Chapter 27
Davian
Do You Fear the Rain?
Clumsy Hearts
Ahmet Kenan Bilgic, Turgut Mavuk
Only a madman would tell a nineteen-year-old that twenty-six-year-old women were too young for him, before then almost pushing a blueberry between her lips with the most depraved intentions.
My thoughts automatically wandered back to her delicate, chapped lips, stained with blueberry blue. To that moment when I had wanted nothing more than to touch her there again.
The destructive, uninhibited side that lay dormant deep within me and brought these unhinged books into being had wanted to watch her lick my thumb just as she had done to herself, without breaking eye contact.
Being able to exist on the same wavelength with her was an experience I didn't want to miss, one I cherished, even if it hurt every single day and would push me to my limits until she left town.
But at that moment, I had wanted something else. A need that had burst forth from the darkest corners of my desires.
I had seen Velina in her.
I had wanted to dominate her.
Resigned, I pressed my lips together until my teeth dug painfully into my skin. But nothing came close to the pain left by the erection in my pants. Or to the pain left by the fact that Quillon Veritas had no place in my head.
She's nineteen, Davian. Nineteen.
Yes, Quill was nineteen on paper, but that didn't change the fact that every conversation, every encounter with her, felt like the most natural and intense form of contact I had ever experienced.
With the two champagne glasses in my hands and a growing sense of helplessness, I walked through the large hallway with the staircase, back toward the entrance hall, but slowed down because I had little desire to meet another woman who was on the hunt for a stable family and children from a handsome man with a high income.
For a moment, I wondered if going on dates with one of these women – or with those who slept their way through the neighborhood, unable to commit to a steady partner – might be a possible solution to end my agonizing desire for Quill.
But the mere thought of using one woman just to get another out of my head disgusted me so much that I quickly buried it again.
On top of that, something inside me knew that it wouldn't work. Quill's essence was in my system. And the mere realization that I wouldn't be able to get her out of there until she left Maplecrest at some point was eating away at me.
I paused, looked around, but Monica hadn't followed me, she seemed to still be talking to Quill in the kitchen, and I still found it amusing how she was trying to drag her into social situations that Quill had obviously just successfully escaped.
It wasn't good that I understood her, that we were so similar. And yet this situation had just managed to make me forget for a moment how twisted I was.
Her damn smile...
“Oh God.”
Fading Hours
Ahmet Kenan Bilgic, Turgut Mavuk
I flinched when Anthony appeared out of nowhere and took one of the champagne glasses from my hand.
“This is my lifesaver.”
Overwhelmed, I watched my friend down the champagne in one go before putting the glass down and breathing a deep sigh of relief.
“I needed that.”
With that, he looked around as if a bar complaint were lurking around the next corner.
I raised both eyebrows.
“Are you okay?”
He raised his eyebrows too, as though I were the one glancing around again, seeing ghosts.
“Am I okay?” With a serious look, he pointed to the passageway leading to the entrance hall.
“Davian. Those women in there are like vultures. I feel like a walking roast chicken.” The corners of my mouth turned up on their own as he ran his hand through his already tousled hair.
“And Mother isn't making it any better. She's set three women my sister's age on me.”
Unable to suppress my snort, I exchanged the empty champagne glass in his hand for the full one.
Ever since I had learned how Quill's mother had died, my already low desire for alcohol was gone.
Tony emptied the glass in another gulp, and I was beginning to doubt my decision.
Hadn't he driven here?
One more glass and I would definitely not let him drive. If necessary, I would take him home.
“Mother has gone crazy, Davian. I can't go back in there.”
“Maybe now you understand how I feel when your parents try to engage me to your sister.”
The frustration in my voice was unmistakable, and I was grateful that I didn't have to wear too many masks around Anthony, unlike around Joseph or the rest of this town.
“I'm working on it. I promise. You'll only marry her over my dead body.”
Another snort escaped me.
“Maybe you should contact a notary and draw up your will.”
Would Joseph get Anthony out of the way just so I could fulfill Lorette's wish for grandchildren?
The mere thought of having to raise another child gave me stomach pains. And the thought of marrying a woman I had watched grow up was enough to make my stomach turn.
“This isn't funny. I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
We stared at each other with unusual seriousness for a moment before he gave me two friendly pats on the shoulder.
