, do I dare say boyfriend, or is that too trite?” He grinned with that teasing look of his and I couldn’t help but frown slightly.
“Call it what you like,” I murmured and took my drink from the bar and turned my back on him.
I pushed through the crowd and to an empty table. Where I put my drink down; that was a precaution, if he made me lose my temper I’d throw it in his face and I hated making scenes and drawing attention to myself.
The music was suddenly too loud and the room too crowded. I caught myself wishing Brian would turn up, just to prevent my confrontation with Ronan over my peevish behaviour.
“Excuse me…” I heard him mumble to this Desmond, and then come up behind me. For an instance all I could think was that he was probably furious and that I’d be in so much trouble when he got me home – but I suppressed the urge to immediately apologise and gave him an icy glare.
“What’s going on?” he whispered in a tone that was as far from angry as it could get, it was more curious and rather seductive, unless I misheard him completely; I blinked vacantly at him – my defences had been utterly prepared to face his wrath with sarcasm and ice, but now they were shrugging and returning to their posts, leaving me speechless instead.
“Er… I… I wasn’t…” I said very expressively.
His smile had that bemused sparkle as if I’d surprised him, and then he got a look as if he’d seen an adorable kitten, his face brightening and he laughed a little.
“Oh, Sean, that’s so sweet of you…”
“?” Don’t ask me how to pronounce it, but that’s what I said.
“You’re jealous. It’s quite flattering, if unnecessary…” he kissed my cheek and waved Desmond over, I was so confused I forgot to look cold and scowling.
It turned out Desmond was an old university acquaintance of his and that they had mutual friends. They reminisced for some time, speaking of people they’d known and kept saying it was a shame they hadn’t kept in touch and other pointless things that you say to old friends you meet in a club late on a Saturday night – early Sunday morning actually – when you’d rather be on your way home for a good fuck.
I was about to voice this opinion to Ronan, in fewer and more discreet words naturally, when Brian showed up, his eyes large and a bit wild. He grabbed onto my hands and pulled without a word.
“Well, come on! Sean! I need you to dance with me!!” he sounded clearly desperate.
“What? No! Why?” I said not terribly willing.
He frowned and blew upwards so that his bangs fluttered – well not his bangs he was for some reason wearing funny coloured hairpieces – it looked positively ridiculous not to mention fake hair had made me feel rather ill for awhile now. He didn’t let go of me.
“You have to! This guy won’t leave me alone and I need him to! Come on!”
“I’ll dance with you, Tessa,” Ronan took his hand and spun him around leading him into the throng of bodies on the floor. Bastard! This was just bloody typical. Now my sexy boyfriend was dancing with my frivolous ‘girlfriend’ – things couldn’t get better. I even had Desmond to keep me company, lovely.
Desmond twirled his glass around. I watched him for a moment; his eyes were really not friendly, not that he was glaring at me, they were just so thin they made him look angry in a way.
“You haven’t been with Ronan for long, have you?” he said suddenly. Quite a blunt question if you asked me and I didn’t appreciate it.
“Fourth month, actually, if you must know.”
“Fourth?” he looked quizzically at me for a moment and then looked away with a small smile that wasn’t a smile. “Well, that’s somewhat odd, I would’ve though he’d asserted his authority about now… he always used to have his boys at his beck and call after only a few days, they’d know not to defy him back then. But perhaps he’s not as strict nowadays.” Desmond showed his teeth in shameless little grin.
I froze. What the hell was that supposed to mean? The implication hit much too close to home and I swallowed hard and decided to change the subject. However I never had the chance.
“Not that I remember him with guys like you, you’re well… not his type, as I recall it. Most submissives knows to show it,” he chuckled still smirking. “Well, Ronan’s an experienced Top he’ll know how to deal with you,” and then a small wink as if we were in on some secret.
My heart was thumping hard, I simply did not want to let my mind draw the obvious conclusion of what he was saying; and neither did I want to admit that he had me really quite anxious at the moment. This was surreal, he was talking about someone I didn’t know, he couldn’t know about us, about what Ronan and I… How could he think he had any right to talk to me like this?
“What on earth would you know about what I am like in the bedroom from seeing me for five minutes in a club?” I said finding some of that sarcasm that Ronan didn’t like me using ‘because it was hurtful and people might take it the wrong way.’
