Chapter 14 Mischa
Austen is like a drug. I’m not satisfied by the night in the tent, it only makes me want him even more.
It’s like a taste without swallowing. Touching him was tectonic.
It is almost certainly one of the pivotal moments of my life.
I’m terrified just how significant the weight of it will be.
I worry I might be stuck on an event horizon, circling this black hole of insatiable desire forever.
Austen had to twist his logic into a pretzel before he let himself sleep with me. I don’t know if he’ll bend that far again. He gives me no points for not crossing the line, either.
The fact he had a... something-something seizure also constantly plays on my mind.
I loved what we did but I can’t help but feel guilty for wanting.
If I hadn’t pushed, hadn’t wanted it so much, he never would have reacted that way.
He was sad that it went down like that, and the last thing I want is to hurt him.
I’d rather never fucking come again if I could keep him happy.
It’s more than sexual tension at this point.
I love to be near him. I love mementos of him, like the pendant he gave me, photos with him in the background, the little bag of his dirty clothes.
At a museum visit he sneaks an enamel pin of a cartoon puppy into my pocket.
It’s become my prize possession. He’s my whole world.
He shares candy with me, without saying a word. Brushes past me, with a quick pat on the back along the way. I feel more emotions in these secret moments than I have ever had for any other lover.
His gay as fuck bodyguard Kane is loving every minute of it, and running interference for us with William, so he doesn’t see anything.
We don’t talk. We can’t, because when we do, it’s obvious we’re into each other.
When we do, we get lost in each other’s eyes.
When we do, I whisper the sweetest nothings into his ear, and I tell him about the dreams I have about him that I’m only just recovering from, and my lips touch his lobe, hidden by my hands.
It makes him blush. When we do, we stand too close to each other, I gaze at his mouth and eyes, entranced.
The sound of his voice makes my breathing slowly get heavier, and I find myself in some euphoric, hypnotic state.
His breathing slows like mine. He bites his bottom lip involuntarily at me in the elevator on the first day in Sydney, and I lose my mind.
My smoldering feelings possess my ribs, and I have to grip his arms, to hold myself back from him.
“Jesus Christ,” I tell him. “Baby... You just... I need...”
“You okay?” he asks.
“You’re turning me on too much. I’m very hard... I gotta go to my room for a while.”
Thank god I’ve taken to wearing baggy flannel shirts. I run upstairs and find Max in my room eating an apple.
“Get out!” I yell at him, and push him into the hallway, and pull the bar across the door.
“Hey!” he yells from outside.
It’s only a few seconds, and it’s intense. I feel light headed after, but clean up, and get out of there. I let Max back in like nothing happened. He’s very confused. Austen watches me return downstairs with a cheeky grin on his face.
One particular day in Sydney, in a hidden spot, alone at a bar near the hotel, we just stare at each other for far too long, and Athena comes across us.
“Just do it already,” she says, and rolls her eyes as she passes us.
She’s friendly with Will, so the comment throws Austen hard. We keep away from each other for a few days, but we’re always in each other’s orbit. Psychologically, we’re in lock-step.
It feels so good just to look at Austen. I have taken to sitting in the back of the bus or plane or train everywhere we go. That way I can watch him and it isn’t so obvious. Sometimes I sit near Kane, who keeps a distance but also never takes his eyes off his two principals.
William plays piano with me. He’s good and we’re both show ponies for an audience, so it’s free entertainment for everyone.
We start duetting on every piano we can find.
Sometimes we race each other for the right side of the piano seat.
Sometimes we wrestle each other off the seat.
Austen is always there. When I catch his eye he freezes and looks back at me, it’s like a deer in the headlights.
It feels amazing. I’m certain this is driving us both insane.
???
With the tour ending and only a few days left in Sydney, two girls show up at the hotel, talking quietly in French.
They are... you could say, sublime in their beauty.
Angelic. Goddesses. Burn-your-fingers smoking hot too, actually.
If you told me they are supermodels, I’d believe you.
Both around nineteen or twenty, I guess.
One is a blonde with eyes shockingly green, and the other a natural wavy redhead, a shade so deep and dark that I never knew red could come in that color.
They are the kind of attractive that gives them a glowing aura. They make everyone’s head turn.
