Lost and found

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Summary

There was only one flaw in Micah's approach to the moulding of who we wanted to be. He thought he was in control. It's not that bad, right? An expression that would come to be the centre-piece of Micah Andrews' decision making process. Things don't go as planned. Mostly because he wasn't planning on any of it. He would never forgive himself if he didn't do everything in his power to keep Tarah to himself. You can't just let the single most perfect human being you have ever encountered slip away... They fact that their path's crossed couldn't have been a mere coincidence, that's not how the world works. Surely she was meant to be his, it only made sense. But then again, nothing does. A reality that Micah would come to face multiple times in his search for himself.

Genre:
Humor / Romance
Author:
dawidmsnyders
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
8
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
18+

Habits

September 2016

‘I am not the same person I was last year’. I stumbled into the bathroom, battling to maintain balance as I knelt beside the toilet, leaning on the rim with my head hanging over the water. It smelt horrific, but the stench contributed to the ease of the flow of liquid bursting up through my digestive system and into the bowl below. There was about four or five waves of disgorge until it stopped. My eyes were watering and the acidity of the vomit seared my nasal passage. Sitting down, with support from the jacuzzi sized bathtub, my closed my eyes and my world was in turmoil.

In school, the greater your ability to consume alcohol, the higher you were on the social hierarchy. By university it grows to be a normality, as everyone drinks and no-one really cares as to how much or how often you drink. Thereafter, close attention is paid as to how often you drink and how excessively it is done on these occasions, with labels being attached to those individuals who continues to do as they did in their youth.
At school, it’s impressive and in the real world, it’s alcoholism.

I took the small plastic cylinder from my jean pocket and placed the cap between my teeth, slowly pulling down to remove it. Closing the toilet lid, I carefully tilted the container and gently tapped it on the surface to form a line of powder. I laid down and removed my wallet from my other pocket, opening it and removing my bank card and a $100 bill, using the bank card to gather every bit of powder on the toilet.

I sat up straight, rolling the bank note, which was the same one I always used, up into a compact tube, firmly held it between my fingers and leaned over the toilet edge, placing the one end of the note into my nose and the other on the near end of the line of powder. I inhaled ferociously through my nose as I quickly moved the tube along the line, which disappeared into my nasal cavities.

Laughter erupted outside the bathroom door, “Yeah– yeah, you little bitch!” the voice said and the bathroom door swung open: “Hey pussy, you surviving?” he asked, in anticipation, obviously expecting me to eagerly agree.

“Shut the fuck up,” I ranted, “and give me a beer, or you might just get your ass kicked.”

“You mean licked?” he blurted, awaiting a reaction of laughter or some sort of confirmation that he just made a humorous statement. I looked at him blankly, an expression he knew to read as ‘you are doing severe damage to every cell in my brain.’ He smirked, “There’s the guy I love!” he grabbed my arm and pulled me up, stuffing a can into my hand and shoving me outside.

No eyes were on me as I walked out, everyone was caught up in their own conversations and activities. The odour of cigarettes and booze was impossible to escape as I made my way outside, forcing myself through the crowd of people. Kale was right behind me, winking at almost every girl we passed on the way, some of them standing with other guys, who were looking in disdain as we proceeded. ‘They know us’, I thought to myself, looking back at Kale and forcing a smile he read as: ‘We are the shit.’

Kale was a handsome guy. He was tall with dark hair, which he always kept short and he had hazel brown eyes. His shoulders were broad and from them extended muscular arms, not excessive, but sufficient to ‘impress’ most people. Girls dropped to their knees to get his attention and when, by the luck of the draw, they’ve acquired it, they would drop to their knees once again.

Looks were about as far as it went with him, not to say he wasn’t a cool guy, but that’s all he was: ‘cool’.

“I think she’s fucking pissed at you bro?” he said, trying to raise his voice above the sound level of the music. Which, to me, sounded like it was upwards of 200 000 decibels.

“I doubt it. She still here?”

“It’s her house, dumbass.” he blurted whilst sliding his hand over a girl’s butt cheek.

In my state of severe drunkenness, the thought slipped my mind. It was her house. Which was now used to spend most nights hosting parties where everyone we knew and everyone they sort of knew would get together to, well… do drugs, listen to music and have sex, in that order. We did what felt good and that was enough.

“… and listen, if you’re not tapping that ass sometime tonight, I’m gonna have to figure out a way of containing it, hands on.”