“Oh, what a tone, what would Ronan say, eh?” he said with a new smirk.
“He can bloody well kiss my arse! And if you’ll excuse me…” I disdained offering an excuse and left the table for the mens, feeling a shiver because I knew what Ronan would say.
No taxi ride could have been colder, even in midwinter. I had sat down opposite to him instead of next to him and he was looking at me strangely. He had tried asking me why I had been rude to Desmond, then he’d tried to ask what Desmond had said, but I refused to think about it and had resolved to simply put it behind me.
Not so easy though.
“Mine?”
I shrugged, looking out of the window.
“I bet I can put a smile on your face if you come up,” he stated a teasing little grin on his face. God he was so sexy!
“Wouldn’t bet real money on it…” I muttered irritably.
He seemed both surprised and hurt by that, but I ignored him. The thoughts were spinning, twirling and eating away at me. For awhile it had felt almost, not quite, but almost as if it was completely normal, but now I felt strange, worried. I had only two options, one was to put this away in a neat little folder and forget about it, the other was to consider it and make a decision, but I didn’t want to think about it.
The taxi stopped at his address and I went with him, knowing full well that I was walking into a fight and also how fights ended… now I knew why.
“Tea?” he said caressing my hip while passing me in the hallway.
“It’s
“Tea and toast then perhaps?” he laughed.
He didn’t understand that I was angry, I realised. Or was he ignoring it? Giving me a chance to actually do that too? Or was it that we’d come across a situation where he couldn’t see right through me? In a way that thought disappointed me.
I went into his bedroom and looked at his bed. It was always made, as if that happened when we weren’t looking, and of course I’d owned mine far longer than I’d known him, but I’d slept sounder and for more hours in this bed than ever in my own.
He came up behind me, his arms going around my waist and his hands down my trousers, we were so much closer now, he risked being brazen and knew I wouldn’t mind at all. He kissed my neck and breathed hot air on my back through my shirt, while gently stroking me. I shuddered breathing in deeply, he’d found places on my body that not even I knew could feel that good.
“I so wanted to drag you into the mens when we were dancing…” he groaned as I slipped around to facing him, my mind stopping for awhile, thought unnecessary.
“Me too…” I whispered his lips were hot and moist and he was kissing me with sheer hunger.
“Hm?” he smiled against my mouth, his tone teasing but wanting, “why do I find that hard to believe?” ridding me of my shirt he ushered us towards the bed, kissing, licking, biting – my nipples were aching for attention and he well knew that. Other parts were aching too.
“I’d fuck you at a bus stop, you bastard!” I hissed as his hands came up between my legs searching and finding what he was looking for sending a jolt through me so strong I had to gasp for air for a moment.
“Bastard am I? Well a lucky bastard then…” his tongue teased the tip of my cock.
“You’re gonna finish me too soon…” I could just barely speak.
“No, I’m not,” he promised gently and he didn’t.
The open blinds and the streetlights’ reflection on the wet asphalt made obscure patterns on the ceiling, I studied them and tried to make out shapes. It’s was getting lighter. Sleeping had been out of the question, my pleasant drowsiness had disappeared at his first soft snore – I’d made the mistake of thinking how easily I’d got used to that little noise and my thoughts had gone downhill from there.
How easily hadn’t I got used to everything about him? I already knew every line on his face and watching him, even in the predawn light stirred something warm inside me, but now that feeling was mixed with something else, something dark and wary and I felt my chest tightening.
There was so much about him that I didn’t know. Who was he really? In the three and a half months I’d known him how much had he told me about himself? Not enough obviously, not nearly enough.
He sighed turning ever so slowly over and letting me go.
For a long time it had been hard admitting how much I liked him, how every little gesture he made would make me long to touch him. How the sound of his voice over the phone would make my heart skip a beat and other parts of me declare that not only did they want to have a beer with him they wanted all of him as soon as they could. Now I felt, and admitting that was even harder, insecure.
He never called my office, only my cell phone, he knew I was tense about the people at work finding out and respected it. We fought every now and again, about my work mostly to be honest, about me shutting him out as well. I was the one who were never allowed secrets or privacy – he wanted, demanded to know everything.
I gritted my teeth. Bastard! Lying bastard!! Lying perverted bastard!!! Wonderful, that really made me feel better, I thought angrily while guiltily chewing on my lip.
