Sheer self-indulgence
Under cut? most blatant self-insert I ever wrote, but I figure I should post it just for posterity's sake. Sorry to infliict it on you guys, but.... :P raterd PG, has blatant self insert and a certain pretty pop star in it :P
She shivered, cold despite the late summer heat. She wrapped her arms closer to her body and huddled deeper into the bench she was sitting on. She felt so very alone, so very tired… like the last straws had snapped.
“Excuse me," said a voice beside her "is this seat taken?"
She started and looked up; he smiled back at her, a slender, youthful figure, dark hair and dancing eyes gleaming in the sunshine...
She blinked. She must’ve been seeing things, her eyes clouded by tears; it couldn’t be…
“No,” she found herself saying, her voice hoarse from crying. “It’s free.”
Turning her face away from the vision that seemed so tempting but so false, she curled deeper in the corner.
"Heh, thanks." He slid easily down onto the bench beside her, graceful, stretching his long legs out and leaning back comfortably. For a moment he stared at the sky, smiling.
Then he looked down, and his attention suddenly focused. "...I'm sorry, are you all right?" The question came out awkward, but his voice was soft with concern.
She shivered again, not looking at him. “No,” she said quietly. “Not really.” She knew she should get up, not talk to him but just go, go inside, go home, go somewhere… but she didn’t have the strength to do so.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "Look, is there... I mean, do you need someone to talk to?" He leaned forward a little, looking at her with concern.
She wanted to say she didn’t want to talk, that the words wouldn’t come, that it would be futile and only echo the pain, not make it better, never make it better…. But as tears slowly leaked from the corners of her eyes, she found herself nodding ever-so-slightly. “Maybe.”
She felt his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t cry, please .Do you want me to call someone? Take you somewhere?”
”There’s no one to call,” she murmured, closing her eyes and shying away form his touch. She wanted him to touch her so much, wanted to fall into the warmth that soaked form his fingers to her shoulder, but she knew she shouldn’t… couldn’t….
“You’re shivering,” he said quietly. “Please, come with me, let’s go inside and I’ll get you something warm to drink, okay?”
She didn’t realize she had whispered a yes before she felt his arm come around her shoulders and his hand taking hold of hers, gently tugging; her eyes still closed to staunch the flow of tears she stood on shaky feet, trying to not to fall into his arms like a weakling fool…
“There’s a coffee shop just across the street,” he whispered into her hair, his breath warm against her skin and she couldn’t hold back a shiver. “Can I take you there?”
She nodded numbly, and did not resist as he slowly led her the few dozen yards into the coffee hop, opening the door for her as they stepped into the dim little place.
She stumbled on the doorstep and he caught her, her heart hammered in her throat as she clung to him, breathing in his scent, whimpering; it as so easy to think that this was truly him and not some Good Samaritan, or just an apparition of her feverish mind, a sign that she had finally snapped for good...
“Are you all right?” he asked her, and she could only nod. She wasn’t all right, she was far from anything being right but... she wasn’t hurt by her stumble.
He was gentle when he led her to a booth, where he sun’s rays gave just a little light. She sat down, shivering as she curled in the corner away from him. Away from making a fool of herself…
She felt a sudden warmth come over her; the familiar scent surrounding her; as her eyes fluttered open she realized he had taken off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders; it was without thinking that she pulled it closer to her body, murmuring a grateful thanks.
“I’ll get you something to drink;” he said quietly. “Would you like coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate? Something stronger?”
She shook her head. “No… “
“Please... you need to get something in you. You’re shivering. Tell me what you want?”
I want him to want me. I want love- I want to stop hurting. I want this to be real. I want everything I’ve never had. “Tea,” she managed to mumble, looking away from him. “If you insist.”
”I do,” he said quietly. “You just wait. I will be back.”
She closed her eyes and sank deeper into her corner, not that it was possible, the booth felt so small land she was afraid she’d push the table with her bulk. She hated being so ungainly, so horrible…. She hated this, hated herself. She wanted... oh, how she wanted him to be.. him and…… not just someone else. She was not sure what was going on, if she was going to wake up soon, or if her eyes had given up in her... or her sanity.. but this wasn’t happening.
