Chapter 10 - BlueEthan
Chapter 10
Blue
When I wake to painfully bright sunlight streaming in through the open curtains - curtains that I swear I stumbled out of bed to shut the moment the sun started to rise and disturb me - I'm alone.
I tell myself that it's because Ethan gets up at less-than-appropriate-for-humans hours, where I land firmly on the correct side of a vampire’s schedule, rather than because I scared him away by crossing a line last night. I only half believe myself, and it takes a solid five minutes of anxious spiraling before I manage to crawl out of bed with a grunt to face whatever horribly kind, let-me-down-easy conversation is in store for me.
I don’t bother to pull on a shirt before stumbling over to the balcony doors that, for some reason, are wide open. The humid breeze is more than welcome, but in my caffeine-deprived state, I struggle to figure out why I thought I’d gotten up to close the drapes when early morning sunlight had begun to pierce its way through my eyelids, when what I really did was open the doors.
“Hey.”
I nearly jump out of my skin as Ethan’s voice greets me from the balcony, and he laughs at my pain as I squint and manage a few steps into the too-bright morning light to plop heavily down in the deck chair across from him. Without a word, he lifts a silver carafe, adds a bit of dark-brown water to his half-full cup, and fills the antique-looking floral coffee cup that sits on a matching saucer on the table in front of me.
“Thank you,” I mumble gratefully before taking my first hesitant sip. You never know whether you’re going to get actual coffee or something more akin to the plastic coffee water that comes out of my home machine when you’re at a hotel.
“Anytime. I know you’re about as functional as I am before you’ve had coffee.”
“Oh, I’m less functional, for sure. I’ve never seen you before coffee, but I’m fairly certain I hold some type of record for the lowest level of functionality possible while still managing to operate a body semi-successfully.”
His chuckle vibrates across my skin, deep and resonating as it mixes with the overly cheerful sound of morning birdsong .
“This is surprisingly good coffee,” I mumble, pleasantly surprised as I drain half in a gulp before setting down the mug.
Ethan refills it instantly. “I know. I was surprised as well.”
I nod my thanks as I pick the cup back up and slump back into the chair with my eyes closed to let the sunlight sink into my bones. When I open them again, Ethan is staring at his cup, his forehead creased in thought, and I watch him carefully for a long moment as I sip my coffee once more. He’s always been on the quiet side, and it’s always seemed like it might stem from something just a bit more intense than simply being shy. It’s likely my own insecurities are forcing me to see things that aren’t really there, but he seems even more withdrawn than normal this morning, and I’m terrified that I’ve screwed things up between us.
“You okay?” I try to keep my voice as casual and light as I can.
“Of course.”
The way he smiles over at me doesn’t feel quite normal either, and I stare for another moment before shifting my gaze to examine the contents of my cup.
“I’m sorry if I crossed any boundaries. I should have asked last night before I… ”
“No.” He cuts me off quickly. “Please don’t be sorry. I…”
His sigh is one of the most heartbreaking noises I’ve ever heard, and there is so much insecurity written on his face as his eyebrows furrow and his forehead scrunches into small wrinkles that don’t belong there.
“Can I? I mean, I’d like to…” He cuts himself off again, clearly searching for the strength to say something uncomfortable. Maybe if I make a joke or simply stand up and run for the shower, I can stop him before he tells me there is no chance he wants anything more than friendship and that I’ve fucked even that up now.
“Can I tell you something? I don’t really want to ruin our trip or make you uncomfortable with me or anything, but I just…I’ve never told anyone this, and I feel comfortable with you, and…” He trails off, and his hand trembles as he sets his small, floral cup back onto its saucer with a shaky clink. All I want to do is reach out and calm his distress by wrapping my fingers around his, but I don’t think that would be welcome.
“You can tell me anything.” How am I supposed to tell him no even though I’m terrified the next words he says might break my heart?
The green of his eyes appears paler than normal in the intense morning sunlight, closer to moss than pine, as they search my face for a long moment before he seems to steel himself to press forward, determined to say whatever it is that’s on his mind.
“I travel a lot. For work. Which you know. Of course, you know that; we’ve talked about it before.”
His fingernails are nervously picking at the soft wooden arm of his chair.
“It’s not just for work, though, I guess. Not if I’m honest. I just…it feels like something is wrong with me.”
I raise my eyebrow, and he glances down to watch his fingers as if he can’t bear to hold my gaze any longer.
“I don’t really have friends, and I know I’m not alone in that in some ways. I know that some people, like me, just aren’t very social, and I’m okay with that most of the time. Sometimes, I’m lonely, I guess, but when it gets too bad, I just focus a bit harder on work and it passes. Since I’ve met you and Gabriel, though, I’ve come to realize that maybe I’ve been lonelier than I thought. I honestly haven’t actively noticed that anything has been missing from my life for the most part. I thought I was just fine without friendships. But the thing is…” He clears his throat, but his voice remains quiet and shaky. “I don’t have relationships either. Romantic ones, I mean, and I’ve always wanted one of those.”