I cautiously rose and put my feet on the floor. Bending over to pull my shirt from the floor I felt him move, but he didn’t wake; after putting my trousers, socks and his slippers on I made my way into the hall where I’d left some things earlier in the evening, knowing we would go back to his and not wanting to leave all my work at home – he’d frowned at it naturally.
“When did you get up?”
I looked up absentmindedly at his drowsy face, that
bemused smile playing in his eyes as he watched me. His dark blue robe had the
ability to make him look dignified even though he was wearing nothing
underneath and was padding bare footed on the carpet. I shrugged in response,
checking the time –
“I’ll put some coffee on, shall I?” he yawned walking into the kitchen. “You’ll end up like that ghost in Harry Potter, getting up one day and forgetting your body…” he called to me and I chuckled. Peter had shoved it down my throat and Ronan had been reading it on and off when at my apartment, while refusing to take it home with him until I had read it – not that that would ever happen. I didn’t read much and a children’s book – not bloody likely.
As we sat together over breakfast I stared down in my cup and must have looked a million miles away for his hand suddenly covered mine and I looked up into concerned eyes.
“You didn’t sleep last night did you?” his sixth sense appeared to be working again; I sighed, shrugging again.
We hadn’t talked much about the past, little things now and then, I knew he didn’t have a father, he knew why I liked Peter’s parents better than my own, I knew he’d come out when he was thirteen, he knew I’d come out while living in Manchester… but it was mostly little things, as if the past meant nothing. I’d just realised the past might not be completely insignificant.
He rose very suddenly and turned towards the sink. I swallowed, certain he was going to turn around, eyes blazing, telling me quite seriously that we’d talked about my not telling him what was wrong before and that I knew better than to hide things. But there was something about his hunched shoulders, his hand going up to his eyes and his desperate grip on the cup that told me this wouldn’t turn into one of our ordinary arguments.
The hand about the cup trembled, and I was up before I’d realised what I was doing.
“Don’t strangle it!” I snapped, taking the cup from him.
He smiled weakly at me from the side, the smile had a slightly ironic curl and he nodded, then he took the cup back and drank the last of his coffee. I was much too confused and the misgivings I’d pushed aside earlier through work returned, like a fist to my stomach.
I’d got used to having him nonchalantly pushing me around as if that was within his right and me muttering about it while saying it was only for now, I’d tell him off one of these days, but never doing so. This was a crack in his facade that let me see something that worried me, simply because I had no idea what it meant.
“Sean, you know I love you don’t you?” he said quietly into his cup.
“I… I guess…” I mumbled, not sure of how to reply. “Me too…” I felt it should be added, though he hardly appeared to be listening. He’d closed his eyes and was focused on breathing, or that’s what it looked like, breathing and concentrating hard on some unpleasant thought.
“And… and that I’d never hurt you?” we looked in opposite directions my heart beating hard and my thoughts never stopping to pass the torch simply running past each other. Why did he feel he had to say that? What did he mean?
“I’m… you’re not making sense!” I muttered. “I’m tired and you’re not making sense!”
He slammed the cup down and grabbed my arm, one hand going up to turning my face towards him, his eyes weren’t unkind but his face was rigid, kind of frozen. He searched my face for something, but I’m not sure whether he found it or not; then he frowned slightly.
“Well what did you think? Staying up all night like some teenager? You haven’t slept! Of course you’re tired!” he let me go and took a step back, glaring at me, I just nodded faintly that I’d heard him.
The silence was of a kind that made me recognise there hadn’t been this type of silence between us for a long time – not this awkward not knowing what to say but desperately needing to silence.
I felt so hopeless and the tension was starting to drive me mad. It wasn’t like him to be quiet. He was always able to make me want to run out of the room with my hands over my ears, but he wasn’t making speeches and he wasn’t lecturing – he wasn’t talking at all.
“Say something…” I hissed and felt as if I was choking on the words.
“I…” he turned away again. Damn him! Bloody bastard! He stood where he had been a minute ago, leaning over the counter his hand going to his eyes as if he tried to rub away whatever it was that made his head hurt. “I don’t know where to start, what to tell you.”
“Anything!” I snapped, far too loudly, “sorry,” I added when he looked at me.
