22
AMBRA
I receive his violent fist while he's screaming that he wants me. Just words dissolving in the air. He breaks my bones as if they were branches of a leafless oak and I hear a crack.
It's the sound of a break.
He is an inferior being, I repeat, and you a scared woman. He arranges my bruises like drawings of a canvas to be filled; he’s violent; he's extreme.
I hear another crack. His slap is like a wave crashing down and dragging me into an invisible abyss. My skin is burning; my soul is sinking. It's just his outburst, I repeat to myself. His desire is sick, angry and tormented. It comes from the deep, a dark place that attracts me.
“You’re my winged demon,” he whispers.
“You’ll have my goodbye and I'll be free,” I shout.
Free, free from him.
I hear crack again; no bones crumbling; no soul breaking. It is my heart that feels a new dark consistency and splits intoning that crack.
What woman would I be if I let him in?
What woman would I be if I understood his madness?
What woman would I be if I wanted him?
I wake up in a sweat, shaking under the silk sheets.
“Krum!” His name flees from my lips in a request for comforting.
It's still afternoon. Time never goes by.
The sound of my heart reminds me of that "crack". The nightmare of feeling him on me hurts like a devastating thunder bolt. He was beating me, in my dream he beat me.
My god, I have goose bumps.
My throat is dry and I run to the cabinet to get a glass of water. My hands tremble and I still see his furious eyes radiating rage and torment.
No, he’d never do it, he wouldn’t hurt me so much, even though he has always treated me with little respect. His grip on my wrists cannot be compared to the sorrow experienced in my nightmare, to the sound of his slaps, or to the imperceptible whisper of blood flowing from my mouth.
No, he’d never do it.
Krum is obscure, wild, angry, violent, but not to the point to lift a finger on me as in this nightmare that doesn’t even tend to vanish.
I massage my temples. My headache is incessant. The discussion we had, left on me the mark of an unexpected farewell. It was a break as I perceived it. He told me that there was no room for him in my life and it’s true. I’d never allow him to be part of my world. He deserves no place, nor am I here to reflect on the harshness of my words.
It’s so paradoxical that I feel this sense of guilt, as if my insults had suddenly become wrong and his silent requests for forgiveness had become worthy of attention.
He’s never apologized for being my dark past and my darkest present. He’s never asked for forgiveness for coming into my head every night and penetrating my soul by inflicting it with his golden glow.
I swallow and massage my arms with a fake hug. My eyes close and I imagine my own hands are Krum's. I feel his lips on the lobe of my ear and imagine him whispering his sweet apologies.
He’ll never do it. He isn’t that kind of man.
No, he’s not and it was absolutely right to have told him that he can never be something to me.
Nothing.
I'm angry with myself because my mind produces certain thoughts I'm furious with my body that heats up every time he looks at me and suffers his absence when it doesn’t feel his touch, even minimal, even tough, even furious.
I'm so confused that I cannot think clearly. I hope that certain thoughts aren’t related to the same long-lasting desire for that man with a covered face whose face is no longer unknown.
I know who he is, I know how he is and I know he is… incredibly attractive.
I'm going to freshen up in the bathroom. I brush my teeth and try to arrange my slightly wavy hair. I avoid looking at my eyes in the mirror: they are out like a dead light bulb. They won’t light up so easily on other occasions. But that's fine. I'm here, I'll try to figure out why, I'll stay at the Temple and respect the promise. I won’t run away and I’ll follow dad’s suggestions, who asked me to give in and be sly.
I go back to the room and When I see the key hanging on the lock. I remember Krum's gesture. That was his "farewell", the answer to my illness. Leaving the key, he wanted to tell me he wouldn’t control me anymore and would let me go.
I should be happy, I should be pleased to have gotten my right to freedom, but – inside – I feel anxious and abandoned.
What's my problem? Why do I want that man to stay with me? Why do I send him away and then think of him and then desperately look for him? Why?
I leave my room, hoping to meet someone who will give me a cell phone to call Mom. I wander a bit, then I hear metal noises and clear dings. I approach the area from which the sounds come and when I pass an open entry, I see a wide room where a number of gym machines all around.
There are several men training. I step through various free corridors looking for a familiar face. Then I see him and I’m petrified in the center of the room.