They scan the lobby, as if they are looking for someone, and cast their eyes over me.
The odd thing is, they don’t notice me, and that’s almost impossible…
I burn fingers too. Not even a second glance or a lingering look.
They aren’t doing it on purpose either. They’re not doing that stone cold, I’m-to-good-for-you thing.
They just genuinely don’t have eyes for me.
A man comes over to chat them up.
“Not interested,” the redhead says before he can say anything.
“What about her?” he nods to the blonde.
“Don’t fucking talk to her, don’t even look at her.”
I like this girl.
I think they must be a gay couple.
Will’s bodyguard comes over and ushers the man away.
“Out of your league, buddy.”
They spot William and Austen making their way out of the breakfast room and both the girls positively beam.
It only makes them even more radiant. Austen sees them, and then, like a magnet, his gaze swings to me and with one look, I get a sinking feeling.
William runs forward and noisily throws his arms around the girls, hollering and pulling them into a group hug.
“Baby come here,” he yells, and grabs Austen and then they are all enmeshed in a tangle of limbs and pure joy.
It is not lost on me that these people can touch Austen, so I know they must be important. They break apart and William is smacking an enthusiastic kiss on the redhead.
She turns to Austen. “Hello, baby-bee,” she says.
“Hello, angel.”
“Frero!” the blonde says to William, and throws her arms around him and he lifts her off the ground.
It’s French for ‘brother’, and I realize the blonde girl is probably their sister, because she looks a lot like them.
Then they swap. More kisses.
“The navigators reunite,” William says, and puts his hand around the redhead.
Then he begins to make introductions.
“This is my girlfriend Isobelle,” William says, as he introduces the redhead to some of our tour group.
Not lesbians then.
“Girlfriend. Girlfriend? What a fucking asshole.”
Brittany is furious, crossing her arms over her chest and glowering at William. She’s a cute, curvy cheerleader with a high blonde ponytail that bobs around when she’s mad. She turns to Isobelle.
“You know what’s funny?” Brittany asks her. “He didn’t mention he had a girlfriend when we were in Melbourne together.”
“That is funny,” Isobelle says, and gives William a hard look, then exhales with an air of loving the drama. “Hilarious.”
Most of the other students dart away. The other boys all bolt to laugh about it, and most of the other girls remove themselves from the uncomfortable exchange.
“Yeah well, you can have him,” Brittany says, unsure of herself.
She storms off with her girlfriends, and the lobby empties, and it’s just me and them.
William looks at the ground, terrified. I think he’s a little afraid of his girlfriend. I love this girl.
“And this is Sabrina,” he continues. “Austen’s fiancé.”
Fiancé. My mind starts reeling. Fiancé? What a fucking asshole. I mean, I know he told me he was taken or whatever, but I was sure he was lying and I am never wrong about that shit.
I look at her hand. She’s twisting his signet ring on her finger.
Austen and the blonde, ringleted Aphrodite stand next to each other like strangers.
I can tell he wants to look at me, and when he does, I want to look as angry as possible.
He steals a glance, and from the look on my face he knows he’s fucked up.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, and Sabrina ignores me.
“Hi,” Isobelle smiles.
“We’re heading to New Zealand for a little boat trip on Saturday,” Austen explains sheepishly, and puts his arm around the girl he’s engaged to be married to, like a complete and utter bastard.
“Last chance to relax before we start organizing the wedding of the year,” Isobelle says.
I can actually feel my heart break. It really hurts. all the little broken shards stab at my chest and I try not to breathe too hard to stop the pain. This is what my brothers warned me about.
I take a moment to breathe. They make small talk while William takes their bags up to their rooms. I feel Kane’s hand stealthily pat my back.
Maybe it’s to give me sympathy, a little comfort while my world silently collapses, or maybe he’s just doing his job as a bodyguard, warning me not to make a fuss, because he’ll drop me if I mess with his client.
My hand reaches behind my back and I grab his.
Our fingers find each other and Kane quickly squeezes my hand, then rubs my forearm, and lets go.
I need to talk to this girl, and get evidence that this is not real.
“So Selina,” I say.
“Sabrina,” she corrects me.
“Right. How’d you meet Austen?”