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Chapter Twenty-three


I pressed the doorbell, waiting quietly. I was at Chris’ apartment door, a peace offering of miniature tarts where held tightly in a paper bag.

I watched the door with anticipation and a hint of worry. What if he doesn’t answer? What if he doesn’t want me here? What if he-


Chris’ familiar voice echoed, breaking my train of thought. I looked up to find Chris standing by the open door, looking straight at me with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

I trembled at the sight of his long dark hair, thin lips, and green eyes. I gulped, realizing that I’d been too angry to realize that I was in a state of withdrawal and need.

“We need to talk,” I finally let out, adjusting my grip on the bag of tarts.

“Does this ‘talk’ involve genital mutilation? If it does I’d rather sit it out,” he said as a smile crawled up my lips. He probably realized that I have been avoiding my drugs. How did he guess? I hid it so well. Well, I assume I do.

“No, just words... and tarts...” I added, handing him the paper bag. He smiled weakly, beckoning me in. My eyes watered at the sight of his sofa, ‘our’ sofa as he used to put it.

I approached it seating on my side, hoping that Chris would come and join me at his end. To my disappointment he took a seat opposite the sofa, observing me as he began to consume the tarts.

Tarts. I thought before chuckling. Chris looked towards me with a startled look, before a light blush crept over his face. He began to wipe his face furiously with the napkin he always seemed to carry around. Tarts were one of the only things Chris consumed with a disorder.

“Chris,” I started, giving him a soft look. Looking at him felt different, more emotionally involved.

“I love you,” I muttered as a sudden feeling of vulnerability took over me. Chris gave me an odd look, like he was trying to decode what I’d just said.

“I mean, not love you like love how you look. I love you like I love you. Damn, this isn’t coming out right,” I groaned, looking for a better way to explain myself.

Clearly, I didn’t have to do any more explaining because Chris crossed the distance between us soon after, before kneeling by the side of the sofa and taking my face in his hands, pulling me into a kiss.

“Finally,” he groaned, kissing the side of my neck before nibbling and licking gently. I shuddered slightly, taking a hold of his shoulders as he continued to kiss me. Love me.

“What do you mean by finally?” I finally got out, still shuddering at his kisses. I was finding it hard to concentrate with Chris set out to kiss every part of me. He kissed my neck, my cheeks, the side of my eyes, and was currently kissing the depression in my collarbone.

“I’ve been hoping for it,” he muttered against my skin, sticking his tongue into the hallow depression of my collar. I let my hands slip into his hair, stroking and caressing it the way he’d always liked.

I suddenly felt a wave of shyness hit me as Chris made to unbutton my long sleeved shirt before getting up and gently pushing me back on the sofa so I was lying down. He straddled me before he continued his quest to caress and kiss me all over.

My cheeks flooded with warmth as he kissed my chest and down my belly. I felt vulnerable, embarrassed and shy at the same time. It reminded me too much of when we went all the way for the first time a year ago. If he noticed how I reacted back then, he’s never used it against me.

“Why?” I asked in a whisper before he covered my mouth with his, kissing deeply and teasing me with his tongue. We sank into each other with throaty moans before Chris broke the kiss to trace out my mouth with his tongue.

“Why what?” he asked, pulling away. His brows creased slightly as he tried to absorb my question.

“Why did you annul our relationship? It wasn’t fair...” I trailed, stopping suddenly. It occurred to me that the fact he was busy touching me right now didn’t exactly mean we were dating again.

“I was tired. All of it didn’t make sense if you didn’t love me. I wanted something solid and less nerve wrecking.” He explained, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered looking up at him. “Are we dating again?” I asked, just to be sure. Chris laughed, laying on top of me before hugging me to himself.

“I was just touching you, what do you think?” he asked, making me sigh in relief. I closed my eyes, letting myself dwell in the smell of Chris’ shampooed hair. I felt my toes curl up in pleasure at the sound of Chris’ human purr as I ran my hand through his long locks.

“Was there anyone else? You know while we were-”

“No, no one,” Chris cut in, tightening his grip on me.

“So you’ve been chaste?” I asked, opening my eyes partly to look at him.

“Chastity calls for the purity of mind, and let me tell you; my mind was not exactly pure during the period...” Chris confessed, making me chuckle.

“So you were celibate for the period?”

“Celibate for the period,” he agreed, yawning as he snuggled into me. We stayed like that until I gave in and started to complain of back pain. And even after that Chris carried me up to his room, laying me gently on his bed before joining me.

“Is something wrong?” I asked when he finally let go of my face.

“No, I just needed time to adapt. Your eyes have bags,” he pointed out. I reached for my eyes with one hand, and eventually sighed, realizing I could do nothing about it.

“I’m sorry I did this to you...” Chris trailed, rubbing my eyes.

“Don’t worry. All can be fixed with a cold spoon,” I said, making Chris chuckle.

I checked him too, realizing my special place at the lower part of his neck was fading back to normal. I hummed, getting back to return the color of the love mark.

We curled up against each other; talking, kissing and eventually making love.

I’ve missed Chris’ calculated kisses and caresses, the order he seemed to apply to everything. With Chris, I always knew what followed certain reactions. I didn’t like surprises and the whole idea was comforting to me.

The small feeling of affection I’d felt before had grown into a whirlpool of something more complex. I felt terribly involved and pleasured when he kissed or looked at me.

I shivered, as he ran his hands over my naked hips before settling on the dimples before my bottom. He loved them, and he’s never failed to tell me. He leaned into my ear and began to mutter poetry related to love and passion. He said my name with such an edge that it made me shiver.

It’s really true that you never appreciate what you have until you lose it.

I was suffering a similar case. Only that I never knew how wonderful it was to hear the utterance of the words ‘I love you’ that Chris repeated like a madman early in our dating. It was so wonderful to listen to that it made me shake involuntarily — made me feel things down my toes.

Only Chris could live with the fact that I might wake up one morning with a dying compulsion to castrate him or plot to make his life miserable if he ever tried to cheat on me. He was okay with it; he said it made me different. Unique.

“It’s perfectly understandable,” he had said, hugging me to himself when I had my first major breakdown in front of him. I knew that it wasn’t understandable, that I had a problem that only he seemed to understand. The whole situation made my heart beat with affection, and something quite new to the equation—


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