“Here your tea,” he said quietly as he came back, sliding a big steaming mug on the table before her. “I didn’t know if you take milk or sugar…”
“It’s fine,” She whispered, reaching out for the mug. Her fingers were stiff s they wrapped around the mug and she bit her lip to not to moan as the heat began to seep through her. How could she be this cold, despite the warmth?
She sipped her tea, grateful of the warmth; she knew it was burning her lips but she didn’t care… she just wished she could be warm again. Wished she could feel love… the feel of his jacket around her shoulders was so very comforting... and he shouldn’t think that. Not when he as just... being nice.
“So,” he said after a while. “Would you like to talk now? You don’t have to but… I will listen, if you want to.”
She didn’t answer, so he continued. “Of course you might not want to talk to a complete stranger… my name’s Dima…”
At the mention of his name she froze, had she still been holding the mug it would have fallen from her lax fingers, shattering and spilling.
Dima.
It couldn’t really be him. It couldn’t be, this had to be a daydream and she had fallen asleep on that bench or maybe she had just snapped or…
“Did I say something wrong? Please, answer me?”
His hand touching her face made her realize she was staring at him, absorbing the familiar features with hunger she had thought gone by now…. The feel of his fingers on her skin made her shiver. “It’s you,” she whispered. “It’s really you.”
He blinked and smiled, just a little sheepishly. “I guess you know who I am, then?” He asked, cupping her face gently.
She couldn’t get the words out. Yes, she knew him. She wanted him, needed him, loved him, even if this was the first time she had ever been anywhere near him - unlike she never thought she would be. She couldn’t breathe, the thought that he was really here, looking at her with his eyes full of warmth and worry….
A huge sob wrenched through her body, tears bursting fort. She pulled away from him, unable to face him. She wrapped her arms around her body and huddled in the corner of the booth, hoping against hope that he would just disappear… because this couldn’t be real, and if this was... it hurt more than she had ever thought possible.
And then he was there, net to her, his arms wrapping around her trembling body; she didn’t resist as she was pulled against his chest, her face buried in his shirt as he murmured something so very soothing in Russian, his voice soft and quiet.
She could not stop crying, couldn’t stop clinging to him… she wanted to drown herself in his warmth, wanted to desperately believe that he cared…
“Please come with me,” he whispered. “Let me take you somewhere more private, where we can talk, okay? I don’t want to see you hurt, sweetie… you’re too pretty to cry…”
The next thing she realized was that she was cradled against his chest, inside a moving car; her face was still buried in his chest, and he was stroking her hair softly.
“You fainted,” he murmured as her eyes fluttered open. “I hope you aren’t mad at me but.. I am taking you to where I am staying, okay? You need to be taken care of, sweetie, you’re not in a fit state to be out there…”
She shivered, closing her eyes again. This had to be a dream, a vision... it couldn’t be real, he couldn’t be saying the words she had always longed to hear…
“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, his hand brushing against her face. “Don’t cry, sweetie… whatever it is, it will be all right. I promise.”
She wanted to believe him. Oh God she wanted to believe him so much… “You don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispered hoarsely. “What if you can’t make it right?”
”I promise, I will try,” he whispered. “Yeah I don’t know you, sweetie, I don’t even know your name... but when I saw you, I knew I wanted to get to know you and when you started crying, I knew I wanted to make you smile again… let me try, sweetie?”
“Ara,” she whispered, trying to block out the words that were too good to be true. “My name is Ara.”
“Then let me try, Ara?” he said softly, brushing her cheek with gentle fingers. “Tell me what’s wrong. Who made you cry?”
She bit her lip, closing her eyes. “You did.” And then it all spilled out, just how lonely she as, how no one had ever cared for her, how she had never felt what it was like to be loved... how every time she had let herself love, she had been burned. How she felt unworthy, how she couldn’t help but love what she thought he was like - how she had let herself hope and believe he could be the one for her even though he would never even know she drew breath…. and how it all had gotten to be too much….
“You must think I’m crazy,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from tears. She couldn’t look up, couldn’t se est. loathing in his eyes… “Just... just let me go and you never have to see me again...”
“No!” he exclaimed to her surprise, tightening his hold of her. “I am not letting you go, sweetie... not when I’m the one who’s hurting your.”
”It’s not your fault, you should not…” she tried to pull away from him, she didn’t want his pity… but his hold of her was too strong, his hand coming to brush her face gently.