“All right, let’s start with last night,” Ronan drew a deep breath and gestured towards the table. Sitting down I felt as if things were moving into familiar territory. Much too familiar. I didn’t want to talk about last night, last night was about me and I wanted to talk about him. Still I gritted my teeth and decided not to disrupt things by complaining. “What, exactly did Desmond tell you?”
Tell me? As in ‘what did he reveal?’ Not as in ‘what did he say to piss me off?’ That’s what his tone seemed to be implying, or so I thought. I could be wrong.
“I suppose… he said… well he…” I sighed feigning indifference. His expression was one of faint unease and he kept looking at me as if I would disappear, which made me rather uncomfortable. “He seemed to think I should be more, I don’t know, obedient… talked about things like… like tops,” I said letting out a slightly sarcastic laugh as if it was quite a silly idea, “like in… you know…” I looked at him knowing I should expect his confirmation, but still seeing him nod a tired look on his face made me cringe.
There was nothing more I wanted to hear at this point and I wished I’d never asked. How could I have ever let myself believe that there was nothing like that behind his treatment of me. All the times I’d told myself I wasn’t going to let him walk all over me, that I didn’t need him thinking for me; why hadn’t I realised how strange it was?
“I was for a period of time experimenting, but it’s a very long time ago… ten years or more, you have to understand, I wasn’t the same back then and it’s really not something I want to talk about. Can you respect that?”
I stared into my now empty cup as if I expected a singing mouse to pop out, it would’ve seemed almost sane at this point. Respect? Respect that he’d keep on lying and hiding things? I wondered resentfully whether he would’ve allowed me to keep secrets like that, secrets that affected everything I knew about us. Everything I felt.
Shaking my head decisively I looked up, but couldn’t meet his eyes. I simply locked on to a spot above his shoulder and stared blindly into the air.
His voice was distant, but I heard him talking. Anger welled up in me and my teeth moved tensely against each other. I was so stupid. Hadn’t control freaks always been on my list of people not to fuck?
“Sean?!” he insisted on my attention and I glared back at him.
“I didn’t want to believe you got off on it, didn’t want to think you were using me like that. It’s so sick! All the time making me feel guilty and…” he got up and began moving towards me, his face calm and worried at the same time. He wanted to reassure me, comfort me, tell me I had it all wrong, but not this time, I would not let the bastard lure me in.
“Don’t! There’s really no need!” I said caustically and his face turned even sadder, I didn’t want to see him, not like that. It made me feel as if I was making a mistake. But I told myself I wasn’t.
I rose and began to take my cup over to the sink, but paused. Such a little thing that had meant so much, one little step into the trap followed by many others. Him telling me what to do and me underestimating the power he was gaining over me.
The sound of the cup against the counter top echoed in the silence and I straightened my back and walked out of the kitchen, heading for the living room and my paperwork, strewn carelessly over his things. I rapidly began to collect them without looking up at him as he entered, stopping in the doorway, his eyes boring into my neck.
Bloody hell! Couldn’t he just disappear?
“Sean, what are you doing?” he asked softly. I declined answering, though a hundred sarcastic replies formed in my head. “Please, we won’t solve anything if we don’t talk this through!” he sounded more assertive suddenly.
“I’m not solving this your way. We’ve nothing to talk about!”
“Fine then I’ll do the talking and you will listen!”
Oh no, there was not a chance in hell I’d allow him to do that to me now. What could he possibly think I would want to listen to? I cut my finger on a paper as I shoved them into the briefcase and chose a few imaginative curses. The roses on the window sill that I’d given him seemed to taunt me. They clashed with the curtains anyway, pink petals against carmine velvet, he should’ve put them in the bedroom, they’d go fine with blue, but he wanted to see them…
His hands came up around my shoulders, tender like always, and for just a second I wanted to throw myself in his arms, but then I shook him off and gave him an icy glance.
“You’re not walking out before we’ve had a chance to talk!”
“No,” I answered resolutely shaking my head, a pain growing in my chest and throat. “There’s nothing more to say, I can’t do this, don’t you understand? It would be a lie and I’d hate myself for it. I’m not giving in to you again.”
“I’m not saying you have to, I’m saying we can work this out and…” he reached out and pushed his hand away.
“No! Don’t! I’ve had enough of you!” I choked, the pain growing unbearable. In my mind I begged him not to say anything more, not to make this so hard.
