But for some reason, that’s all I felt I should give then. Anything else seemed wrong at that point.
After a while, we rejoined the party, and were joyously welcomed into the fray. I think there were at least twenty people in the living room alone. Which is a huge population density for that room. Everyone was dancing, and the lights were dimmed, with the
thumpa
thumpa
of the music pounding with their feet.
“It is very crowded!” Noah shouted over the music.
“It’s like a dance club or something!” I returned, grabbing his hand and leading him through the crowd to find Terra. No doubt she’d be in the middle of all of this.
“Terra!” I called, as soon as I caught sight of her. She turned around, grinning from ear to ear.
“Oh
hey!!!
Are you guys
gonna
join us? I’m so happy!”
Noah and I exchanged glances, and then sort of shimmied from side to side, as our humble dance offering to her.
“Is that all you can do? Try a little harder
guys
! C’mon!” Terra laughed, and then someone else distracted her.
I turned around, and someone jostled me right next to Noah, forcing us tightly together. I swallowed, already feeling the inevitable tweak of attraction my body couldn’t suppress. Which
was not helped by his thin hands on my chest, spread out and making me crazy
. My heartbeat thrummed in my throat, and all throughout my body; he’s just being ruthless now. He is completely aware what he’s doing, and it looks like he’s enjoying it.
So I just let him. I mean
,
I’m not about to say no to him.
It was hot in that room.
So hot that his touch almost burned.
I could feel every place he touched seethe and blaze. When he kissed my neck, I know I let out a weird groan sound, which no one but he heard, due to the loud music.
I really think that’s the purpose of loud music like that. I mean, how else would people get inappropriately close and make inappropriate noises with others around? The music is a clever device to ensure couples can be downright lewd.
I must admit, I fully succumbed to his advances, and allowed myself to run my hands down his back, and lower, pulling him closer to me. (If that was even possible)
We danced and danced, for hours, at least. It was really dark out now.
A sheen
of sweat was across both our brows, and his hair was even blacker because of it.
His lips parted to breathe in deeply, interrupted when I captured them, and kissed him. We broke off, with a mutual need for air, and he looked around at all the people staring at us.
Honestly, I didn’t really notice them when I had him to pay attention to. I just hope no one cared that two dudes were just madly making out.
Meh
. Whatever. It’s my damn house.
“Let’s go back to my room.
”
he said, just loud enough for me to hear.
I nodded, and we made our way there. At this point, two mentalities in my mind were battling. The first was preaching about going too quickly, and that I should be sure both of us were completely ready to make a decision like this.
And
also
, that we couldn’t because I didn’t have… certain…
protections in place.
The second side told me to just go for it anyway, and be wild and blissful in his arms.
However!
Somehow, the first mentality won, just because of the last idea.
“We can’t…” I gasped, between kisses to his
jawline
and neck. “It won’t be safe.”
He arched into me, rising off the bed and accelerating my pulse into overdrive. “This… this is… enough.” Noah whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” I smiled, running my fingers through his hair. Our movements slowed, and he lay beside me, smiling at me. His lips were bright pink, matching the warm pink patches on his cheeks.
“Forever and always.”
“Forever and always.” I repeated, which prompted a huge grin and another kiss.
And so, despite all of my body’s protestations, and urges, and general physical discomfort in my jeans, I did not ravish
him
as I wanted to.
I feel pretty proud of myself. That was some
marvellous
self-restraint, self.
Why thank you.
Although now we have an intense unresolved sexual tension with him.
That we do.
We’re going to have to remedy this soon. Or we’ll explode.
Yup
.
And so went my Friday. Pretty awesome, I must say.
20 Days, 7 February, Saturday
I did go back to my own bed last night. It just seemed advisable after that whole… thing last night. We stayed up pretty late just lying in each others arms, and eventually, when I was certain he was asleep, I went back to my own room.
For some reason, I’m forcing myself to my own bed, even though I hate sleeping alone. It’s weird. I wonder why I’m doing it.
Because I don’t want to let something happen.
Or something.
Last night I had a dream I was walking through a graveyard. I had a bouquet of flowers, and was walking past row upon row of tombstones. Someone was digging nearby.
The way he’s digging, it’s with reckless abandon, like he’s searching for treasure. I
dunno
if it’s relevant, the way he digs. Tombstones were all around him, with people’s names already written.
The more I looked at the guy digging, the more I recognized him. It was that crazy gun-toting guy.
The one with bandages on his face, and the psycho disposition.
He was wearing a long white coat, with a black suit underneath.
I stood at the lip of the grave, careful to avoid the flying dirt. “Excuse me.”
He stopped, and turned around. “What do you want?” His yellow eye glowered up at me. As we were talking, the grave seemed to get deeper of its own accord.
“I was just wondering… who’s grave is this?”
“All theirs.” He pointed up at the litter of tombstones. He continued his work, flinging dirt back in its original arc.
“All at once?”