“You know what? We should get out of here and find a bar before one of those hyenas…”
“Anthony, darling!”
We turned around to find Lorette appear in the hallway, beaming with joy, her energetic voice almost melodic.
Brittany followed behind her, smiling innocently at me.
Could this day get any better?
Joseph's wife stopped in front of me and smiled at me as if I were the weatherman who had promised her skin-cancer-inducing weather just before her vacation.
“Oh, Davian, hello. How are you?”
She patted my arm, not even waiting for an answer before turning to Anthony.
“I've been looking for you. Three guesses who just showed up!”
Joseph's wife smiled at me one last time, let go of her daughter, and pulled her son, who threw me a desperate, helpless look over his shoulder, back to the entrance hall with her, until only Brittany and I were left in the stairwell.
Nothing was more ambitious than a trophy wife from Maplecrest trying to force her offspring to continue the family line.
Unseen
Ahmet Kenan Bilgic, Turgut Mavuk
An uncomfortable silence pulled me back to the present, and I was forced to look at Brittany, who was still smiling at me.
“You're hard to find.” She raised both eyebrows and walked past me.
“You always disappear just like that and don't show up again.” She paused briefly behind me before continuing circling around me, and I fought the urge to press my lips together.
“Could it be that you're running away from me, Davian?”
She stopped in front of me. Much too close.
I didn't even get a chance to respond before her index finger landed on my tie.
“You don't have to answer me.” With a playful sparkle in her gray eyes, she looked up at me. “How about you show me Monica's house instead and...” A hand settled on my crotch and I flinched. “...apologize to me properly.”
What the hell?
“Brittany...”
I wanted to push her away, but she seemed to take this as an invitation to continue, pressing me against the wall with her hand on my tie and wrapping her other hand around my returning hardness.
“Well, now I know what the problem was. You don’t like it when I’m holding back, you like it…” She grabbed my tie and pulled my head toward her. “When I take what I want.”
“Brittany,” I hissed through clenched teeth and pushed her away. “Stop.”
I had never felt so uncomfortable, cursing my body for sending her the wrong signals and glaring at her in horror.
She stared back in confusion as I put even more distance between us and ran my fingers through my hair, overwhelmed by the sensory overload.
Images of Quill fought their way back into my head, along with a feeling of desire, but I fought against them too, wanting peace in my head, in my entire goddamn body, for just a moment.
Suddenly, Brittany's eyes looked glassy, but before I could read too much into it, she spun around, turned completely away from me, and began to breathe heavily.
“Brittany, please understand...”
“What is it?!” She turned back to me, her eyes filled with tears of despair. “Am I not pretty enough? Is something wrong with me? Is there already someone else you’ve promised to marry?!”
She didn’t even give me a chance to explain, raising her hands as I moved toward her to calm her down.
“God, Davian. I'm sorry.” Suddenly, she began to cry. “But how can it be that I'm rewarded for everything I work hard for in this life, but with you... No matter what I do, it's as if you don't want me.”
Tears threatened to smudge her mascara, so she hastily touched her eyes and wiped them away.
She threw her arms in the air.
“And now I've ruined my makeup and completely embarrassed myself in front of you!”
I lowered my hands, overwhelmed by the situation, watching as she began to pace back and forth, sniffling, and waited until I was sure she had nothing more to say.
“Brittany. Don't get me wrong…” Abruptly, she stopped and turned to me with an expectant look. “You're an intelligent young woman. We both know you have other goals than getting married.”
She hurried toward me, seeming flustered.
“If I ever get married, I want a man who is respected by my father. And we both know that Father has the utmost respect for you. You are important to him, Davian.”
“But this isn't about your father.”
I lowered my voice, hoping that might calm her down a little, because if Lorette showed up here, or even Anthony, and one of them told Joseph that I had made his daughter cry, it would cause tension between us that no one here needed.
“It's about you.”
She stared at me as if she were a child whom I had just confirmed that the tooth fairy did not exist and that no coin would ever appear under her pillow again.
“My time is running out.”
Her voice was fragile.
Nevertheless, I raised both eyebrows.
“You want children?”
I was sure that just a year ago, at a family dinner, she had told Lara that she wouldn’t have time for something like children until she had reached certain milestones in her political career.