GABRIEL #12
I feel like I’m sliding down a snow-covered slope into the unknown. I don’t know why I keep bringing up these topics, clearly against his wishes, and even against my own judgment. I’m acting completely unhinged.
"But don’t you consider it even a slightly interesting phenomenon? People need closeness, touch… there’s actually a scientific basis for it. Touch can be healing, soothing."
Silence.
I clear my throat.
"I’m only twenty-one, and it’s been hard not having anyone I could love or who could love me," I admit, my voice wavering. I feel stupid confessing this after knowing him for just one day.
There’s a prolonged silence.
Is it just me, or does my shaky tone make Blue respond instead of shutting me down?
"I understand how you may see it. But I don’t feel that need, Gabriel. My life is built around something else. I don’t believe I require love to be content. I’m fond of my family, and that’s all. Romantic love is really an abstract idea to me."
Feeling that slight opening on his side, I decide to keep going…
"And what about sex?" I press, probably beet red, sinking even deeper into the shaky swamp, but since I’m already going under, I might as well sink a few more inches deeper, right?
Well, this time, it’s clearly too much. He frowns and turns toward the door.
"I think you’ve received enough personal information from me for now. Whether I feel like fucking someone or not is not relevant to your job as a bodyguard."
"Sorry for bringing that up," I mutter.
His eyes rest on my face for a moment, then his tone turns flat again.
"That’s enough conversation for today. I’d like to rest. I get up at seven. I usually swim in the morning, using the indoor pool rather than the rooftop one. I’m alone there, but you can join me if you fancy keeping yourself in shape. It’s through the last door in the hallway."
"I like swimming. Maybe I’ll join you," I say, my throat still a little tight. "I’ve been missing that kind of movement lately."
"You’re welcome to," Blue says shortly, positioning himself by the door in a way that makes it clear I should leave.
"Have a good rest," I say politely, giving a small nod.
He doesn’t respond, just watches me in silence. He’s already back behind that rigid barrier that feels impossible to break through.
I head out of the room and go to mine.
A small private bathroom is attached to it, and I step inside.
I strip off my clothes and get under the stream of warm water, and as I stand there, something weird hits me. Something that shouldn’t be possible has just… happened.
I’ve already acknowledged I’m attracted to him. But you can be attracted to somebody and still not be fond of the person, right?
So what about my feelings?
Before, I genuinely disliked Blue. I wouldn’t call it raging hate, but it definitely wasn’t anything good.
Is it gone?
Am I drifting toward neutrality or even… kind of liking him a little? Just a tad?
Unavoidably, my mind drifts back to what Storm hinted at.
In our family, he became kind of famous for supposedly being able to identify people with high-level mateship and match them together. Some of my cousins doubt it and laugh at him, but I clearly remember he even got a substantial bonus for pairing up High Mate matches in the Fate’s Choice database.
Is it possible that Blue and I have at least some decent genetic compatibility?
Could it explain it? Because there’s no way that, before arriving here, I could have imagined even slightly warming up to him. When I came here this morning, it felt like an impossible scenario in my head.
So. If my aversion faded that quickly, after only one day, could there be some kind of Pull at work? One that isn’t just coming from my own tendency to be easily influenced?
As I run my hands over my body, washing off the soap, they drift lower.
I let them settle between my legs.
It’s kind of my routine, evening and morning too, jerking off alone in the shower.
Sometimes during the day. Okay, more than sometimes. Always.
Also in the afternoon… yeah.
My libido is pretty high, which is unfortunate for a single person.
I wrap my hand around my shaft, feeling the hot thickness in my fingers.
Usually, when I do this, I picture Marcel, but…
not today. I close my eyes and replay that one short moment, maybe a second long, when I lifted Blue up and moved him behind that billboard.
For a second, my arms had wrapped around his slim waist. His back pressed against my chest, just briefly, but I remember that strange, pleasant shiver that went through me.
I didn’t have time to focus on it then. I was too busy making sure he was safe.
But now I can go over that moment again in my head, slow it down, and feel that sharp little spark of pleasure.
It’s enough to push the fantasy further.
I imagine pulling him closer, pressing my lips to his neck.
It’s twisted, because this is Blue Lowen. He’s gone from my enemy to the object of my desire in one day. It has to be a Guinness record. So fucking funny. Am I a maxxer when it comes to being a contrarian?
And yet it’s real. I stroke myself, and a moment later, with my eyes closed, I come. All I can see in my mind are his soft pink lips, parted, wet, moaning.
Damn, how embarrassing.
After the shower, I head back to my bed.
When I look at it, at how neatly it’s made, something hits me.
There was no nest on Blue’s bed!
I’ve never seen an omega’s bed without one. Not once. And then I remember, of course, Blue doesn’t have neck glands. He doesn’t have the instinct to build a nest. There’s this dull ache in my chest, regret that something so important for every omega is the one thing he’ll never get to experience.
I lie down and stare at the ceiling, my head full of tangled thoughts.