Kale and I had a certain way of speaking that would seem to others as though we immensely disliked one another, but we understood each other, or rather, I understood him. He was simple, he liked booze, sex, drugs and sport. He thought he understood me and to an extent he did, but what he understood was simply one of the personalities I had created to please a world that set superficial standards.

“Fuck off” I mumbled to myself.
It had come out louder than I’d intended, but the deafening sound of techno music prevented Kale from hearing it.

We walked through the glass doors onto the terrace, made of dark tinted oak wood where, naturally, another crowd was standing. I closed the door as Kale recklessly started stumbling through the people. All of whom opted to show a blind eye towards the lack of effort he made to avoid his shoulders colliding with them on his way through.
He wasn’t to be affronted, which also meant that I wasn’t.
Last December he thrashed two idiots who started pushing me around for, as I’ve grown accustomed to, defending Tarah against their comments on how hard they’d smash her. Right before push came to pummel, Kale showed up and voila, problem solved as his ill temperament took charge of the matter.

I dislike conflict and the idea of fighting aggravates me, but considering that they were taking her on, I wasn’t left with much of a choice.

People who believe in problem solving through means of violence are morons. If a problem cannot be resolved with logical reasoning then it is not a problem worth solving. Defence (also self-defence) is a different matter.

Only a fool finds satisfaction in destruction.

§§§

Standing by myself, I contemplated whether I was, in my state of intoxication, physically capable of getting through the crowd. I heard a familiar voice: “You alright big dog?” he said, barely audible, and rested his hand on my shoulder.

“Disregarding the fact that I can’t see straight and that there’s an unceasing sledgehammer in my head, yeah, I’m good.” His face grew to show subtle discontent, merely enough for me to know what he was going to say next: “Kale?”

“I’ve never understood why people ask questions when they know the answer. Is the human need for affirmation that desperate?” I grunted, knowing he would feel no need to dwell on the matter any further. He walked behind me and pushed me through the crowd in the opposite direction of where Tarah and Kale were standing.

As we came to a standstill against the aluminium railing he reached for the beer in my hand, glanced at it and back at me and threw the can into the forest fifteen feet below the terrace. “And I’ve never understood why people feel the need to comply with that which they disagree with.”

“Gotta keep the crowds pleased,” I shrugged, leaning onto the railing and staring into the distance, attempting to focus my vision on a single tree for more than three seconds, in vain.

“Ah, of course, what would you be if not a crowd pleaser?”

“The mob is Rome!” I shouted into the distance. It startled some of the people around me, but I was too drunk to care. “You’re a bitch, you know that, right?” he chuckled, looking at the ocean of faces surrounding us.

“Nathan, of all the personalities I’ve created for myself, I can’t seem to remember one of them being a bitch.” I declared to him, with a hint of sarcasm.

Nathan was more intelligent than most people I’d met. He was witty and his tongue was sharp, like a double-sided razor blade.

“Okay.” he said with a smug look on his face, “Anyway, how’s therapy coming

along?” he asked.

“Same old shit, dude. I don’t know why people study for a decade to sit in a chair, ask meaningless questions, and prescribe some medicine.”

“No argument from my side bro.” he chirped, shifting his eyes from me, back to the landscape below, “Nothing they can fix that drugs can’t.”

“Pills and powder baby, pills and powder.” I declared, taking a cigarette from behind my ear and lighting it with the red zippo I bought back in LA.

I turned around to see what Kale and Tarah were up to, Kale wasn’t hard to spot as he towered above most people and I had come to learn that wherever he was in a place like this, if she was not with me, she’d be with him.

They were on the far side of the terrace, next to the bar, about 60 feet away.

Some girl I recognised from when I was in university was lying on her back, topless, on the bar counter. A group of people gathered around her to take body shots from her belly button.
It seemed like she was enjoying the attention so I didn’t keep track of the circus much longer.

I’d never understood why girls’ value increased the more of their bodies they’re willing to reveal.

My eyes wandered through the crowd of people and, with the exception of Nathan, there was not a single person with whom I would have wanted to start a conversation and most definitely not a conversation with substance.

We avoid meaningful conversation, because we’d prefer not to have our attention drawn to the fact that the majority of what we do on nights like these serves absolutely no purpose. Other than temporary complacency, that is.

I saw Nathan looking at the happenings by the bar, dissatisfied.

“Anything for some extra attention, right?” I gibed. His eyes drifted from the bar and back to me, “People like tits. She’s got it all figured out.”

“People- Like- Tits. Ho-ly shit, it’s just that simple isn’t it?” I threw my hands up into the air, “People like tits!” I yelled, shaking my head. I turned around to see whether Tarah and Kale were still standing where I last saw them. Tarah was still there, surrounded by a group of people, all probably hoping that she would be next to flash her breasts. She wouldn’t, I was quite sure of that.

