Jason

 

 

Two things were different this morning.

First, I didn't wake up with a terrible headache, even though I'm pretty sure we drank more of that hot wine last night than we did the night before.

Second, I didn't wake up alone on the couch. When I opened my eyes, I was upstairs, next to her, in her bed. I had never seen her bedroom before, and I was surprised when she asked me to come with her upstairs. There was a new sense of intimacy between us when I walked into her room. My eyes wandered through the small room, studying every little thing about it, even though there wasn't much to see. It's a tiny room with a sparse amount of furniture. A bed, a vanity, a dresser, and bookshelves. The walls were almost completely covered with bookshelves. She tried to stop me from taking a closer look, because she got embarrassed again. It was the cutest thing.

She had been naked, freshly fucked, with the new bruises she had begged me to make around her neck. We've had another play session, and this one included me throwing her into a pile of snow after she tested me, her level of sass growing with each act of misconduct I let pass. Her skin was still red from the cold when we returned inside to her room. She freely bared her body to me, but felt intimidated when I inspected her books.

Most of the titles were similar to the ones I saw downstairs, but there were also a few classics, old editions of Margaret Atwood and Louisa May Alcott next to contemporary titles, and some Fitzgerald and Salinger in-between. She's a bookworm for sure, and that interest is not restricted to steamy romances.

We ended the night with something that could easily be defined as love-making. I told myself that I was being gentle on her because her body had suffered enough. She's sore and bruised all over and couldn't take another session like our earlier ones.

But it was more than that. It felt right to be close to her in that way, to feel her skin against mine, to see right into her deep blue eyes as I thrust into her, to feel her erratic breath on my face. It was gentle and kind, but passionate.

We dozed off right after, and when I woke up this morning, she was still sleeping, or at least pretending to be. I slipped out of the room and took a quick shower before going downstairs to make breakfast for us. I felt like I needed to do something good for her, something nice.

I saw the hurt in her eyes last night. I saw it when I said that the weather was clearing up, I saw it when I said that I'd book a flight, and I saw it when we were fucking. A weight has settled on my heart, and I can't seem to do anything about it.

I can't stay. She knows that. I have to get back to New York. The urgency of returning there was what brought me here in the first place. I booked a flight and talked to my father, who was beyond happy to hear that I'd be back home by tonight.

Everything is set.

Her face lit up when she came downstairs and saw me preparing breakfast. It made me feel accomplished. Making her smile and moan is a lot more satisfying than watching sadness crush her. We ate and talked, ignoring the fact that I would be leaving in a few hours. She knows that my plane won't leave until this afternoon, and she hasn’t tried to convince me to stay. She never said anything, but she didn't have to. I don't know what she's waiting for, but I know I can't give it to her.

She's upstairs now, taking a shower, and though the thought of joining her crossed my mind, I don't. Instead, I'm pacing up and down the living room, always keeping a distance from that damn cage. I don't understand her fascination with that animal. The squirrel has become more familiar with me, constantly trying to climb up on me the same as it does on her. I've only let it because I didn't want to give her any reason to think I was afraid of a ridiculous little rodent. It doesn't bite, but its claws are made for climbing up tree bark and not human skin. She tolerates the pain that comes with the squirrel's affection a lot better than I do.

I can hear it making noises in its cage when I walk by it to the patio door leading out to the veranda. I open the door and step outside, lazily scanning the landscape in front of me. The view is very different from what I see on the roof terrace at my penthouse. Fields and trees instead of streets and skyscrapers. She'd probably love it, if what she said about her love for big cities is true. I can’t help but imagine her on my rooftop, her face beaming with amazement. It would be such a pretty sight.

I'm too deep in thought to realize my mistake. I left the door open behind me because I intended to go right back inside after grabbing a breath of fresh air.

I didn't even consider that the cage door might be open. And I didn't think the little devil would follow me. It's too late by the time I realize it, because it all happens way too fast. Something jumps up my leg, causing me to jerk in surprise and shake it off on instinct. The squirrel doesn't make a sound, it never does, but it flies through the air, visibly surprised by my rejection - and scared.

"Fuck! No!"

I wave my hands, as if that would help. The squirrel sits on the veranda for a moment, its tail twitching nervously. But as soon as I take a step closer, it darts off, scampering away from me, off into the yard and out of sight.

"You little fucker!" I yell after it, taking a few steps with the intention of chasing it, before I'm held back by a voice behind me.

"Risu?!"

Fuck. I turn around and find her standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but a shirt and yoga pants, her feet bare and her hair wet from the shower. She looks at me with widened eyes, her hand flying to her chest, as she yells out again. "Risu?!"

"I'm so sorry," I say, trying to calm her, raising my arms in an appeasing motion. "I left the door open, and she-"

"I know!" she interrupts. "I saw her running out when I came downstairs!"

She looks around frantically.

"Where'd she go?"

"You need to put on some clo-"

"Where'd she go?!"

Her eyes are filling with tears, and the sight of it pinches right through my chest. Fuck this. Seriously, fuck this.

"That way," I say, pointing in the direction Risu darted. "I'll help you look, but you can't run around outside like that."

She stares at me, her lower lip trembling as she nods.

I lead her back inside to put some clothes on.

"We'll find her," I promise.