As I started to walk away from him I knew he would stop me. I felt his hand reach out for me even before it touched. He pulled me back, gently but firmly, trying to decide what I should do, what he wanted me to do.
“Sean, I’m not letting you go that easily!”
“Stop being so bloody stupid!” I turned around shouting. “I don’t want you to come near me! I trusted you! And all the time you lied and used me, I don’t need this in my life! So leave me the bloody hell alone!”
He stumbled backwards a tiny step and I could almost see in his eyes how my words hit him. I felt guilt like I hadn’t done in years, but also satisfaction; he’d hurt me so why shouldn’t I get even? Why shouldn’t he know what he’d done?
“Go home, think for awhile, I’ll be here…”
“You can bet I’m going home, but I won’t be in touch. I’ve said… what I needed to…” I dashed out, taking my jacket, half running down the steps my heart pounding and my chest aching undeniably. The world seemed grey and almost foggy as it slipped by me.
Not until I reached the bus stop did I realise I was still wearing his slippers.
Bloody twat that I was I’d not taken the car last night. I should’ve taken the car. Why hadn’t I taken the car? Obviously it hadn’t quite occurred to me that I’d be breaking up with Ronan in the morning. That was hardly the thing I normally did.
Anger had been replaced by some numb sensation and I was thinking impossibly clear at present, the grey blur had suddenly very sharp contrasts and the colours seemed awfully bright, details seemed to come closer while the background dimmed. My eyes fell on a little girl who was staring alertly at me, she looked at my feet and then whispered something to the man on who’s lap she was sitting. He drew her protectively closer. What was I? Jack the slipper? I sighed inwardly, my sarcasm lacked a certain sting at the moment.
Groaning I thought about getting off, but walking would probably draw even more attention to the blasted slippers.
Now had I lived anywhere but just outside
To my great surprise some fiend had without my approval changed my locks while I was away and my movements became more and more frantic as I tried to turn the key. Finally I hit the door as hard as I could with my fist, cursing rabidly and yelling something about it, the door, getting out of my way.
The door opened.
And as if a door with it’s own mind wasn’t enough to give me heart attack I of course had to come face to face with the one person I least wanted to see, well one of the people I least wanted to see anyhow.
“Dad?” I stared dumbfounded at him for quite
awhile. “How was
“Sean Patrick! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” Yes, probably, not that I was exactly sure of the reason at the time.
I bowed my head slightly and stepped inside, I let him lead me into the kitchen as if he owned it and not I. I put my briefcase away and watched the foot tapping irritably next to me, looking up my father’s face was brightly red, like an overripe tomato.
“You’ve been out all night, haven’t you? Didn’t we agree there would be nothing like that happening when you came back here? You were supposed to behave responsibly and focus on your career, weren’t you? What did you do?”
‘Who did you do?’ He meant of course, but being my father he would never put anything quite so bluntly. I shrugged and swallowed, Ronan’s touch as we danced coming back and I gritted my teeth. I’d not even told them about Ronan, they must know though, Peter’s parents didn’t keep what they perceived to be good news quiet for long.
I was overcome by an empty feeling thinking about how saddened they’d be at this news. Then again this whole mess was their fault. Hadn’t I done just fine before they started to meddle in my love life? And of course bloody Linda had to drag that bastard into my life!
“Sean Patrick!!”
“Sorry? Oh, I was just out…” I muttered.
“With that Robert fellow?”
They had told. The fact that he hadn’t bothered to memorise his name didn’t bother me half as much as the derisive, annoyed tone as if he was talking about something utterly offensive. He’d never even met him! Then it hit me I had no reason to feel defensive where he was concerned; I hated myself for suddenly lacking the ability to swallow.
“Your mother has been beside herself. Have you even considered your career? I didn’t get you that job for you to ruin my reputation!”
“I wouldn’t and you didn’t…” he cut me off again, leaving me frustrated and cornered.
“Does it make you feel proud upsetting your mother at every chance you get? You ought to be ashamed of yourself! She has enough to worry about without you getting aids or… or… I don’t even want to think about it!”
I stared at him. This was just not happening, I couldn’t deal with one of my father’s psychotic lectures today. I had tried to point out to him at various occasions that if my mother was so worried then perhaps she could bring herself to actually speaking to me and not just hand the phone over to him with a stifled sob every time she picked up. At least he yelled at me.