“I don’t care whose fault it is,” he said gently as he lifted her chin, to force her look him in the eye. His eyes were only filled with warmth and concern. “I want to stop you from hurting. I want to care for you. I you let me, Ara? Will you let me get to know you? Will you get to know the real me, the one who might perhaps love you if you want him to?”
“Why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why would you?”
”Because you are beautiful,” he said equally quietly. “Because every moment I spend with you makes me wish I had met you a long time ago… so I could have spared you all this pain.”
She knew he couldn’t mean it, he couldn’t thinks he was beautiful, he was just telling it to make her feel better… “What will you tell me next? That you have always wanted someone like me?”
“I can’t tell you that,” he whispered. “I don’t know you yet. I just know that you’re beautiful and hurting, an that I want to know you. So I can have you, if you really are what I have been looking for.”
She shivered. “And what if I am not?”
He smiled softly. “Then I will be your friend, sweetie… and I will be there for you until you can find someone who wants you just like you are.”
This was too good to be true. “And what do you want?”
His expression turned serious. “Sweetie, if I told you, you would do your best to be that woman, no matter how much it would hurt you... wouldn’t you?”
She couldn’t deny it. “Yes.”
”So I won’t… just tell me about yourself, Ara, and we’ll go from there?”
She shivered, afraid. If he told him he would hate her. He would hate her for being crazy, for being weak and needy and nothing like someone he would want... but she couldn’t help but let his gentle persuasion work.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
The car stopped, and through the darkened glass - only then did she realize it was a limo that she was in - came a voice that spoke in Russian.
”We’re at my hotel, sweetie,” Dima whispered. “Please come with me? We can talk in comfort… you’re so pale and shaky, when did you last eat?”
She couldn’t remember, so she only shrugged.
”Damn you, girl… you do need someone to take care of you if you can’t even remember to eat.”
She shuddered. “Yeah right,” she snorts. She remembered all the comments and jokes about having been at home in time for dinner, knows she looks like all she does is sit on the sofa hitting the junk food…. Why was he making fun of her like that?”
”I mean it, he said softly, “You should eat. You should not try to starve yourself just because you think someone might love you like that… is not that what you have been doing?”
“Trying to,” she admitted. “I’m too weak for even that.”
”You’re not weak, sweetie... you’re sensible. Will you come with me now?”
She nodded.
They didn’t speak as he helped her out of the car, leading her to the private elevator. She couldn’t help but feel a shiver of fear; he could do anything to her and no one would know…but she didn’t care. Not when she was finally starting to slowly feel warmth seeping into her again from his touch.
The suite they entered took her breath away; it was like something straight out of a movie, nothing like she had ever thought to set foot in… and he was leading her forward, gently guiding her to sit on the plush sofa.
”Now, sweetie, you’re going to eat something,” he told her softly as he leaned down to brush her cheek. “And then we’ll talk.”
“I’m not hungry,” she said softly, looking down at her hands. Her nails were bitten and torn, digging into her thighs as she tried to not to wring her hands. “Don’t bother…”
”You need to eat, sweetie,” he said gently bur firmly. “Please. Just a little something?”
He reached out to the table next to the sofa and picked a ripe red plum from the basket of fruits. “Do you like these?”
She nodded shyly. She had always liked plums… when he held it out to her, their fingers brushed and she felt a small shiver born of warmth go through her.
She bit into the fruit; the plum was both sweet and tart on her lips, and utterly delicious. Closing her eyes she took another bite, licking the juice from her fingers without thinking. When she realized what she had done, she blushed, he must’ve think she had no manners at all…
“Here,” he said, tugging at her elbow. “A napkin.”
”Thank you,” She murmured, blushing. She quickly finished the fruit, wiping her fingers and wrapping the stone in the napkin. He took it from her and set it on the table before he sat next to her, holing her hand.
“Would you like something else?”
She shook her head. Her stomach was already turning nervously. She couldn’t have eaten anything else had she tried.
She didn’t resist as he pulled her into his arms, her head resting under his chin as he stroked her hair soothingly. “Now we can talk, sweetie.”
And so they did; it was almost too easy to tell him about herself, about her life, of her hopes and dreams... not just the crushing loneliness and obsession, but of her good days, of what brought her joy and what she wanted to do with her life... her friends, too, the ones she saw far too rarely and who she wished could be closer…
“So if you could have the life you want…”
”I would have a home,” she whispered. “And children. Someone who loves me as much as I love him. Someone to hold me, to love me, to keep me safe. Someone who comes home to me, lets me be myself….”