Kale had made his way around to the front of the counter to have a shot from the stomach of the girl who had not yet ceased her parading.

Tarah was never alone, she couldn’t stand the thought of not having someone to speak to, or merely someone to look at her every now and then. I think that was a big reason for the coming about of our relationship: I liked looking at her and she liked speaking, so really it had always been a win-win.

Nathan saw me staring at her, “Gotta go tend to your lady, bro, or she might just be up next.” he said, nudging me in the ribs with his elbow, he knew she wouldn’t. I turned to him and just tilted my head, signalling an ‘oh well.’
“The things we do…” I mumbled as I started making my way through the masses.

§§§

Tarah noticed that I was on my way and left the group she had been standing with to meet me at the end of my journey. “Hey baby” she said and kissed me, her tongue entangling mine. ‘Never gets old’ I thought to myself as we continued for about five seconds.
There was, undoubtedly, a hint of spite simply to show all the guys around us, who might’ve been interested, that they’ll have to get their fix somewhere else this time round. She was my drug.

I could almost feel the sudden drop in hormonal activity from the people around us. She pulled away and said: “You okay?” her hand slowly sliding from my neck down over my shoulders and along my arm to my hand, which she grasped with her own.

“Are we ever?” she knew it was rhetorical, her eyebrows dropped and she punched me softly on the chest. “Yeah, I’m good, I think most of the shit I drank is now in the drainage of the guest toilet.” I said and kissed her on the forehead.

It was beyond me that after almost a year I could still look at her and be in awe of her beauty. Her eyes were roughly the same colour as mine, a grey-blue mixture, but it depended on what she was wearing. Darker clothes usually meant distinctively blue eyes, almost like the night walkers from Game of Thrones, and lighter colours caused her irises to become a glowing shade of light grey.
Her hair was almost the colour of honey, but it was darker at the roots and as it extended, without a single curl, down to her waist, gradually growing lighter. Though most people wouldn’t believe it, she had never coloured her hair.

Her skin had a light bronze glow and it looked as though she had spent an hour a day in the sun, every day, throughout her whole life up until now, but she hadn’t. She was just naturally perfect.

Her calves were like that of a ballerina, flawlessly toned, leading up to her thighs and her hips. From her hips, there was a gradual inward curve that flowed to her waist, where the circumference was least. From thereon the curve extended outwards again, forming a shape like that of a cosine wave, to her chest and finally her shoulders, which were perfectly symmetrical to her hips.

Every part of her face was smiling at any given moment, radiating an aura of happiness. I was never irritated by how other people looked at her or the armada of guys that attempted to seduce her at every party, or every time she set foot in public. Honestly, if I had to see her for the first time again, I would have been left with no other choice than to react as they did.

Every time I looked at her now was like the first, but better, because she was mine and she wanted to be.

“How’d you get so drunk anyway?” I looked at her with the same expression I did when Kale attempted to be funny in the bathroom.

“Ah, of course,” she snickered.

“And you? How you feeling?” I asked, letting go of her hand and placing both my hands on her neck.

She giggled softly, “I’m perfect” she said, biting her bottom lip and slowly letting it slide from under her teeth, “just a l-i-i-i-i-i-ttle high.”
I smiled, “Ah, as is to be expected.”

“Wel-l-l-l-l-l, it’s really good weed, I can get you some if…”

“Nah, I’m good.” I interrupted her as I dragged my thumbs from the edges of her jaw to the corners of her mouth right to the center of her bottom lip where they met again.

“Blow?” she asked.

I nodded slightly as she shifted my arms away from her face and kissed me on the cheek.

We were at a point in our lives where we wanted to enjoy everything and if you’d enjoy it, that was a sufficient reason for doing it. Things weren’t complicated, though it seemed like it was. When we’re young we don’t realise the simplicity of things. We get so caught up in single moments and so nothing seems insignificant.

§§§

Kale had progressed from taking shots out of the freelance stripper’s stomach, to ferociously making out with her. She was now sitting on the counter, with her legs wrapped around him, the commotion caused by her unclothing saga had now settled down and no-one cared to pay attention to them kissing.

Tarah looked to her right to where the bar was and chuckled for a few seconds then looked back up at me with her enticing smile, which would’ve had most guys instantly erect, but I’d learned to control myself around her, when it was necessary, at least. “One last time?” she hinted.