“Can we have this conversation at an other time. Now is really not…” I choked on the words even as he was ignoring me yet again and continuing his brusque tirade of questions.
“Well who the hell is he? Some pansy, half-woman, I suppose – like that, that designer person you’re so smitten with?”
“What? No… leave Brian out of this! And you’ve no reason to be so condescending!” my voice rose despite me trying to clear my head and not shout. However I wasn’t in a very reliable state of mind at present and I was nearing the point where I’d toss him through the door.
He glared at me and seemed almost about to box my ears like when I was younger. But he composed himself and sat down in the sofa. He’d shifted my paperwork I noticed. Actually looking about he’d shifted a lot of things. Thrown some magazines away and opened my mail. I stared for a moment in utter astonishment.
“How did you get in here, by the way?” I said pointedly while picking the magazine up from the dustbin. “And who gave you the right to open my bloody bills?”
“
“Had what?”
“The key of course! Are you so bloody stupid?” he glared at me. “Don’t suppose you could get me a cuppa?”
I swallowed hard, not allowing myself to scream. How could they? I sighed, damn their daft interfering goodwill! I’d given them the key for emergencies, not my parents because I didn’t trust my parents to stay out – which my father had proven they wouldn’t, or that he wouldn’t anyway.
It was simply too much to deal with right now, but I needed to get the key back all the same, I would not have him come in here like this, it would kill me – or I’d kill him.
“Could I have it back?” I asked, my voice rather unsteady.
“Have what back?” he asked in his gruff sort of way.
“The bloody key!” I snapped.
“Well now, mind you language boy, if you weren’t so old I’d…” he dug up the key from his pocket and handed it over thankfully, without more complaints. He didn’t know where he had me my father, like I was never sure where I had him. There was no trust, nor love lost between us.
He’d never been around much when I grew up and I knew he blamed himself for the way I turned out, as he put it. I didn’t remember what my mother had been like even though she’d always been there. That frightened me sometimes, that I didn’t remember her from back then.
He was still sitting in the sofa staring out the window.
“Ruddy fancy place you got here… too bad you don’t keep it neat… a woman would be good for that…”
It was quiet again and I could here my own breathing, it was heavy, reminding me of Vader’s if I was honest, and if I was even more honest I could hear how tired I was.
“I’d like you to leave, I’ll ring…” I said levelly.
“Tossing me out, are you? You little bugger! Is that a way to treat your father?!” his face had turned red again. I sighed inwardly, he would turn everything into a fight.
“I’ll ring, talk to mother… whatever you want, I just want to be alone now!” I tried to speak calmly and reasonably and also to stay that way even though my head was pounding and all I could think about was having a bloody big drink and go drown myself in the bathtub.
He got up and left for the hallway. Then he came back and stared at me. I turned and we stood facing each other for a minute or two – it felt like an eternity.
“You’d tell us if you were in trouble, wouldn’t you?” he said at last. I closed my eyes and just groaned, why was everything so damn hard for him to understand?
“Would you get out! I’m so sick of people interfering with my life!” I shouldn’t have used the tone I did, I knew as soon as I had. His face turned red once again and I was nearly afraid he’d have a heart attack.
“Someone has to! Look at you! Out with god knows what weird characters
all night! And then you prance around
“Fuck off! Go to HELL!! Just get out of my sight! OUT!!” My voice rose to a roar with bottled up anger and I drove him out by simply walking towards him until he was out the door. I slammed it hard and sank down on the inside, the back of my head banging against the wood and tears finally streaming down my face.
“Yes I’ll be right on it! …Hm, only three… Sure! Right now, it’s as good as done… yes of course…” finishing up with the client I hung up the phone and returned to my computer. Two new mails, from a client… I don’t know what I was expecting but somehow I was disappointed every time I check my inbox.
I was drifting. There’s no other word for it. I felt as if I’d lost hold of something, maybe time itself. Lately I wasn’t talking to practically anyone actually; I was avoiding Peter after the confrontation with his parents over the key and I hadn’t heard from Brian or… well that covered all my friends didn’t it?