”How many children do you want?” He whispered hoarsely. “One? Two?”
She laughed. “A dozen. I know it’s strange, it makes me a freak but…”
”Don’t say that,” he said softly, raising his fingers to brush against her lips. “You aren’t a freak… can I tell you a story?”
She blinked. Why was he changing the subject like that? “Of course,” she whispered.
He smiled, kissing her hair softly. “Once upon a time, there was a guy. He had a bit of a talent for singing, and somehow, he became famous. But he never forgot what he wanted - someone to love, someone to have a family with. Someone who didn’t want him because of the glitz, but someone who wanted the guy behind everything… Then, one day, he was out and saw the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, sitting alone... Now, this guy, hoes not very good with women,” he chuckled ruefully.
“He’s too nice, or not nice enough, depending on who you ask. But he decides he’ll try to talk to her, and he does... only to find her crying. He can’t help it, he has to ask her what is wrong, how he can help her… and what happens? The incredibly beautiful woman tells him she might love him, even if she has never seen him before... and with every word she says, she turns out to be more lovely and ore perfect… the woman he has always wanted to find.”
She shivered; he couldn’t be telling g the truth... he couldn’t…
“He thinks, maybe this is a dream,” Dima continued. “But it’s not. It’s providence, isn’t it? You’ve been hurt so much, and now you are here… for me to care for, to be everything I could ever want..- if you let me. If I can be what you want.”
She couldn’t believe his words; this couldn’t be true... he couldn’t.. It wasn’t possible…. This was too good to be true. “What I want,” she whispered, tilting her head to look him in the eye, “Is someone who will take care of me. Someone who loves me. Someone sweet and nice... but still strong. Someone… like you.”
“I think I am dreaming,” he said, his brown eyes full of warmth. “But if I am... I never want to wake up.”
When he kissed her, she whimpered. It was not a hard kiss; just a gentle meeting of lips, but it made her feel so warm and good, the loneliness in her body slowly starting to disappear.
Maybe… just maybe she could be happy now.
Maybe I will write pr0n, too. maybe I will not. *shrugs' One never knows...
She shivered, cold despite the late summer heat. She wrapped her arms closer to her body and huddled deeper into the bench she was sitting on. She felt so very alone, so very tired… like the last straws had snapped.
“Excuse me," said a voice beside her "is this seat taken?"
She started and looked up; he smiled back at her, a slender, youthful figure, dark hair and dancing eyes gleaming in the sunshine...
She blinked. She must’ve been seeing things, her eyes clouded by tears; it couldn’t be…
“No,” she found herself saying, her voice hoarse from crying. “It’s free.”
Turning her face away from the vision that seemed so tempting but so false, she curled deeper in the corner.
"Heh, thanks." He slid easily down onto the bench beside her, graceful, stretching his long legs out and leaning back comfortably. For a moment he stared at the sky, smiling.
Then he looked down, and his attention suddenly focused. "...I'm sorry, are you all right?" The question came out awkward, but his voice was soft with concern.
She shivered again, not looking at him. “No,” she said quietly. “Not really.” She knew she should get up, not talk to him but just go, go inside, go home, go somewhere… but she didn’t have the strength to do so.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "Look, is there... I mean, do you need someone to talk to?" He leaned forward a little, looking at her with concern.
She wanted to say she didn’t want to talk, that the words wouldn’t come, that it would be futile and only echo the pain, not make it better, never make it better…. But as tears slowly leaked from the corners of her eyes, she found herself nodding ever-so-slightly. “Maybe.”
She felt his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t cry, please .Do you want me to call someone? Take you somewhere?”
”There’s no one to call,” she murmured, closing her eyes and shying away form his touch. She wanted him to touch her so much, wanted to fall into the warmth that soaked form his fingers to her shoulder, but she knew she shouldn’t… couldn’t….
“You’re shivering,” he said quietly. “Please, come with me, let’s go inside and I’ll get you something warm to drink, okay?”