Krum hangs on an axle and rises doing a series of pull ups. His naked chest is shining with sweat; his abs pumping out of strain. His powerful arms are adorned with visible veins. He didn’t notice me. His gaze is lost in space. His body concentrates on all his energy, as if he wants to torture it with a heavy workout.
My head moves up and down, watching that incredibly seductive dance. I had never seen him without clothes. He’s just wearing shorts that show all the muscular tissues working out. He inhales and exhales; his lips pucker blowing out. His hair falls on his forehead in a wet and shiny lock.
He's so cool.
Watching his body causes sparks in mine. Sparks of desire.
Suddenly I see his eyes turn to me and gape out of surprise. He drops down off of the axle and falls to the ground, turning away, as if he deliberately wanted to ignore me.
He resumes his workout stretching out on a bench and I realize I look like an idiot chained to the floor. I try to look away from the perfection of his active body and I see Oscar staring at me from a treadmill. I see him slowing down and getting off. He steps toward me and I sigh cheerfully. It was he who I was looking for.
I swallow and I try to pull myself together, hoping to get rid of that dazed expression on my face.
“Ambra, what’re you doing here?” Oscar asks. “Did Krum give you the key to your room?” He throws a towel over his shoulder and puts his hands on his hips. He also has a nice body and I realize it only now.
“Ehm… yes, he… gave me the key,” I speak in a low voice. I don’t want him to hear me.
“Do you need anything?”
“I wanted to ask you for a phone to call my mother.”
“Oh, sure. Come with me.”
Before leaving the room, I look back hoping to see some consideration from Krum, but he’s immersed in his workout and doesn’t even realize I'm leaving.
It's better this way. This is the right way we must be: distant.
Do you think you'll forget him being far away?
I shake my head, I feel teased by the other insolent me.
“Are you ok?” Oscar's voice brings me back to reality.
“Yes, yes.”
“How did you convince Krum to give you the key?” He has such a genuine smile that it’s not easy to lie to him.
“We got in an argument.” As we climb the stairs, I start to feel a sense of tranquility that I rarely experience with strangers. Oscar makes me comfortable and makes a conversation simple.
“What else did he do?”
“Nothing, just… it's better if we don’t spend too much time together.”
“And in your opinion, spending time with Manuel is the best solution?”
“I can’t understand why you all have problems with him.”
“Oh, I don’t have any problems with him. He’s my friend.”
We go beyond my floor. I’ve never gone beyond the floor where I sleep. I suppose Krum's room is there, too.
“What do you think about the fact that I’ve invited Manuel?” Oscar's opinion is important for me.
“I think you wished to oppose Krum shamelessly.”
I look at him sideways. He is right, but I don’t want to confirm it.
“No, you're wrong.”
“Ivanka,” he chants.
“What are you insinuating?”
“Come on, Ambra, it was too obvious. You asked Manuel to accompany you only because you heard that Krum and Ivanka are…” he draws the quotes in the air and announces: “intimate.”
He stops in front of a door and I lean against the wall, crossing my arms on my chest.
“And are they?” I ask. I already know that Ivanka and Krum have sex, but the word intimate scares me a bit more.
Does that scare you? What are you saying?!
“If by intimate you mean they have sex for physical need, yes, they are very intimate. But if you mean they have a relationship, no, they don't at all. Krum has no relationship with himself either. He isn’t able to conceive a relationship that goes beyond the hours he needs for a regenerating fuck.”
I am puzzled and also a bit confused. Krum doesn’t look like a person unable to establish a relationship, at least that’s my impression. Especially after this morning, when he brought me to see the collections of the Temple.
“Anyway, I’ll never understand him, and I don’t intend to get to know him. He scares me too much.”
He opens the door and gives me room to go in.
“Led is that way. You don’t understand him because he is the one who doesn’t want to be understood.”
“Led?”
“Ice in Bulgarian. That’s what we call him and I don’t think I have to explain why.”
“Ah!”
I look down, I don’t agree that he’s made of ice. He was at the beginning, but with me he seems to melt; seems to give me free access.
I sigh, because it’s useless to make certain considerations. We have drawn a limit around ourselves and today's discussion was fairly clear. He cannot be part of my life and the situation is the same for me.
