Chapter 17 #2
Having sex with Felix felt different than it did with Theo.
With Theo I was always in my own head, doubting myself, hoping it felt good for him and not giving my own pleasure a second thought.
It made me hate seeing it on television, or reading about it in books, because the sex I was having was so far removed from the way it was on screen.
Slow and romantic, like they were telepathic and knew exactly what to do to make each other feel good.
But with Felix? That’s exactly how it felt.
Like every single movement of his hips had been prompted by a thought that I’d sent him through the ether.
I buried my face in his shoulder and breathed him in, raising my hips and gripping on to the soft waves of hair at the back of his neck as I relaxed into rhythmic waves of pleasure before feeling him do the same.
‘Margot,’ he whispered, hot in my ear. ‘You are perfect.’
I gave a shallow, breathy laugh. ‘I definitely am not, but that … That was perfect.’ I bit my lip and he kissed me, releasing my lip from my teeth and finding my tongue again.
And we lay there for a while, tracing each other’s skin with our fingertips.
He discovered a vein on my inner elbow and followed it down my arm with the lightest touch, before lifting my wrist to his mouth and kissing the delicate blue line.
‘Les veines. Back to the heart. They can take this too.’ He kissed my arm again, and I closed my eyes, savouring the feeling of his soft lips on my skin.
We didn’t get dressed properly. Felix put on his boxers, and I pulled on the khaki T-shirt that he’d left on the floor.
‘That looks good on you,’ he said before guiding me back down on to the bed, his arm circling me protectively.
‘Oh yeah?’ I replied.
‘Yes.’ He planted tiny kisses on my exposed neck. ‘But everything looks good on you. And nothing looks even better.’
I laughed gently and gazed around his bedroom as I imagined him growing up here. So idyllic. Surrounded by vineyards, by sunflowers, so close to the ocean. It must have been the perfect childhood.
I felt his heartbeat against my back, steady and strong as he traced invisible patterns on my hip. For the first time since I’d got to France, I felt still. Like my mind was only thinking about one thing, and I was there. In the moment, and it was perfect.
‘You are hungry?’ Felix sat up, slowly, like he didn’t want to disturb me.
‘Thirsty,’ I said.
‘OK, give me one minute.’ Felix got out of bed and left the room. I stood up and walked to the window, opening the shutter that he’d pulled closed. The evening sun was warm on my skin.
I looked down to the desk and picked up a book that was sitting on top of a pile.
Le Grand Meaulnes by Alain-Fournier. I tried to read the back, but I could only translate a few words, so I flicked through the pages, fanning them on my flushed face and inhaling the book smell.
Then something dropped on to the table. A bookmark.
No, a photograph. I picked it up and put the book down.
It was Felix – he must have been about thirteen.
His hair was lighter and wavier. His smile was wide and open, and beside him was another boy.
Smaller, younger, dark-haired, with the same smile, except bigger.
A cousin maybe? He was wearing a shark’s tooth necklace.
The same kind I’d begged for when I was nine, when I saw them at a market stall in one of the French towns.
But we had to rush to get our flight home, and I never got one.
‘Et voilà!’ I heard from behind me. I spun round, photograph in hand, to see a smiling Felix holding a tray carrying a jug of water, glasses and some pastries in the doorway.
Then his smile disappeared as his gaze fell on the photograph in my hands.
And there it was again. The same look on his face that was there in town when we heard the music.
‘Sorry, I was just looking at your book and this fell out …’ I let my words tail off as Felix walked towards me, put the tray down on the table and gently took the photograph from my hand.
‘It is fine.’ He put the photograph in a drawer and closed it.
‘He looks like you. Is that your cousin?’ I asked, remembering that he said he had no siblings.
‘My brother. Gabriel.’ Felix’s voice was quiet. Weak.
‘Brother?’ I asked.
‘He was my brother.’ And the past tense wasn’t lost on me. My stomach dropped and I froze. ‘He drowned three years ago.’
‘Oh, Felix.’ I covered my mouth, then reached out and touched his shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to –’
Felix turned away from me and walked to his bed where he started pulling on more clothes.
‘It is OK … Maybe I should take you home, it is getting late.’
I just stared at him for a second, not knowing what to do. Then, in the room that had made me feel so close to him, I suddenly felt like an intruder. I took off his T-shirt then pulled my own clothes on as quickly as I could.
We didn’t speak until we got back to the campsite. The sun had set, but there were still people walking about in bikinis and swimming shorts.
I watched Felix take off his helmet, hang it on the bike and hesitate before turning to me, his jaw tight.
‘I am sorry, Margot. I am not good at talking about Gabriel.’
‘You don’t have to explain,’ I said, even though I wished he would.
‘I do … I will. Just not tonight,’ he said before leaning across and kissing my cheek in a way that felt like a promise and a goodbye at the same time.
And as I walked back to our mobile home, silent tears rushed down my cheeks.
For Felix, for his brother, for his mother, and also for me.
It felt selfish to even think it in the same breath, but I had opened myself up to him in a way I hadn’t to anyone else, while he kept part of himself hidden.
Like he showed me this version of himself and censored the things he didn’t want me to see.
The words from the girl at the market pierced new holes in my head – the ‘girls’.
And Delphine’s words came back again, all of them like flashing red sirens that I’d chosen to ignore.
I walked into the mobile home quietly in case everyone was in bed. My phone buzzed with a message.
FELIX: I want to tell you about Gabriel.
Please give me time.
ME: OK
And it felt genuine. Just as it had while I was lying there in his arms.
Another siren. Loud and flashing so bright, I didn’t even want to look at it.
I’d always thought Ari and Theo were genuine too.
So I guess I couldn’t even trust my own thoughts.