She didn’t realize she had whispered a yes before she felt his arm come around her shoulders and his hand taking hold of hers, gently tugging; her eyes still closed to staunch the flow of tears she stood on shaky feet, trying to not to fall into his arms like a weakling fool…
“There’s a coffee shop just across the street,” he whispered into her hair, his breath warm against her skin and she couldn’t hold back a shiver. “Can I take you there?”
She nodded numbly, and did not resist as he slowly led her the few dozen yards into the coffee hop, opening the door for her as they stepped into the dim little place.
She stumbled on the doorstep and he caught her, her heart hammered in her throat as she clung to him, breathing in his scent, whimpering; it as so easy to think that this was truly him and not some Good Samaritan, or just an apparition of her feverish mind, a sign that she had finally snapped for good...
“Are you all right?” he asked her, and she could only nod. She wasn’t all right, she was far from anything being right but... she wasn’t hurt by her stumble.
He was gentle when he led her to a booth, where he sun’s rays gave just a little light. She sat down, shivering as she curled in the corner away from him. Away from making a fool of herself…
She felt a sudden warmth come over her; the familiar scent surrounding her; as her eyes fluttered open she realized he had taken off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders; it was without thinking that she pulled it closer to her body, murmuring a grateful thanks.
“I’ll get you something to drink;” he said quietly. “Would you like coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate? Something stronger?”
She shook her head. “No… “
“Please... you need to get something in you. You’re shivering. Tell me what you want?”
I want him to want me. I want love- I want to stop hurting. I want this to be real. I want everything I’ve never had. “Tea,” she managed to mumble, looking away from him. “If you insist.”
”I do,” he said quietly. “You just wait. I will be back.”
She closed her eyes and sank deeper into her corner, not that it was possible, the booth felt so small land she was afraid she’d push the table with her bulk. She hated being so ungainly, so horrible…. She hated this, hated herself. She wanted... oh, how she wanted him to be.. him and…… not just someone else. She was not sure what was going on, if she was going to wake up soon, or if her eyes had given up in her... or her sanity.. but this wasn’t happening.
“Here your tea,” he said quietly as he came back, sliding a big steaming mug on the table before her. “I didn’t know if you take milk or sugar…”
“It’s fine,” She whispered, reaching out for the mug. Her fingers were stiff s they wrapped around the mug and she bit her lip to not to moan as the heat began to seep through her. How could she be this cold, despite the warmth?
She sipped her tea, grateful of the warmth; she knew it was burning her lips but she didn’t care… she just wished she could be warm again. Wished she could feel love… the feel of his jacket around her shoulders was so very comforting... and he shouldn’t think that. Not when he as just... being nice.
“So,” he said after a while. “Would you like to talk now? You don’t have to but… I will listen, if you want to.”
She didn’t answer, so he continued. “Of course you might not want to talk to a complete stranger… my name’s Dima…”
At the mention of his name she froze, had she still been holding the mug it would have fallen from her lax fingers, shattering and spilling.
Dima.
It couldn’t really be him. It couldn’t be, this had to be a daydream and she had fallen asleep on that bench or maybe she had just snapped or…
“Did I say something wrong? Please, answer me?”
His hand touching her face made her realize she was staring at him, absorbing the familiar features with hunger she had thought gone by now…. The feel of his fingers on her skin made her shiver. “It’s you,” she whispered. “It’s really you.”
He blinked and smiled, just a little sheepishly. “I guess you know who I am, then?” He asked, cupping her face gently.
She couldn’t get the words out. Yes, she knew him. She wanted him, needed him, loved him, even if this was the first time she had ever been anywhere near him - unlike she never thought she would be. She couldn’t breathe, the thought that he was really here, looking at her with his eyes full of warmth and worry….
A huge sob wrenched through her body, tears bursting fort. She pulled away from him, unable to face him. She wrapped her arms around her body and huddled in the corner of the booth, hoping against hope that he would just disappear… because this couldn’t be real, and if this was... it hurt more than she had ever thought possible.
And then he was there, net to her, his arms wrapping around her trembling body; she didn’t resist as she was pulled against his chest, her face buried in his shirt as he murmured something so very soothing in Russian, his voice soft and quiet.
She could not stop crying, couldn’t stop clinging to him… she wanted to drown herself in his warmth, wanted to desperately believe that he cared…
“Please come with me,” he whispered. “Let me take you somewhere more private, where we can talk, okay? I don’t want to see you hurt, sweetie… you’re too pretty to cry…”
The next thing she realized was that she was cradled against his chest, inside a moving car; her face was still buried in his chest, and he was stroking her hair softly.
