Confusion I
Camila's POV
I had never understood the sexist myth of women being such complicated creatures, while men were simple and laid back.
Because men were beyond confusing, and in the years before his death I had learned papá was one of those confusing men.
Many men lacked emotional intelligence and it was partly due to the fact that society has been telling them how to act since the beginning of time - just like they were women.
Thus the rise of toxic masculinity.
With papá it was his absence. He was never really around, always working. Providing.
Sure he was physically there at times but in a sense he was never really present. Except, of course, when I did something wrong.
In that case he was right there to punish me.
Punishment and discipline were papá's specialties. And in the seven years he was in my life he had made sure to keep me well behaved.
It was really all he seemed to do when around but I was still very much a daddy's girl growing up. Alway following papá around, clinging to him, never letting him go anywhere without trying to run after him.
He never grew found of my want for his attention and affection, but that still never stopped me. I still loved my grumpy papá.
Since he wasn't fond of physical touch, when I hugged him or ran into his arms and kissed him he would always make sure to tell me how useless it was.
I often found myself taking his harsh words and forms of punishment the wrong way. But mamá would always reassure me that it meant he loved me more.
He just had a funny way of showing it and I just had to adjust.
So when he would lock me in the dark closet for time out or make me skip dinner for misbehaving, I would accept it because he loved me, and I wanted to be loved by him.
Papà was the first ever confusing man I had met. And little did I know that he would be the first of many others I would encountered in my life.
And the man currently hugging me to his bare chest was another one of them.
I had spent the past few days coming to terms with the fact that I had taken things too far.
If Alejandro really was so adamant on not wanting me in the sexual way, I shouldn't have continued pushing so far.
I was far more manipulative than I'd anticipated and even if my intentions weren't all that ill, I hadn't stopped to respect his wishes.
I had led him to think my flirty personality was normal all the while I was using it to further my own hidden agenda.
And so I was getting over it. Over him.
But then my understanding of the entire situation had crumbled in the span of one night because of a kiss.
Alejandro kissed me.
It wasn't a peck, it was a sweet kiss. One where our lips molded, moved and worked against each other.
One that he initiated.
Now I was stuck, laying here and trying to understand what to do next.
The way I looked at it, I had two options; wait it out or move on.
In hind sight, moving on was the right answer. But how the fuck would I be able to find someone who makes me feel the way Alejandro does?
Alejandro was right when he said no boy could give me half of what he could. And my lack of desire to lose my virginity to anyone but him was proof of that.
Besides, how could I find the will to move on when one single kiss had my mind reeling all night?
I wasn't going to move on, but I wasn't going to necessarily wait either.
If last night had taught me anything it was that Alejandro was more screwed up in the head than I thought he was.
But one thing was clear, Alejandro was a straight man. And straight men tended to think with their dicks. It just so happened that Alejandro's was quite fond of me.
It's clear he wants me, but doesn't want to want me. There's something stopping him from going further, something he's masking with the excuse that I'm not ready.
It's not that I'm desperate to have sex with Alejandro. I'm not. I just dont want to pursue him if it means he'll be going to other women to fulfill those needs when I was perfectly capable of pleasuring him.
This was all so screwed up.
With a groan, I lift myself off of him, struggling against the man who isn't letting up.
I physically have to pry his heavy arms off me one by one, and pull myself up. Only to stop and blink down at his bare chest to subtly wipe the bit of droll I had gotten on there.
I swallow thickly starting down at the firm muscular skin beneath me, only now realizing that Alejandro's clad in a pair of black sweatpants. Nothing else.
Not in his white t-shirt and navy pyjama pants.
I peer up to his face to see his head thrown back and his lips parted. His bare chest beneath me rises and falls and I take a moment to stare at the smooth tan skin of his muscular chest where his gold chain lays messily.
I had given up trying to put space between us last night after he wouldn't let up while going on about teddy bears. And I could do nothing but let him lay my head down on his chest where his heartbeat lulled me to sleep.
And now as I sat here, looking at him I can't help the way my heart clenches at how devastatingly handsome he is.
His messy bed hair, the bags under his eyes, and even asleep he looks exhausted. His jaw is adorned in grown out stubble and in the last few days I knew he had buried himself with more work.
He was working himself to death.
And I realize we needed each other more than I thought. Sure this whole situation started out in a really fucked up way with me being manipulative and taking things too far but here he was before me needing someone.
And maybe I wasn't that someone, but I was here. And maybe he wouldn't love me like I did him but I had enough love for the both of us.
Until he came around.
And I knew just what a man like Alejandro needed to give him that final shove.
I needed to proceed with caution.
If i made a big deal about what he admitted last night, he'd pull away. Deny.
So I would play it cool, calm and collected.
With a smile and a new found sense of determination, I get up to prepare myself for my day.
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