Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
We're Losing Ourselves
The next morning I open my eyes, blinking lazily. It's Sunday.
Hair day.
I yawn and stretch my limbs with a little moan, sliding lazily along the crisp grey covers of Alexander's bed. The first thing I notice is I feel incredibly refreshed and at peace. The second thing I notice is my baby's still gone. My eyes sting at the reminder.
I tilt my head around and see the other side of the bed empty. Sitting up I wince at the painful twinge in my back, looking around the room.
Where is he?
Getting out slowly, I flex my toes against the embossed rug, feeling the slightly scratchy woven wool against my feet. I pad to the bathroom to relieve myself and to check my hair. It's not too bad, so I run a brush through it and then wash my face and brush my teeth.
Seeing the slight shadow of the bruise on my jaw has finally faded to not be noticeable, I just brush my eyebrows out and put a very light coat of mascara on, leaving my face bare and then head to my bag of clothes.
Needing to feel something soft and comforting against me today, I put on a slightly loose calf-length mocha colored dress.
The material is soft and flows over my curves just right, and I can't help but hope that he likes what he sees when I say good morning.
Jesus, I feel kind of like a whore. Why do I care what this man thinks of me? Furthermore, how am I having these feelings of attraction while I'm grieving? My eyes widen as it clicks into place. I'm fucking trauma bonding with this man. I have to be. No one catches feelings this quickly. Do they?
Now, I'm more desperate than ever to get myself into counseling. I have too much to navigate. My daddy issues, the miscarriage, my abusive relationship, and now whatever this is that's budding to life between Alex and me.
Biting my lip, I ponder for a moment. Have I been wearing blinders during my grief, and I'm just making myself think he's attracted to me? I'm so confused.
I turn to the doorway, pausing at the sight of a white pair of slippers placed in front of the door.
Directly in front, so I had no chance of missing them.
Something blossoms in my heart at the prospect of him thinking about something so simple, and I slide my feet into them before exiting the room, making my way downstairs to find him.
Pausing halfway down the stairs, I grasp the iron and glass railing and feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I hear haunting instrumental music come from the lounge near the foyer.
The music gets slightly louder with my descent and the passion of the melody, and my ears prick curiously.
My mouth drops at the next note, and my flesh breaks out in goosebumps as I suddenly hear what sounds like a woman trilling passionately for several tense seconds.
I step off the bottom of the stairwell and turn into the the foyer when I see him. My heart begins to thud in my chest.
He's sitting in a plain wooden chair, dressed in all black with his sleeves pushed up his forearms. He's donned a very nice button-up shirt with the first couple buttons open, revealing his smooth chest, and he's surprisingly barefoot.
I swallow hard, feeling tendrils of desire settle deep in my belly at how handsome he is. How insanely talented he is.
How incredibly at peace he looks with his body curved over a dark, wooden cello, playing a song about a man's longing to fall in love.
Placing my hand to my chest, I feel my heart skip a beat as I watch him almost lovingly caress the strings as he sways with his instrument.
His eyes are closed, completely lost in the music as his fingers tremble on the strings, drawing out the beautiful, almost human sounding notes that had made my hair stand up on the back of my neck on the stairway.
I've never heard anything this beautiful before. Because what Alexander offers as he sits there, unaware I'm watching, is a gift. Something raw, innocent, and true. Something rarely seen in the theater. This is pain, a longing for hope. A wish in musical form.
Too bad there's not a star anywhere around here, I'd be wishing on it right about now.
Staying silent, because I don't want to disturb this trance he's in, I take a few steps in the room; nevertheless, despite how quiet I tried to be, his eyes suddenly snap open to meet mine.
I freeze. The startling blue irises pierce straight through to the center of me, keeping me in place with one foot stretched out as he plays without missing a single note.
I stay completely still even as my body catches on fire from the inside out.
Split open, we stare at each other for long moments as he continues to play, and he hits a note so perfect, so beautiful, that my lips part in surprise as I inhale a shaky breath.
No part of us is physically touching, but I've never had a moment with anyone this intimate before.
Something passes between us in this instant.
Something I can't decipher before he closes his eyes again, bowing his head over his instrument, and continues on.