He glances up quickly, and I nod, making sure to keep a gentle smile on my face even though I have absolutely no idea where this is going, and my heart is simultaneously racing at the idea that he might be offering me hope while breaking for him more than just a little.
“I’ve tried. I’ve tried so fucking hard.”
The way his voice trembles tears at my soul, and I want to pull him into my arms until his face is buried in my neck and he knows that he’s safe and that he wouldn’t have to try with me. That even though I don’t know him all that well, I love everything I do know about him, and if he’d let me, I’d happily spend years learning everything else.
“I go on dates and…” He pauses and blushes deeply, and the freckles that pepper his nose seem to darken slightly. “I’ve gone home with a couple of people over the years, and it just never fits. It’s never…good.”
“I’ve had my fair share of really bad relationships, Ethan. I completely understand what it’s like to be hurt or…”
He shakes his head. “It’s not like that. Not really. I mean, I’ve never been actually hurt by someone intentionally or anything.”
I relax just a little at that. I don’t even want to imagine this sweet man in some of the situations I’ve found myself in during my own pathetic attempts at relationships .
“It’s like…there is no spark. Ever. There isn’t any world shifting on its axis, no fireworks-in-the-night-sky spark. There isn’t a sense of comfort or peace or familiarity. There is just…nothing. When I touch someone, there is just nothing.”
He shrugs, and his shoulders droop even further as he pulls a knee up to his chest and curls in on himself. This man is kind and gorgeous with his soft-spoken tone and quirky sense of humor and body that looks like a Roman Olympian of old. He’s as perfect as any man I’ve ever met, and it’s breaking me to watch the way he’s struggling with his self-worth.
“I just think I’m…broken.”
If he’s never felt a spark with anyone, if he’s never known a romantic touch that he enjoyed, maybe offering physical comfort isn’t the right move, but I slide my hand across the table to rest it, palm up, next to his cup in offering.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, Ethan. Everyone feels things differently. Maybe romance and sex just aren’t important things for you.”
He hugs his knee tighter and almost growls in frustration. “That’s the thing. I want them to be. I want them more than anything.”
“Have you ever felt anything for anyone? ”
The red hue still gracing his cheeks deepens further.
“Yes. I fell in love once when I was a teenager. We grew up together, Jordyn and I, and then one day, he just felt…different…and I couldn’t get enough of him in ways I’d never realized were possible. We were young, only seventeen, and neither of us wanted to rush anything. We were also the only queer people we knew about in our town, so we kept things secret, but when we touched…when we kissed…when we were together, it felt like movie love. But…it didn’t work out.”
His tone shifts when he says it didn’t work out, and there is so much loss and pain in his voice that I want to pull him onto my lap and hold him as if that would somehow manage to lessen his hurt.
“There hasn’t been anyone since.”
He hasn’t taken my hand, and I pull it back into my lap so that I don’t make him uncomfortable, even though it hurts that he isn’t interested.
As I process everything he’s told me to try to figure out what it might mean for our friendship or the romantic relationship that I find myself so desperately hoping might develop, something dawns on me.
“Ethan…can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” He shrugs, sounding as dejected as a person can possibly sound.
“Where are you finding the people you’ve tried dating…or sleeping with?”
“Ummm…online mostly. Apps. Bars once in a while.”
“So…you want romance and sex, and you keep looking for them even though things never work out, but the only person you’ve ever really felt anything for, you were friends with first?”
His exhale is a shuddering sigh, and it sounds like he’s doing his best not to cry. “Yes.”
“Ethan…” I continue with a smile, hoping that what I’m going to say might help him to feel a bit better about himself. “Have you ever considered that you might be demisexual? Maybe even demiromantic too.”
His eyes finally lift from the small hole his fingers have picked into the arm of the chair, and his eyes find mine in confusion.
“I don’t…I don’t know what that is.”
“It means that you want…and can have…romantic or sexual feelings for someone; you may even crave those things, but you only feel them once you’ve developed an emotional relationship with someone. A demisexual person wouldn’t be turned on by a hot guy they meet at the bar, but they might easily develop sexual or romantic feelings for that same hot guy if they met somewhere else and developed a friendship first. ”
He blinks a few times, his eyes losing focus and staring past my shoulder into the treetops at the edge of the balcony.
“So I…falling in love with Jordyn…never finding…”
When his eyes snap back to mine, they’re wide with wonder, and the corners of his lips twitch up as a small smile starts to form.
“That’s a real thing…demisexual?”
I grin at him, possibly a bit wider than I should, as my heart soars over the way he’s suddenly shifting. His back straightens as his body uncurls from itself, and I can almost see the moment he begins to realize that even though he may not work the way most people do, he’s anything but broken.
“It’s definitely a real thing.”