“You fainted,” he murmured as her eyes fluttered open. “I hope you aren’t mad at me but.. I am taking you to where I am staying, okay? You need to be taken care of, sweetie, you’re not in a fit state to be out there…”
She shivered, closing her eyes again. This had to be a dream, a vision... it couldn’t be real, he couldn’t be saying the words she had always longed to hear…
“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, his hand brushing against her face. “Don’t cry, sweetie… whatever it is, it will be all right. I promise.”
She wanted to believe him. Oh God she wanted to believe him so much… “You don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispered hoarsely. “What if you can’t make it right?”
”I promise, I will try,” he whispered. “Yeah I don’t know you, sweetie, I don’t even know your name... but when I saw you, I knew I wanted to get to know you and when you started crying, I knew I wanted to make you smile again… let me try, sweetie?”
“Ara,” she whispered, trying to block out the words that were too good to be true. “My name is Ara.”
“Then let me try, Ara?” he said softly, brushing her cheek with gentle fingers. “Tell me what’s wrong. Who made you cry?”
She bit her lip, closing her eyes. “You did.” And then it all spilled out, just how lonely she as, how no one had ever cared for her, how she had never felt what it was like to be loved... how every time she had let herself love, she had been burned. How she felt unworthy, how she couldn’t help but love what she thought he was like - how she had let herself hope and believe he could be the one for her even though he would never even know she drew breath…. and how it all had gotten to be too much….
“You must think I’m crazy,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from tears. She couldn’t look up, couldn’t se est. loathing in his eyes… “Just... just let me go and you never have to see me again...”
“No!” he exclaimed to her surprise, tightening his hold of her. “I am not letting you go, sweetie... not when I’m the one who’s hurting your.”
”It’s not your fault, you should not…” she tried to pull away from him, she didn’t want his pity… but his hold of her was too strong, his hand coming to brush her face gently.
“I don’t care whose fault it is,” he said gently as he lifted her chin, to force her look him in the eye. His eyes were only filled with warmth and concern. “I want to stop you from hurting. I want to care for you. I you let me, Ara? Will you let me get to know you? Will you get to know the real me, the one who might perhaps love you if you want him to?”
“Why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why would you?”
”Because you are beautiful,” he said equally quietly. “Because every moment I spend with you makes me wish I had met you a long time ago… so I could have spared you all this pain.”
She knew he couldn’t mean it, he couldn’t thinks he was beautiful, he was just telling it to make her feel better… “What will you tell me next? That you have always wanted someone like me?”
“I can’t tell you that,” he whispered. “I don’t know you yet. I just know that you’re beautiful and hurting, an that I want to know you. So I can have you, if you really are what I have been looking for.”
She shivered. “And what if I am not?”
He smiled softly. “Then I will be your friend, sweetie… and I will be there for you until you can find someone who wants you just like you are.”
This was too good to be true. “And what do you want?”
His expression turned serious. “Sweetie, if I told you, you would do your best to be that woman, no matter how much it would hurt you... wouldn’t you?”
She couldn’t deny it. “Yes.”
”So I won’t… just tell me about yourself, Ara, and we’ll go from there?”
She shivered, afraid. If he told him he would hate her. He would hate her for being crazy, for being weak and needy and nothing like someone he would want... but she couldn’t help but let his gentle persuasion work.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
The car stopped, and through the darkened glass - only then did she realize it was a limo that she was in - came a voice that spoke in Russian.
”We’re at my hotel, sweetie,” Dima whispered. “Please come with me? We can talk in comfort… you’re so pale and shaky, when did you last eat?”
She couldn’t remember, so she only shrugged.
”Damn you, girl… you do need someone to take care of you if you can’t even remember to eat.”
She shuddered. “Yeah right,” she snorts. She remembered all the comments and jokes about having been at home in time for dinner, knows she looks like all she does is sit on the sofa hitting the junk food…. Why was he making fun of her like that?”
”I mean it, he said softly, “You should eat. You should not try to starve yourself just because you think someone might love you like that… is not that what you have been doing?”
“Trying to,” she admitted. “I’m too weak for even that.”
”You’re not weak, sweetie... you’re sensible. Will you come with me now?”
