The Student and The Stalker

Hand in hand, we walked down the wooded path to a private cabin I reserved for us. Here, in the isolated portion of the estate, everything was eerily quiet compared to the ballroom. We enjoyed the tranquil atmosphere and the break from the hectic party. Everything inside was dressed up and artificial. Almost everything out here was real.

We walked along a barren path, listening to the soft dirt move under our feet. Crickets sang a lullaby, and owls hooted a love song. Electric lamps lined both sides of the path to illuminate the way. The cabin was about a mile from the estate. The smell of damp earth and healthy trees filled me with a sense of home.

I never cared for nature until I met Ivy. She opened my eyes to see the beauty and the joy in many things I had overlooked before. Even now, the simple act of holding her hand had an incredible effect upon me. With women before her, I wasn’t the type to cuddle. With Ivy, our situation didn’t allow for that gentle affection. I visited her in the night while she slept. My cock explored her pussy more times than I could count. My tongue tasted her deep, private places. My hands were well acquainted with every inch of her body.

But this? Walking hand-in-hand together had me blushing like a fucking cartoon. She was awake. She was alive. She was always responsive to me. Sleep couldn’t hold back her reactions while we fucked and made love.

But this? Her thumb rubbed against the back of my hand. I squeezed her fingers, and she looked up at me with the sweetest fucking smile. Her pinky finger curled under my palm like it was tucking into a safe place to hide.

I didn’t have any doubts, but now I knew – I fucking knew – that she was mine. She always had been.

Always would be.

“I’m not a Princess, you know,” she said suddenly.

I turned my curious gaze to her. “No?”

She shook her head. “Don’t let this royal gown fool you. I’m not prissy or fancy. This is my first time wearing makeup in five years.”

“Oh, I know. Your eyes are unrecognizable, and it’s not from the mask. The makeup holds nothing to your pure, untouched beauty. If I lacked self-control, I would have rubbed that lipstick right off.”

She stopped abruptly, hurt in her eyes. “You don’t like it?”

“I like you. I like the version of you that I saw in your application photos. It troubles me if you think you need to cover yourself in makeup in order to be beautiful or worthy of being called my princess.”

“Oh, right. The application photos.” She laughed nervously. “Who sends bare-faced pictures into a matchmaking company?”

“Someone confident in her own skin, as you have every right to be. Not a day went by that I didn’t stare at those photos in appreciation. . . Though, you should second guess your work clothes. Those ugly ass, big ass, fatigues should be burned. Then the ashes burned again and again until there is nothing left. And then whoever designed them should be fined and given a criminal sentence.”

She laughed and ignored my comment. Instead, she resumed walking, swinging our arms forward and back. I used the energy to spin her. I couldn’t stop touching her and moving with her. After a year of being with her while she slept, this liveliness was intoxicating. The energy between us felt electrified. I wanted to hoist her over my shoulder and sprint to the cabin to have my way with her . . . but I was enjoying this innocent intimacy too. This was her first time with me. I wouldn't rush through what was technically our first date.

While she was in school, I listened in on her thoughts. I read her class assignments and various letters from friends and family. This was the first time she shared herself with me. I was oddly humbled by her openness and genuineness. I had never met someone so sweet and sincere before. My desire to claim her as my own grew with every word, look, and touch.

I cleared my throat and spun her. “Well, since we are being honest with one another, I will reveal that you are stealing my heart. It started with your photos and now in your presence, I feel as though a spell has come over me. So, maybe you are an evil witch Queen instead of a Princess?” She stared wide-eyed at me. I smirked beneath my mask and shook my head. “I thought not. Animals love you. Nature is healed in your presence. And even I, a stone cold statue feel alive next to your glow. You are a princess and an angel and so much more.”

Her voice was thick with emotion when she responded, “If that’s true, then you are definitely Prince Charming. No statue could ever romance me the way you do.”

I coughed to cover my laugh. She caught it, however, and looked at me curiously. “If only my friends were here to hear you," I explained. "They think I’m royal, all right, a real Prince Psycho.”

“What? You?! There’s no way.”

“Jealousy, my Princess. Pure envy turned my most loyal friends into heinous fiends.”

“Who could blame them? Your artistry turned a drab rehabber, even a destitute graduate, into a real life Princess. I can see why they’d be jealous. You have wicked powers indeed, my dear Prince.”

I squeezed her hand. “And what if you could transform? Retire from the world of wildlife rehabilitation and live a life of comfortable luxury instead? Would you choose that path if it opened before you?”

“Never," she sighed. "I’ve worked too hard and too long to gain the degrees, the knowledge, the skills, and the connections I have now. The thought of it all going to waste . . . I have no words for how empty and depressing that sounds. Animals have no option. They can’t choose a hospital or find a doctor, you know? Oftentimes mothers find a safe den for their babies, only to have humans intervene and separate them. Wildlife is forced to adapt to the fallout from the choices of mankind no matter how impractical or risky. Someone needs to be on their side. Someone needs to fight for them and be their voice when laws are passed. I can’t sit idly by. For tonight? Sure, but not forever. This is my weekend vacation after years sacrifice and before years of suffering ahead.”

“The big breath before the plunge.”

“Exactly. I love my city, and I love my apartment. It's been home for three years, but I was offered an incredible position with a national park in a different state. I had to dig deep to make the decision to accept and leave everything I've gone to know and love. Choosing to leave breaks my heart, but staying would feel like giving up. I often wonder how the right decision could be so sad. . . But it happens all the time. We have animals come in that the only humane decision is to put them down."

She pulls her hand from mine to hold herself. I stop us and wrap her in my embrace. The last thing I want is for her to feel alone. She can lean on me, and I want her to know I can handle the depths of her feelings.