He threw the shovel up out of the grave, and hefted himself out. “Yep.” After a pause to wipe his hands on his pants, he retrieved a stack of books from a bag nearby. Several papers were sticking out of them, and there were even a few notebooks amongst the paperback books.
With a faint smile, he looked over everything in his arms, and then tossed them into the hole. “I killed all of them. Now to bury the evidence.”
I didn’t even ask what that meant.
He took up the shovel again, and started scooping dirt over the small pile of papers and books in the grave. I noticed another shovel nearby, and grabbed it, carefully placing my bouquet of white roses on a tombstone.
Working together, it only took a few minutes to fill up the hole. We sat back after completing the task, and I wiped some sweat off my brow.
“Thank you.” He smiled, “I appreciate the help.”
“No problem. What’s your name?”
At this, his mouth just quirked into a false smile, and he looked away.
There was a rustle behind us, and he switched to a kneeling position, placing his hands together in prayer. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”
Then, a noise like a cannon sounded out, and he fell forward, blood spurting from the back of his head.
Now, when I was there, I didn’t really react at all. I gathered that he’d just been shot in the head, and was now lying across the grave we just filled, but it didn’t really affect me at all.
I stood up, not even in control now. It suddenly became one of those puppet dreams, where you just do things without thinking. Mindlessly, I dragged all the tombstones next to him, and piled them around him. Then I dragged him on top of them, so that he faced up. (I don’t know where the strength to do that came from.)
As I finished my morbid piling job, I looked around, and saw Tobias standing with two other people in the distance.
Words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them. “Writing is the closest practice to death, and therefore we must be careful what we write, for one day, writing will end up on our tombstone. But the most beautiful writing is found in death, so care must be taken for the one who under the tombstone digs.”
I remember those words specifically.
I took one last look at the man lying there in the middle of all those tombstones, and picked up my roses. As an afterthought, I tossed them onto his chest.
“Goodnight, prophet, sleep well.”
He stared upward, blood trickling down his face. His mouth was slightly agape, and a few stray drops fell into it.
And then I woke up.
What the hell.
I guess that means he’s a prophet or something? Weird. Maybe that’s what I’ll call him from here on out. This’ll be my third dream involving the Prophet.
I wonder if he’s really dead.
I hope not.
But at least I have a name to associate with him now if I ever do see him again.
On a completely unrelated note, I think I’m going to the drug store at some point
tomorrow
to buy that protection we need.
Hehehe
.
19 Days, 8 February, Sunday
So…
The whole ‘buying condoms’ trip did not go as smoothly as I had planned. Somewhere along in the plan, and unexpected component known as ‘teenage girls’ was included.
I walked into the pharmacy, meandering down aisles surreptitiously to avoid other customers. At last, I came down to the condom section, which, for some reason, is located next to the muscle relaxants and wrist braces. This combination did make me chortle a little bit.
Then I became aware of the many different
types
of condoms. How many sensations are
necessary??
And of course, me being indecisive, was stuck there for a while, trying to decide between all the choices.
This is where the teenage girls came in. There were three of them, and they slowed when they saw me, and then stopped when they saw what I was looking at.
And proceeded to giggle.
I could feel my face turning red, and I avoided their giggly faces, pretending to concern myself with the wrist braces.
“Are you trying to decide what kind to buy?” One of them asked.
I couldn’t ignore her, being intentionally rude to ladies is not in my nature. I turned round, and smiled weakly. “
Er
… yeah.”
“Have you ever bought any before?” The middle one asked. I think I’ll refer to them by their position in their little accosting group.
“No.” I answered honestly.
“We can help if you want!” Left said.
“Yeah, what sort of thing are you looking for?” piped up Right.
“
Uhh
?”
“Alright, what does your girlfriend do?”
My face got even redder, if that was possible. “I don’t have a girlfriend…”
“Huh?” Left looked confused, tilting her head to the side. She reminded me of the popular girls in class. “But… I don’t get it.”
“He’s gay, dummy.” Middle said, frowning slightly at her friend’s stupidity.
“Oh!” Left chuckled, “
Eww
.” She made a face at Right, who frowned at her.
“Right,” said Right, “Now, what does your boyfriend do?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Like, what are his hobbies, and what’s he like? That’ll have some effect on what kind you
wanna
buy. Not to mention, it’ll have some effect on what sort of things he’s likely to do with you. But of course, you’ll need to make sure that it fits too.”
Right’s friends were now blushing as much as me.
She continued straight-facedly, “And always remember to buy water-based…” Right went on and on about the whole thing, shoving two boxes, and a bottle into my arms, and writing down a website for me to do research.
“Thanks a lot.” I stammered, taken aback by her raft of knowledge on the subject.
“How did you know all that?” Middle asked, as they walked away.
“My older brother is gay, I know the whole deal and…”
I hurried to the till, and quickly paid, not wanting to look at the clerk.
Then I got the hell out of there.
But at least I got good information. And I have some research to do. I came home and brushed off the whole trip, disguising it under the pretence of just checking my bank account.
Noah didn’t question me, which sort of made me guilty. He’s terrible at sensing lies since he doesn’t lie himself.