She nodded.
They didn’t speak as he helped her out of the car, leading her to the private elevator. She couldn’t help but feel a shiver of fear; he could do anything to her and no one would know…but she didn’t care. Not when she was finally starting to slowly feel warmth seeping into her again from his touch.
The suite they entered took her breath away; it was like something straight out of a movie, nothing like she had ever thought to set foot in… and he was leading her forward, gently guiding her to sit on the plush sofa.
”Now, sweetie, you’re going to eat something,” he told her softly as he leaned down to brush her cheek. “And then we’ll talk.”
“I’m not hungry,” she said softly, looking down at her hands. Her nails were bitten and torn, digging into her thighs as she tried to not to wring her hands. “Don’t bother…”
”You need to eat, sweetie,” he said gently bur firmly. “Please. Just a little something?”
He reached out to the table next to the sofa and picked a ripe red plum from the basket of fruits. “Do you like these?”
She nodded shyly. She had always liked plums… when he held it out to her, their fingers brushed and she felt a small shiver born of warmth go through her.
She bit into the fruit; the plum was both sweet and tart on her lips, and utterly delicious. Closing her eyes she took another bite, licking the juice from her fingers without thinking. When she realized what she had done, she blushed, he must’ve think she had no manners at all…
“Here,” he said, tugging at her elbow. “A napkin.”
”Thank you,” She murmured, blushing. She quickly finished the fruit, wiping her fingers and wrapping the stone in the napkin. He took it from her and set it on the table before he sat next to her, holing her hand.
“Would you like something else?”
She shook her head. Her stomach was already turning nervously. She couldn’t have eaten anything else had she tried.
She didn’t resist as he pulled her into his arms, her head resting under his chin as he stroked her hair soothingly. “Now we can talk, sweetie.”
And so they did; it was almost too easy to tell him about herself, about her life, of her hopes and dreams... not just the crushing loneliness and obsession, but of her good days, of what brought her joy and what she wanted to do with her life... her friends, too, the ones she saw far too rarely and who she wished could be closer…
“So if you could have the life you want…”
”I would have a home,” she whispered. “And children. Someone who loves me as much as I love him. Someone to hold me, to love me, to keep me safe. Someone who comes home to me, lets me be myself….”
”How many children do you want?” He whispered hoarsely. “One? Two?”
She laughed. “A dozen. I know it’s strange, it makes me a freak but…”
”Don’t say that,” he said softly, raising his fingers to brush against her lips. “You aren’t a freak… can I tell you a story?”
She blinked. Why was he changing the subject like that? “Of course,” she whispered.
He smiled, kissing her hair softly. “Once upon a time, there was a guy. He had a bit of a talent for singing, and somehow, he became famous. But he never forgot what he wanted - someone to love, someone to have a family with. Someone who didn’t want him because of the glitz, but someone who wanted the guy behind everything… Then, one day, he was out and saw the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, sitting alone... Now, this guy, hoes not very good with women,” he chuckled ruefully.
“He’s too nice, or not nice enough, depending on who you ask. But he decides he’ll try to talk to her, and he does... only to find her crying. He can’t help it, he has to ask her what is wrong, how he can help her… and what happens? The incredibly beautiful woman tells him she might love him, even if she has never seen him before... and with every word she says, she turns out to be more lovely and ore perfect… the woman he has always wanted to find.”
She shivered; he couldn’t be telling g the truth... he couldn’t…
“He thinks, maybe this is a dream,” Dima continued. “But it’s not. It’s providence, isn’t it? You’ve been hurt so much, and now you are here… for me to care for, to be everything I could ever want..- if you let me. If I can be what you want.”
She couldn’t believe his words; this couldn’t be true... he couldn’t.. It wasn’t possible…. This was too good to be true. “What I want,” she whispered, tilting her head to look him in the eye, “Is someone who will take care of me. Someone who loves me. Someone sweet and nice... but still strong. Someone… like you.”
“I think I am dreaming,” he said, his brown eyes full of warmth. “But if I am... I never want to wake up.”
When he kissed her, she whimpered. It was not a hard kiss; just a gentle meeting of lips, but it made her feel so warm and good, the loneliness in her body slowly starting to disappear.
Maybe… just maybe she could be happy now.
Maybe I will write pr0n, too. maybe I will not. *shrugs' One never knows...