I squeeze her as I hear the tears in her voice. "Sometimes there is no hope for recovery. Their only option for peace is to end their pain in death. I feel sick saying it, and I sob every time it happens. That's the only reason I doubt myself. I wonder if I can handle emotional toll long term. I try to harden myself like the others--"

"Don't," I interrupt. She leans back and looks up at me. Tears shimmer in her eyes under the mask. "Don't be hard. Be strong. You've endured years of this. Your heart is resilient. You can handle the heartache, and you've proven that time and time again. Don't change. Don't do what others expect or follow their path. Be yourself."

"I tried. If only it didn't hurt so much."

I sighed and leaned my masked forehead against hers for a moment to calm myself. Her softness saved me. The thought of her becoming tough and disconnected left a bitter taste in the back of my throat. She wanted to fight for the vulnerable creatures, and I was going to fight for her.

"It's not fair that the ones who love the most hurt the most. Or that those who save must suffer, but this world needs your kindness. The beautiful princess always faces torment at the hands of the evil queen. The road isn't easy, but she finds her happily every after. I'm sure you will one day too. Especially know that your Prince Charming is here." I winked to lighten the mood.

Her lips lifted in a small, watery smile. "You want to know a secret?"

"Of course." My heart thumped in my chest. I wondered what secret she thought she had kept from me. I tried not to look too eager, but I was intrigued to see what 'secret' she wanted to share with me.

"You have to promise not to judge." She grabbed the lapels of my suit jacket and stared up into my face.

I'm glad my mask hid my smile. "I promise."

She leaned in and whispered so softly I had to lean down toward her. "I have a guardian angel that helps me get through. Every time I have a really bad day, I'll wake up to a feather on my bedside dresser. My doors are locked. The windows are closed and locked. The feathers are from different birds, and they're pristine beautiful specimens. It's like an angel is watching over me, letting me know that the animals that died have gone to their version of heaven or something. I filled a hundred page scrapbook with them." She paused and licked her lips nervously.

"It's, uh, honestly the reason I applied to Tropes and Triggers Matchmaking Media in the first place. I saw the ad but dismissed it, determined to focus on work and graduating instead. Then I had a dream about a Masquerade. When I woke up? There was this most astonishing iridescent feather on the table. It had to be a sign, right? So I applied, and look at us now."

Fuck. Jesus fucking Christ. I struggled to control my breathing and stay calm. I had been leaving the feathers in my desperation to leave some mark of my presence. I had to leave myself in some way for her to find. I had seen her responses over the camera and knew she thought of me as a guardian angel. She had even prayed to me a few times, and I made sure her prayers were answered.

But this? I was the fucking reason she applied to Tropes and Triggers Matchmaking Media? This whole interruption and delay was because I left a feather on the wrong day? I felt as though I had kicked myself in the balls. My stomach was heavy with frustration and internal disgust.

She must have felt my anger boiling because she stepped back. "Are you ok? Did I say something wrong?"

I inhaled and exhaled slowly, closing my eyes and turning from her to continue walking forward. I needed to put that moment behind us. Thankfully, she followed me. "No, you didn't say anything wrong." I had to think of an excuse quickly. What would she believe? "Your words resonated with me deeply. That's all. It's amazing how one small moment can radically alter the course of our lives, for better and for worse, isn't it?" As someone who worked my ass off to be in control and dictate the circumstances of my life, it was a painful reminder that even I had limits. "Do you mind if we change the conversation? This topic took me to a dark memory, and we were having such fun. I don't want to spoil your magical night with my ghosts."

My sweet angel tucked her small hand into mine and squeezed. Her gaze was sympathetic and understanding as she looked up at me. "I don't mind. In fact, I have something that may brighten your mood."

"Oh?"

She smiled sheepishly and looked away. "I've been thinking about it, and talking about it seems like the adult thing to do. But I like you, and uh, once we get to the cabin, I want to sleep with you. We have great physical chemistry, and what just happened, how vulnerable I could be with you and talk about my life . . . that's rare for me. So, if you want to have sex, you should know that you have my consent . . . if you have a condom, of course. I'm not on birth control, and it's been awhile since I was active. Does the cabin have condoms?"

I squeezed her hand, preparing for a fight and ready to stop her if she tried to flee. "No."

"No?" She looked over her shoulder at the estate that was long behind us. I could make out the cabin ahead. "Should we go back?"

"No," I answered again. While I was glad to hear she wanted to sleep with me, I was still fuming at myself for being the reason we were here in the first place instead. If she hadn't applied to TTMM, she could have been my wife by now. Instead she wanted to tell me to wear a condom?

She tugged on my hand and stopped me. "Did I miss something? Do you not want to have sex with me? Am I making an ass of myself right now?!" Her voice rose in pitch with her nerves.

I cupped her jaw and shushed her. "I want you more than anything. I am starved for you, Princess. I need you. You. And I can't have you with a condom."

She frowned and took a small step back from me. I refused to let her hand go and followed her retreat. "Did you hear me? I'm not on birth control. The only way you’ll have me is with a condom. This is non-negotiable."

My blood roared in my ears at the thought of her telling me no. This conversation never should have been happening in the first place. She should have been my wife. She would have been my wife had I not taken my time. If I hadn't been so damned concerned about being gentle with her. . . But my timidity put her at risk. I had to barter away the future of our son to make sure she stayed mine. I made a deal with the devil for her, and it was time she realized who owned her.

She grabbed my wrist with her free hand and forcibly tried to tug herself away from me. I secured her dainty wrists in my grip and snapped, "I already had you with a condom, Ivy, and I'm never fucking wearing one with you again. I promise you that is non-negotiable."