Chapter 31 No Straight Lines #2
I whirl around, wanting—no, needing to see someone is actually talking out loud. That I’m just not going crazy. I start to shiver, and it’s not from the cold.
It’s so dark…
There’s a whistle before a man walks into view. He’s so tall, I almost thought he was part of the tree. His hands are stuffed inside his leather jacket. Pulling one out, I almost expect to see a gun.
“Oh my god!” I gasp.
Mako waves, a huge grin on his face. He signals if I’m okay, and I nod furiously. I can’t believe I almost had a panic attack. I feel a little embarrassed that my fear got the best of me.
“You scared me.” I’m so relieved I could cry. So much for healing. I’m still truly just a girl afraid of the dark. “What are you doing here?”
He makes a walking motion with his fingers before pointing at me.
“You’re following me?” I should be scared, but I’m not. In fact, I’m actually thankful he followed me.
His eyes narrow every time he smiles wide. It’s endearing like he’s trying so hard not to clack his teeth together. Much like a shark. He strolls toward me, hooking his arm around mine. Immediately, a dormant fire in me sparks to life.
Gesturing toward my hut, he nudges me forward. I don’t even ask why he knows where I live. Before we can move, though, thunder rolls in. Water pelts against my skin faster only to become a full-on downpour.
I squeal as Mako and I run toward my hut. I like his silence. It’s comforting despite the fact he is basically a stranger to me. There’s no use in shaking the water off us. We’re soaked, so I turn to switch the lights on…
“Blackout.” Fuck. “You know, this is very suspicious with all the advances of technology. You’d think they’d have enough back-up—” I shut my mouth because I see Mako’s silhouette.
He’s taken his jacket and shirt off, leaving him dripping with his pants and squeaky shoes. Despite the darkness, I know his eyes are on me. Expectant.
“Would you like to go to the bathroom?” I ask him, my throat dry.
He runs his fingers over his hair, his body like a Greek statue. Carved. Hard. Rippling. Powerful. I really, really want to jump his bones.
Be for fucking real, Xiaoyu. I’m busy scolding myself as I watch my phone battery die. The last option is to light the gaslamp and candle I have. I’ve never had to use them before, just kept them for the aesthetics, but best to put them to use now.
I pat around for the torch lighter and feel someone against my back.
“Mako?” My heart’s in my throat, pounding. It’s becoming hard to breathe.
We’re both wet and cold, maybe that’s why we’re trembling. Slowly, he undoes my coat, zipping it down lazily. I hate how he’s so unhurried, but my skin thrums a frantic rhythm. It wants him to touch me more.
Sweeping my hair to the side, his breath on my neck. Have you ever felt someone literally breathe down your neck? It shouldn’t feel so exciting. Exhilarating. Forbidden.
He tosses my coat to the side and slides his hands down my shirt, under my bra, pulling me until I am completely pressed up against him. He’s almost gasping for air right now.
“I have missed you, my sweet dreamer.” All that time, his lips are kissing my shoulder. I don’t feel him speak. He’s in my head.
My chest feels like it’s caving in. “Who are you, really?”
“I am nothing, but I want to be yours. Belonging to you is all that matters to me.”
My skin glitters in the dark, recognizing him. “Am I yours? Is this why my body knows you?”
“You’ve been mine from the start, sweet girl.”
I light the gaslamp, and I see shadows. More than one. Or…maybe they are one, my mind just can’t make sense of it. I feel like I’m going insane all over again.
“You are not crazy.” His lips slide over my neck, and I can feel his hot mouth, his teeth. Eager. Hungry. “I am real, and I want to be yours.”
“Your name. What’s your name?”
“Datu. Your friend in the dark.”
I have never been so relieved and upset at the same time.
Somehow, deep down, I’ve always thought there was something wrong with me for going through what I did.
But tragedy doesn’t choose, trauma doesn’t ask questions.
Being a victim to child sexual abuse is never your fault it happened.
Growing up, feeling different, you either fold to the pressure or come out stronger.
Rot in anger and humiliation or build a garden from it.
On this precipice of building my garden, I’ve always felt something was amiss. It’s him. He’s the missing piece. The memories returning to me are an unforgiving stampede. Hooves are trampling over me, but god, am I grateful to finally be awake.
His fingers look different when he sweeps a tear off my cheek.
“Happy or sad tears?”
His hold on me loosens, drifting in front of me. He isn’t completely solid anymore, but he’s as real as I am. His eyes are a sad blue right now.
“I don’t know. Given that I was under the influence most of the time back there, I’m not sure if my feelings are true.”
“Let me prove to you they are real.”
“How?” It comes out crass, mocking that I immediately regret it. I want to take it back, but he seems challenged. Ardent, almost.
“What is the human way to be yours?” His form slowly descends to the floor until he’s eye-level where I’m pounding.
It looks like he may be on his knees right now, peering up at me with a burning hunger.
“I can smell your desire from here.” His voice is so low, velvety. Like honey dripping. I can feel everything vibrate with him. “This moment is so surreal to me. It’s not just you. I feel it, too. The feeling that you were made for me, and I for you. If you’ll have me.”
I hear he is asking, but I know the demand. He’s always told me he will listen to my body more than my words. My mouth lies, my body doesn’t. But he knows my words matter.
“Say it. But I will let you know I am not above begging.”
Shakily, my hands touch his face, cupping them up until we’re eye to eye.
“Prove it to me. Show me I’m yours, then I’ll tell you you’re mine.”
His eyes sparkle from here. “Which form would you have me?”
Fingers sweep down where his cheek should be. “Aren’t you trying to prove you’re made for me? Your real form, Datu.”
He rises from his spot on the floor, his face drifting closer to mine. “It will be dark.” When he talks, his voice gets increasingly deeper. “Do not close your eyes. Know it is me.”
This is it, our pivotal moment. I’m not afraid.
When I let the fear finally consume me, do not pity me. Know I am at my strongest.