My blood was still boiling over the whole key incident and Harry and
I flatly refused, but made a few lame excuses about being upset about what my father had said… I hadn’t mentioned Him. He meant nothing now, couldn’t, mustn’t mean anything. Can’t say it helped things much that Linda wrung the phone from his hands and laid into me about breaking His heart. I’d hung up before I decided to put out a contract on her life.
“Sean? Do you have a minute?” Charvi sat down on my desk, I glanced up at her, her clothes were always seriously mismatched, and still she managed to look as if they really weren’t, and her earrings were of a kind Brian would kill for.
“I suppose,” I answered and gave my mouse a little push.
“Um, lovely tie you’re wearing,” she said and smiled, stalling obviously.
“Er, thanks, I got it from my…” I bit my tongue, I truly did – it hurt!
“Your girlfriend?” she said smiling as if relieved.
“Mm,” I muttered, my tongue really throbbed.
“Well that settles that. We thought you’d broken up. Well, what with you being so pining lately. Cameron has a bet on with Mitch, the bloke from development, and all,” she smiled and got up.
Cameron had a bet on? I felt a serious headache coming on.
It was strange, instead of burying myself in work I was beginning to let it slip. It was really odd, I’d never done it before, I kept taking on as much as before, but somehow I seemed to have piles and piles of folders surrounding me and nothing got done as quickly as it used to.
No wonder Cameron had a bet on.
Something as routine as gathering my things by the end of the day felt somehow very difficult, and time and time again I found myself thinking that perhaps I shouldn’t take this or that with me just in case he saw how much I had to do. And then realising it didn’t matter.
I dropped a folder as I closed the door to my office and bending to pick it up a pair of shoes came in my line of vision… little less than three steps away. I straightened up and my heart stopped for a moment. I almost smiled. I almost screamed.
His eyes were so soft, so serious and yet slightly worried. I wondered how I looked – as if I’d swallowed a nail most likely. For much too long it seemed nearly impossible to turn away. And then the moment was gone. He made a move as if to nod at me, but I turned around, my heart in my throat and rushed off towards the stairs. If I got stuck in a lift with him I’d die.
There were mere inches between me and my boss’s car when I drove off, but I didn’t care, I just wanted to be far, far away.
Why had he been there? He hadn’t been up there since the firm got his fucking project, so why did he have to come there and stir things up again? I had almost made myself believe that I could get over him like I’d got over every other passing fancy, but the way my hands trembled on the wheel I couldn’t very well lie to myself.
I stopped at a fork, not going left and not going right, just sitting there, my shaking hands clinging to the wheel and a dull ache in my chest. My eyes became misty and I had to shake my head hard. The car behind me saw fit to point out the fact that I was standing still – apparently I didn’t know. At least I was angry enough to point out that the driver of said car could shove at least two of my fingers somewhere where the light didn’t shine when he roared past me as I made the turn.
I did feel better after that.
Entering my apartment I was calm again. Still feeling rather shattered, but handling it much better. I poured myself a whiskey and lifted it solemnly to my lips, first letting the scent of it surround me. That was something Ronan always did, I realised – honestly he even did that when he drank coke. A smile flickered across my face.
I put the glass down and stared out the window. Yes I missed him. I’d been in love, he’d let me down. Anyone would feel like this after a nasty break up, wouldn’t they? I hadn’t ever had one before so I didn’t know whether what I was feeling was really accurate.
But he’d betrayed me… violated me in a way… I sighed, that didn’t fit it just didn’t, it felt too harsh to say that. And still I was really hurting, he’d done that to me, but not through any abusive behaviour, and he hadn’t demanded me back, hadn’t threatened, nothing. Not a word actually.
Maybe that was what was wrong, this hadn’t been resolved, it felt as if I was still waiting for something.
There was a knock on the door and my heart jumped up in my throat. Before I reached the hall the knock came again, harder. Who did I know who didn’t use the bloody doorbell?
I opened and frowned in an almost shocked sense of foreboding. The stranger I’d thought I saw, wasn’t a stranger at all, I’d known this timid little boy a few years ago, a small, slight Manchester boy, who dressed in sweaters twice his size and hid under a dirty red cap. His pretty, nearly girlish features was marred by an ugly bruise and he was so pallid I thought he would faint.
Nothing short of a disaster could’ve caused this change. I reached out a hand to steady him before he fell over the threshold.
“What’s happened, Bri? What is it?”
TBC