Losing himself once again.
My heart flutters as I observe. Suddenly, in my mind’s eye, the cello disappears, and I imagine a woman straddling his lap. That’s how he looks as he crouches over his instrument… as if he's caressing a lover instead of wood and strings. And I become sad.
What I wouldn’t give for someone to hold me like that.
At this new-to-me revelation my eyes prick, and my lips tighten at the fierceness of my desire to be wanted. For someone to feel just as lost in me like Alexander so obviously is lost in his music.
Needing something to hold onto, my hands shake as I lift them to my belly and bunch the material there.
I need to hear more, memorize this feeling and hold it deep inside me so when I am able to try again, I won't settle for anything less than what this feeling does to me.
I deserve to have something just as raw.
Our eye contact now broken, I inch my way to a seat and settle down, crossing my legs and placing my chin into my palm.
I quickly find myself mesmerized by his movements, and I cant help my eyes narrowing slightly as I concentrate on his hands, his long fingers, and the light dusting of hair on his forearms. My own fingers flex, sliding up to my throat.
Wondering what it must be like to get an instrument to make the sounds he's evoking from his cello.
I know how to play the piano but not with the same passion and precision Alexander wields.
My throat immediately burns, reminding me that I am the instrument.
As the music stops, the last note reverberates around us as my eyes flick up, meeting his and seeing he'd been watching me as he ended the piece.
There's an interesting moment where we regard each other quietly, almost as if either one of us is scared that talking will ruin the peace filling the room.
Feeling shy, I look away to take a deep breath, blinking watering eyes. I hadn't even been aware I was moved to tears. That's how hypnotizing Alexander is.
“A-Alexander… that was absolutely beautiful. You make her sing something special.” I tilt my head back to meet his gaze, my fingers sliding to my shoulder and squeezing lightly, trying to ground myself the best I can.
Alexander’s eyes lowers to where my hand is clutching, and his features tighten slightly. Again I wonder if I'm wrong about being alone in this attraction like I think I am, because it really looks like there's something there.
“Thank you. I can’t remember the last time anyone heard me play,” he says, standing up fluidly and turning to put his instrument back on its stand in the corner.
Shame immediately fills me. What was I thinking intruding like this?
Because I wanted to feel something?
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have come in and made myself comfortable if I had known you wanted to be alone.” Now ashamed, I apologize profusely, rising from the couch and turning to face him. I bite my lip, giving him an apologetic look across the couch between us.
Alexander takes a couple steps towards me and wraps his hands around the back of the couch, his fingers digging in as he looks at me for so long I wonder what he's thinking about. He's quiet for long seconds as he just…stares.
Once again under his rather raw and blatantly unashamed assessment, I feel my face heat up, and my brows furrow slightly.
In a fit of self-consciousness, I tuck my right arm across my torso, and his eyes fall to watch my fingers wrap around my left elbow as I work to hold myself.
He doesn't seem to miss much, and it's a bit discombobulating to be laid so bare for him.
A tingle fills every part of me at how naked he just laid me.
Alexander's eyes rise back up to me, and he wets his bottom lip before replying. “I didn’t say I wanted to be left alone. If I wanted privacy, I wouldn’t have brought my instrument out to play, sweetness.”
A nickname…I slide my hand up to my shoulder; the movement pushes my breasts up slightly, and I suck my bottom lip between my teeth at the hard bob of his Adam’s apple as he works to swallow.
Pure feminine pleasure fills my being. Something that's been dormant inside of me for so long I almost didn't recognize that's what it is.
“Okay,” I say softly, looking away towards the fireplace, which boasts a big, beautiful black and white drawing of a ship above the mantle.
A lot like the little statue in my office, it’s sails flap in the wind to an unknown destination, but it's the birds in flight that catch my eye, making the piece stand out.
“Do you like it?” he asks, pulling me out of my musing.
My nostrils flare slightly, and my shoulders rise as I suck in a deep breath, yet staying quiet. Can I tell him I feel like a ship with no direction, when all I really want is to feel like the birds flying free and high in the clear blue sky?
No…I'll keep this to myself.