A slight grin broke out on my face and I slowly nodded, gesturing with my head in the direction of the house. She took hold of my hand and led the way through the crowd, which was much easier for her, as people naturally moved aside when she was moving in a certain direction.

As we ascended the staircase she smiled back at me, slightly squeezing my hand.

I closed her room door behind me and the moment I turned around she slammed my back against the door and pushed her body against mine. She pulled my torso away from the door and curled her left leg around me as her tongue slowly worked its way from my neck up to my ear and over my cheek towards my mouth, where her fingers slowly pulled my lower lip open and her tongue slid in.

Her hands were gently stroking the back of my neck as my hands slid down from the top of her back to enfold her butt cheeks, pulling her lower body against mine.

My fingers found the bottom of her white dress, that fit her body to the utmost perfection, and gradually pulled it upwards. As our lips lost contact I lifted the dress over her head and threw it aside.

My short nails slowly skimmed down the arch of her back and onto the back of her thighs, pulling her upwards, both her legs now folding around my abdomen. As I laid her down on the bed she rolled over so she was now on top. Her hands reached for the top of her back and her off-white lace bra fell onto my stomach.

I never felt the need to look at her body when she revealed it, her eyes had always been more than enough.
I knew I loved her before the first time that I saw all of her, because in that moment, the fact that I could see every inch of her made no difference as to how I felt about her. Her choice to allow me in never increased my affection, it confirmed it.

She loosened my belt, pulled my charcoal coloured jeans down to my ankles and it dropped onto the floor. I curled my left hand around her neck and moved my right hand over her stomach onto her breast, softly squeezing it as I drew her face down to mine. As I began kissing her again, her hand slipped under the material of my black Jockeys, with her teeth gripping my upper lip and gently tugging on it.

Suddenly a banging on the room door erupted, “Micah! You in there?” a voice bellowed.

Tarah sprang up and fell straight on her ass onto the cream carpet at the foot of the bed. I sighed and hastily made my way to the door, opening it an inch, so as to not let whoever was out there see how hard I was. Standing in front of me was Dean, one of Kale’s numerous sidemen, breathing heavily as if he’d just finished a mile sprint. His face looked as though he had just seen a ghost, “Dude, Kale’s threatening to beat the shit out of some guy, something about a girl and the bar and I don’t really know how to stop him and I…” he rambled

Just – don’t get – any blood – on the furniture – or the deck. Alright?” I muttered, interrupting him, knowing exactly what the situation was and that there was no stopping it without my intervening, which was not an option right now.

Without waiting for his response, I groaned: “Now get your ass back down there and make sure he doesn’t kill anyone.” I slammed the door and turned back to the bed.

“Idiots,” I murmured to myself as Tarah said: “Some things never change, baby. Now get back here, before that boner disappears.”

Without replying I threw myself down onto my back.

“I love it when you’re angry,” Tarah whispered into my ear, rolling onto me, “makes me s-o-o-o fucking horny.”

Her teeth softly tugged on my ear lobe and she moved her body down until her face was right above my torso, dragging her tongue along my waistline. She dropped my underwear down to the floor, where my jeans lay. Suddenly she unmounted to the foot of the bed and slowly turned around, her back now facing me as she slowly bent down, pulling her white lace thong down to her ankles, only her head turning back at me, whom was now officially seduced.

She jumped back onto the bed, her hips now aligned with mine and whilst she bent over and started kissing me again her hand made its way back down my chest and waist towards my torso, gently inserting it into her and desperately exhaling.

It was a typical summer night, the heat of the air threatening to choke me with every breath I took. Tarah and I were in her bed, her left leg folded over me. I was always on the right side, the way of sleeping we had grown accustomed to.

Everyone was either gone or passed out somewhere in the house, we didn’t go out again after coming up to the room earlier, but we assumed the party was over as everything had grown silent. No cars, no voices, just us.

“I love you” I murmured, kissing her on the cheek. Words that I had never said to a girl before meeting Tarah and words I’d hoped she would be the only girl to ever hear it.

“I know. I would too, if I were you.” she said, with her head resting on my chest, letting out a subtle giggle. “I love you, baby,” she whispered, kissing me on the cheek, “and I’ll kick your ass if you ever let me go.”

“I know T, I know” I said as I dosed off.

§§§

We were at a point in our lives where we wanted to enjoy everything and if you’d enjoyed it, that was a sufficient reason for doing it. Things weren’t complicated, though it seemed like it was. When we’re young we don’t realise the simplicity of things. We get so caught up in single moments and so nothing seems insignificant.

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