61. Relief of Surrendering

Laura - The house in the suburbs
In the dead of night, when some people may be having a late dinner while most are deep asleep, I creep through the forest and enter the backyard.
I’m sneaking inside the house Paul gave me, his childhood home. Luckily, I still have the key.
It takes a while to get used to being back. The scent of pine trees and the cool breeze coming through the window is a welcome change from the suffocating stench of the city.
I switch on the living room lights and get out my phone to text Paul to come here when he wakes up. I need to clear things up with him once and for all. I could tell from the expression in his eyes that he was not over us the last time I saw him.
I feel a strange mix of emotions surging up within me. I know it's silly to worry about someone you dumped months ago, but I can't help it.
Loving someone entails entrusting them with your whole being. That isn't for me. I will never put someone else through the ordeal of having to share the pain of my curse. It is all mine to bear.
Before I can send the text message, footsteps come from the bedroom. My eyes widen in surprise as Paul walks in. He's wearing a black t-shirt and boxers, and his face and hair are testimony to the fact that he was sleeping.
"I smell blood on you," he mutters, half asleep.
I almost laugh. It sounds like that is the big question, not why I am here.
“I drank some.”
His eyes close for a second. Paul exhales deeply, and his breathing slows. I want to hug him and enjoy the warmth of his body. I mustn't give in.
Straight-faced, he walks to the mini-bar where he keeps his beers. "Why? I thought you didn’t need it."
“Indeed, I don’t need blood, but it soothes me as alcohol does to a normal human.”
Paul sits on the couch and opens a beer can.
“Do you live here now?” I ask, still standing where I was when he came in.
“Yes.”
“You have that huge villa. Why live here?”
“This house has your scent imprinted in every piece of fabric and upholstery.” He takes a few sips from the beer can and continues unfazed as if he’s talking about the weather. “The mattress smells of us having sex.”
I clench my fists. “Forget our relationship ever happened!”
He raises an eyebrow, and a revolting smirk comes forth. “Do you think it’s even possible to forget just because you tell me to?!”
“I want to go together to the gypsy witch. She can tell you everything better than I can. Maybe this way, you’ll understand why we have to end this.”
His eyes narrow. His shoulders tense.
After squeezing the empty beer can, Paul springs up from the couch and grabs another one. He remains completely silent. I keep an eye on him while he slides down back on the sofa. The longer he remains silent, the more worried I am.
I shift my weight uncomfortably from one foot to another.
“Okay,” Paul finally replies. “But it’s late now. We’ll pay her a visit at a reasonable hour.”
I nod. “Perfect. I’ll text you the address.”
I turn around to go, but I don't take more than two steps. A hand grabs my arm and twirls me around. The other hand tugs on my head, forcing me to rest my cheek close to Paul's heart.
"Wait," he whispers. "Give me a minute."
I swallow hard as his thumb caresses my ear.
His husky voice comes again. “Focus on the sound of my heartbeat. Just having you in my arms makes my heart beat even louder. Can you hear it?”
Of course I can. Sometimes I think I’m alive just for the sole reason of listening to the music of his heart.
My fingers dig into his sides. I don't know how I got so weak. Why can't I control these profound emotions?
“I won't walk on eggshells around you.” He kisses the top of my head. His voice is strained and hoarse from too much emotion. “I love you. I want everything with you.”
There’s an itch in my throat. “Why?”
“Love is without reason. It simply is.”
I tilt my head back to meet his gaze. While I stare at him, I realize how desperately I want to bury my face in the hollow of his neck and trace the veins on his arms. I can't resist the pull and settle my nose near his collarbone, rubbing my face on his skin.
Warmth exudes through his pores and even further through the soft fabric. There’s something weirdly erotic about his body, its simple existence.
Paul grabs my head with both hands and forces me to look up. He brings our foreheads together. Without a moment’s notice, he launches forward and kisses me wildly.
I whimper and hold on to his shoulders while he takes control of my mouth. His lips move over mine, his tongue searching for mine.
He tastes like beer. I’m thirsty for more.
“You have to stop,” I whisper against his lips. I barely manage to get the words out.
I melt into his kiss, giving in to his tongue. After so much time apart and after this fight, it's both humiliating and arousing. I want him. Badly.
Still, I find enough strength to take a step back, breathless and wanting for more.
His fingers grab my waist, and he leans even more. “Do I really have to settle for a snack when there’s an entire feast in front of me?”
Shrugging, I pretend to have no idea what he's talking about.
His hands' grip tightens. The way he licks my lips turns me on. His strong fingers dig into my flesh, and I moan.
“Stop doing whatever you want with me!”
“Remember that you can do whatever you want to me too.” He smirks playfully. “I can feel how my desire turns you on. The glow in your eyes makes me hard. Are you going to take care of that for me?”
Whatever I say or do, I know what will happen next, and I'll revel in the relief of surrendering.