Oscar’s room is in the same style as mine but it’s less formal because it contains personal items and is visibly lived in. Here, too, there is a canopy bed made of perforated wood columns, but the colors are more masculine, ranging from cream to dark blue.
“Here,” he gives me the phone and I take it hesitantly. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”
I look up at him who stares at me reassuringly. It doesn’t make any difference if he stays or goes away.
“I…” I hesitate. My mind is producing unexpected considerations. “I'm not sure I want to call my mother.”
“Why not?” He takes off his shirt without any shame, I blush and look down. He still has all his muscles contracted from the strain. His skin is much lighter than Krum’s.
“After all, my mother has always known everything and never said anything to me. She knows I'm here and she hasn’t looked for me. Now that I think about it, she could have called me or asked me about me, I don’t know… send me a message. She didn’t do it.”
Oscar advances toward me. His blue eyes shine with certainty.
“Don't think your mother doesn’t love you.”
“I don’t think that, but…”
“She’s been given precise instructions. The Sect is a serious thing, Ambra. you'll realize it soon. If she didn’t do anything, it’s because she didn’t want to oppose Leonardo, who only wanted to assure the members of their privacy about their identity.”
“I understand, but suddenly I don’t want to call her anymore.”
Oscar cannot convince me. The sense of abandonment I feel is stronger than the desire to talk to my mother. Something within me is rebelling. Not calling her, I’m punishing her silence. I know she doesn’t deserve my indifference, but I don’t think I deserve all this either, though I still don’t know what this is all about.
“I'll just call Emma.”
“Do as you wish,” he smiles and I smile back with a mischievous look.
“You'll have her number on your cell phone now. I know you're leaping for joy in your mind.”
“Don’t exaggerate. I told you I like her and pleasure is just… pleasure.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure!”
He sits on the bed and begins to take off his shoes. I hope he doesn’t feel so comfortable to go further, as he is only wearing his tracksuit trousers.
“What can I tell her? What should I avoid telling her?”
“Invent something. You surely can't tell her about Krum dragging you away in the middle of the night and that the Temple is the point of reference for a modern secret association.”
“Okay, I'll tell her I'm here for family business and I have to attend some meetings. She’ll believe me and knowing her, she'll consider all this exciting.”
“Really?”
I think Oscar is more and more intrigued by Emma.
I dial up my friend's number and wait for the answer. When she does, I don’t have time to speak.
“Hello,” her apparently delicate voice is heard from the speaker phone.
“Emma, It's Ambra.”
“You’re no more than an ungrateful friend! Where the hell are you? I’ve tried to call you for days! I even went to your house and Clara told me you are out for business. Business? Who believes it! You taking care of your father's business!”
“Emma…”
Oscar is laughing.
“Since when are you interested in the family's industries? Have you decided to have the boring life of the rich heiress? Tell me the truth, did you run away with that guy from the party. Did you think I hadn’t noticed it? I saw you outside and I saw you on the pier. I. Saw. You. Miss. Did you fuck him? He was so cool.”
“Emma, please, can I speak now?”
“No, because if you're going to tell me nonsense and tell me you're working, like Clara did, I'll hang up right away and I won’t tell you about my news.”
I sigh exasperated, staring at Oscar, who is inviting to let her speak.
“Okay, let's talk about you, as usual!”
“Thanks, dear. You know I need to vent. You haven’t been here and I couldn’t talk to anyone. I'll be short, then you can tell me what you're up to.”
“You are a selfish friend!”
“Yes, and you’re a liar and plotter.”
“Speak!”
Oscar gets himself comfortable between the pillows of his bed. He is so cute. You can clearly read in his face the hope of hearing Emma talking about him.
“Do you remember that guy at the Arcano?”
Oscar whispers: “Oh yes.”
I’ve never had a male friend who showed his interest in a girlfriend. The situation is so sweet and fun at the same time. I put the cell phone on the mattress and I get comfortable, too.
“Go on,” I urge.
“Well, we went in one of those rooms with the curtains. You know those erotic rooms…”
“You didn’t go to bed with him, did you?” I reproach her, pretending not to know anything.
“How I wished it!” she screams.
Oscar takes a pillow and presses it on his face, I think to soften his exultant grin.
“So? What is so exciting?”
“What is so exciting?” she laughs annoyed. “Don’t you realize I've never talked to anyone after a date?”
