Waiting:

Philipides Mansion, January 2022

Patrick:

She slowly wakes up, opening her eyes , she looks at me and smiles as if despite all the time we've been together she still can't believe I'm here.
This morning my fiancée woke up in kitty mode. I really like this sweet and playful side of her, yes, but it really turns me on when she becomes that insatiable tigress. The wicked things we've done. My mouth gets dry.
Last night we fucked until dawn. She says that my sexual energy is inhuman, but hers is not far behind.
—Good morning, my Lord.-she whispers happily.

—Good morning, sweetheart.-I murmur, kissing her foxy mouth. -When are you going to start calling me Patrick?
She wraps her arms around me, pulling me against her chest. I lick the mole on her lip and she giggles.

—I'll call you Patrick when I become your wife, my Lord.- she murmurs coquettishly.

I growl in frustration.

—What if we get married today?- I suggest.
She raises her eyebrows looking at me puzzled.

—We already talked about it, my lord. I have until November, I...- she tenses.

— Okay, okay. We will wait. Now kiss me, hmmm?

Paris France. March 2022

Kira: .

—What do you think of these?-I asked showing the heels I was wearing.

—Too simple. I don't like black.- he growled.

I rolled my eyes and bit my nails. We had been in a shopping spree for days, we had spent a million euros on dresses, coats, handbags, perfumes and now it was the turn of my favourites. The shoes! However, Patrick was surly, disinterested, distant, something was bothering him and I wanted to know what it was.

— Alright, what the hell is wrong with you? - I blurted out, looking at him with scrunching my face.
—What do you mean?- he asked.

I compressed my lips in a disgusted scowl, and brought my hands to my hips in an openly belligerent stance.

—You've been unbearable for days and I want you to tell me what bug bit you.- I demand.
—I’m regretted the decision I made.-He shot and I swear the fucking world stopped spinning.

Patrick:

I saw her release a strangled sob, her face paled quickly, and she fell to the nearest sofa, pursing her lips and averting her gaze from mine. I understood my mistake instantly. I materialized next to her, kneling before her.
— Forgive me, kitten, I expressed myself very badly. I meant to say that I regret I put such a dilayed date on our wedding. It's only been a few months and I'm already desperate. I can't stand it.- I huffed.- This wait is driving me crazy.

She takes a deep breath, visibly relieved, and then looks at me angrily. She slaps playfully on my shoulder.
—You almost killed me with fiar!- she protests.

I smile embarrassed, getting to my feet, I took her hand and yanked her, lifting her off the couch.

— Forgive me, I'm a fool. Sometimes I don't think the stupid things I say.

I pull her to me and devour her mouth. Squeezing her against me. I took hold of the back of her neck with one hand and with the other I squeezed her buttock possessively.

— Hmm.- she broke the kiss, a mischievous shine took over her eyes. She brought her perverted mouth close to my ear and whispered.-Have you ever had sex in a boutique fitting room, my Lord?

Holy Buddha! She's asking me to fuck her, right here, right now. I give her my most twisted smile. I can smell her, my kitty is wet and ready for my pleasure.

— No Miss Samaras, I've never fucked inside a changing room, but if it's with you I'm willing to lose my virginity in that aspect.

She chuckles, turned to the changing room and pulled me, I followed her, blind with desire.

***

Philipides Mansion, Athens. July 2022.
Kira:

As the months go by, Patrick becomes more desperate. It's incomprehensible. It is as if he feared the third world war, the battle of Armageddon and the Apocalypse all together.

He has hired a medical team to attend me. I shake my head. My sneezes terrify him, my indigestion makes him cry, if I ever had a fever I think my fiancé would drop dead instantly.

—You have to stop.- I scolded him.

— Marry me tomorrow and I'll fire the doctors.

—No.- I whispered exasperated.

He raised an imperious eyebrow and rolled his eyes.

— So, the doctors stay.

— Love, nothing bad is going to happen to me. - I tried to be reasonable.

— As long as you're human you're weak, kitty. You could... suffer an accident or get sick, in short all precaution is too little.

He looked at me with his black eyes full of anguish.

—I don't want to lose you.-he whispered.
I didn’t complain again about the fortnightly medical check-ups, the blood tests, the team of bodyguards armed to the teeth, or any of his other outlandish measures. I understood that he was behaving like an overprotective maniac, for the simple fact that he loves me.

*****

Abu Guyarab Prison, Iraq:

The prisoner looked at the wall of his cell. According to his calculations, it had been a full year since he had been deprived of his liberty.

The lines drawn on the wall resembled wounds, he caressed the line he had just drawn, every day he stayed away from the woman he loved increased the danger that she would forget him.

He was scared.
A terrible fear had taken possession of his soul, he lived in constant agony at the thought that he would die here, locked up, incommunicado, being treated like an animal. The tortures did not hurt him, the blows did not cause him pain. His suffering was internal. His agony would only find relief when he saw himself in the arms of his much yearned brunette.

He had been a fool. He had been a fool to let her slip through his fingers so easily. Now he knew exactly what his arrogance and blindness had cost him. He had given her up for the stupidest reasons in the world. He had believed that he did not deserve her, had convinced himself that it was best to let her go, that he had hurt her too much, that he had broken her heart and that the girl would not really forgive him. Not to the point of giving him a second chance.

— Se agapó, mikrí mou mágissa.

Were the last words he said to his beloved, before disappearing from Villa Philipides. When he suddenly found himself inside that cave he thought thousands of things, hours later the soldiers found him wandering aimlessly through the mountain and took him prisoner.

A year had passed, three hundred and sixty-five days of pure and constant agony. What if she doesn't love me anymore? What if she has already forgotten me? What if she has found in another man what I refused to give her? The prisoner martyres himself with his thoughts.
In his dark and damp cell he has understood that his true enemy is not the soldiers who hold him against his will, but the inexorable passage of time.