“Didn’t you hear me what I said?” He said out of frustration when I didn’t move from my place. “Come here” he repeated, his patience becoming thin.
He poured another glass, downing it quickly before filling it up again.
The alcohol was clearly affecting him, and his control was slipping away. I couldn’t trust him like this. It seemed wise to wait until the morning to talk to my parents.
“Just let me be. I don’t want to talk to my parents” I said, averting my gaze while still sitting on the floor.
“You still don’t get it” he said, taking a slow sip. “It’s not about what you want. It’s about what I want. And right now, I want you to my lap ” he said it as if it were something normal for him.
Isn’t he tired of all this?
My eyes shut, and I exhaled deeply. I am exhausted physically and mentally, leaving me drained and unable to put up a fight.
“You see this?” His words reached my ear and opened my eyes.
“Your home” I suddenly became attentive, and almost instinctively, my hand moved towards my mobile, but he pulled it just out of reach.
The image on the screen showed my old house in another city. After my brother’s death, I convinced my parents to stay there temporarily, hoping the change of surroundings would help them cope as I delved into the case. It hadn’t been easy to persuade them, but I had done it to save them from all the mafias. I knew the fight with them was going to be tough, and I didn’t want to hurt my parents. They don’t even know who was involved in my brother’s death or against whom I was fighting.
“Your parents are inside” I could see a man moving around casually. No one could suspect him but he had a purpose ” one call from me and my man would set your home in fire”
Goosebumps rose on my skin with the mere thought of it.
“No!” My head shook in horror.
“Then, come here”
“Blackmailing is a crime” I told him. “How cute” he chuckled, a cynical glint in his eyes. “Who cares when almost everything I do is a crime?”
“Now come” he gestured, his palm commanding me to leave my spot. “Time is precious, Tereso”
My eyes widened a bit when he called me Tereso.
Memories flooded back from the first time he used that term when I was around 18. I stayed up all night back then, researching it’s meaning. I had believed it was an endearing way for him to express that he considered me his treasure. Little did I know, it was a subtle hint that he intended to confine me like a treasure in his grasp, in his cage, moving me on his whim.
“Come to me” he cooed softly.
With reluctance, I pushed myself up from the floor, steadying myself on the table, and took three hesitant steps toward him. Before I knew it, he tugged me onto his lap. His arms encircled my waist, pulling me back against his chest, and he tilted his head to meet my gaze, which I was trying to avoid.
It seems like the way parents keep their kids on their lap, asking about their day.
My eyes were not ready to meet his so they were wandering around. But suddenly his bare chest came into my view and the first thing I saw were small cuts; the blood was still oozing out of a few. They were new and fresh.
So it was his blood on the shirt?
Someone has beat him or has he had a fight?
“No one could beat me” his words rumbled through his chest as if read my thoughts, “I have given them to myself”
My eyes flicked up at him in shock.
Is he crazy?
Who would intentionally harm themselves in such a cruel manner?
“I do” he affirmed, locking his gaze onto mine a with a dept on intensity in his eyes.
Keeping his eyes locked on mine, his arm reached out of for the ice cube. Picking it up, I thought that was going to drop it in his drink but instead, he brought it closer to my lips.
“Open” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.
My lips instinctively parted slightly, and he skillfully guided the ice cube between them. I had anticipated him making me consume it or keep it in my mouth but instead, he positioned it snugly between my lips.
I was sitting on his lap like a statue while he was playing with me as if I were his toy, with whom he could do as he pleased.
His Plaything, just as he mentioned earlier.
He then leaned forward, and his lips wrapped around the remaining part of the ice. His lips touched mine as he sucked the ice from the other side. The ice melted between us, mingling our warmth with the coolness of the ice.
I wasn’t getting why he was doing that or what exactly his intention was until he grabbed the ice in between his teeth and pulled out of my mouth.
My eyes were observing his movements when he unexpectedly sucked his head into the crook of my neck and rubbed the ice on my scars that he gave me the night before.
He delicately traced the ice along my skin, starting below my earlobe and gently sliding it down the curve of my neck, rubbing it over the wounds as if they were going to fade with it.
I shivered at the coldness of the ice and the warmth of his lips brushed against my skin but I couldn’t deny the fact that it soothed the burning sensation.
Each pass of the ice seemed to erase a layer of pain, replacing it with a numbing cold that eased the throbbing ache.
My eyes closed, and a moan escaped my lips. My nails dug deep into his shoulder, but it didn’t seem to bother them. He continued with his sermons.
Looking at the way he was gently rubbing the ice on my wounds, I couldn’t believe that he was the same man who gave them to me.
He pulled back when the ice completely melted.
“Grab an ice cube” I was still lost in the sensation of the ice when he ordered me, his eyes boring deep into mine.
. His eyes held so much intensity that there was no room for defiance. They dared me to challenge him and face the consequences.
My trembling fingers reached out for the ice cube. Glancing at him, I waited for his clear directive.
“Rub it over my wounds” he commanded.
His hands dropped to his side but his eyes pinned me to my place.
I wanted to end all of this as soon as possible so I moved the ice along his wounds while his eyes stayed fixed on me.
Suddenly, his palm rested on my cheek, his thumb stroking the corner of my lips. His eyelids were heavy, and his eyes were deep red as he struggled to keep them open.
He leaned forward, catching me off guard. Instinctively, I moved back, but his determination narrowed the distance between us.
He kept on leaning on me, and I moved back, which eventually made me recline on the couch. He hovered above me, his eyes boring deep into mine, saying many unspoken things.
At that moment, it seemed like we were talking through our eyes.
‘Why did you do that, Ansell? Why have you ruined everything? It could have been so beautiful between us’ I asked without opening my lips.
‘Fate always has plans different than what we desire ‘ I Heard him saying.
His fingers, once cold from the ice, now traced a delicate path along my collarbone, his eyes not leaving my face even for a second, sending shivers down my spine.
My heart was thumping in my chest due to the proximity, and I could hear the thud of his heart as well. His breath was warm against my skin, each exhale drew me closer to him, even as my mind screamed for distance.
His lips hovered above mine, just a hair’s distance away. His gaze bore into mine, searching for something, which I am sure was anything but consent.
And then slowly, he reduced the gap between our lips and pressed them against mine.
It wasn’t as hungry or passionate as before, but this kiss has a longing that is almost feather-like. The kiss like a cumulation of every unspoken word and stolen glance of all these years.
The moment I, along with him, froze in place as he kept his lips tightly pressed against mine, I couldn’t hear, see, or feel anything except him.
After a minute, which felt like an eternity, he pulled back and placed his forehead on mine. His palms cupped my face from both sides.
“You have earned the privilege of talking to your parents” he murmured against my lips.