“Yes, So?” I already know where she wants to go, but Oscar is here and I want to make her talk. I'm going to be a traitor, but at the moment, the expression of this guy is so tender. He wants to know.
“I’ve been thinking of him for days, I’ve looked for him like crazy. He said his name is Oscar and nothing else. I can’t find anyone called Oscar and who is blonde, Damn it.”
“You are looking for him? But if you haven’t even seen his face!”
“That's the amazing thing, Ambra. The fact that I'm going mad with the desire to know what he is like shows my real interest. I've never been interested in anyone, you know. Maybe I'm a normal person, don’t you think so? I’m redeemable, there is hope.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think it's normal to be infatuated by a masked guy who is attending a party full of perverts.”
Oscar kills me with a glare, but they’re not Krum’s typical glances. Anyway, he looks amused.
“Anyway, dear, I wanna find this man.”
“Why?”
Oscar says “ok” with his thumbs up, appreciating my question.
“Because for the first time I’ve found it more interesting to talk to a man than to try to put my hands on him. Do you understand?”
Oscar presses a pillow on his face again. He is enjoying shamelessly.
“And if you wouldn’t like him physically?”
“No, no, no, no… such a voice must belong to a good looking man.”
“What if he doesn’t like you?”
“Don’t say bullshit. Everybody likes me!”
Oscar laughs.
“Listen, I called you to give you instructions.”
“You're already talking as the president of the Livori industries,” she teases
“I'm staying in a villa, in the house of Leonardo Andolfi.”
“He’s one of my father’s friends, what are you doing there?”
“Do you know him?” I wonder.
“I told you, my dad often named him, I think he's kind of a politician, businessman, a very rich guy.”
“Exactly. My father did business with him and the notary asked me to personally attend to some business. So I’ve been here for a couple of days.”
“Oh, weird.”
“I decided to…” I'm not good at lies, but at least she cannot see me. Oscar urges me to continue. “I decided to stay here because it is more practical. I’ve been instructed on several things. You know I don’t understand anything about accounting.”
“I know that one!”
“Tonight he’s giving an elegant dinner and told me I could invite someone, so I thought about you.”
“I love to be in your thoughts on these occasions. What time?”
It's too easy to convince her when she has to come to a party.
“Oh, wait a minute!”
Oscar begins to whisper words. It’s difficult for me to understand.
“A driver is going to get her,” he whispers. I nod and report.
“One of Andolfi's drivers is coming to get you, okay?”
“Okay.”
Oscar indicates the time with his fingers and I inform Emma, curling up my nose a bit because it’s really early in my opinion.
“At 7 p.m.”
“So early? Damn, I have to do a thousand things.”
I already imagine her in her own beauty farm doing, I don’t know what.
“Can you do me a favour, please?” I ask. “Can you pass by my house and tell my mother that you heard from me and that I'm okay? Lately we have argued and I don’t want to call her. Take some clothes from my room, underwear and a more elegant dress for tonight, not the yellow one.”
“Anything else, your highness?”
“No, now move your ass, it is late.”
“I’ll never be on time.”
“You will be.”
“How exciting!” she screams.
“Maybe there'll be a surprise for you tonight.”
“Surprise? What surprise?”
“Bye Bye.”
“Ambra!”
I bring the cell phone close to my mouth and scream.
“Byeeeeeeeee!” and I hang up.
“She's nice,” Oscar comments. “That's exactly how I remembered her.”
“And you're madly in love!”
“Stop it!”
Spending the afternoon with Oscar has relieved the sense of desolation I felt awakening after that nightmare. Only a few hours have passed, but I realize that I, somehow insane, miss Krum.
I wanted to laugh with Krum carefree, but in front of me I only have Oscar, who I don’t know at all and that it’s like I’ve known him for a lifetime.
Oscar proposes to accompany me to my room. Actually it's late and I have to get ready for Emma's arrival. When we pass in front of a door, he tells me that it’s Krum's room. I don’t comment on the reason why he told me, but I see his mischievous look. He knows that there is tension between me and Krum, and maybe telling me that was his room, meant: “You can find him here.”
When I get back to my room, I relax with a warm bath. My hands washing my body create hot visions. They aren’t my hands, they are Krum's.