"Of course — just let rember where we left off," I touched my heart. "And what I was feeling. In the third and final part of the date, when we went to his place," I smiled. "And grew closer."
Chapter 16: My Favorite Day VI
Nolan’s house was four blocks from the library.
We walked without saying anything, hands intertwined and the flowerpot tucked under his arm. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable — it was just the typical emotional transition between an excited couple.
But inside there was no silence, only the sharp cries of the most sincere emotion.
Inside were two years of waiting, all moving at the sa ti — like when you open a dam and the water doesn’t know which way to flow.
It’s hard to admit, but in that mont I couldn’t even control my breathing, and that irregularity made even happier. I don’t know why, but it did.
Just by being at his side, I experienced what it ans to be alive. That’s why I can’t let him go — because without him, I am nothing.
He took the door handle, opening it with that classic creak of old doors. "It’s been a while since I last brought you ho," he noted, stepping inside. "Only on movie Sundays with nachos and soda."
"And lots of candy," I answered, following him with my head down.
When we went in, he closed the door almost without a sound. The clink made my shoulders tremble, while he drew closer step by step.
"Are you alright?" he asked, looking in the eyes while I got lost in his erald gaze. "I don’t want to pressure you into anything."
I looked around the house, searching for an anchor to reality. An armchair in front of the television, where we had spent nights curled up watching nonsense until falling asleep. I saw his staircase — the one I had never gone up, since he was always downstairs for .
But what proved to most that this was real was his owl clock — one that had frightened the first ti, with its HooHoo every hour.
On its little feet it showed the ti: 12:37.
I brought my gaze back to Nolan, who waited for my answer. I smiled, placing a hand on his chest. "Y-y-yes, I’m sure."
He returned the gesture, stepping forward until his scent was impossible to ignore. His hands — large and strong — held mine for a brief mont, before letting go and guiding them to my sweater.
My body trembled — a normal effect, but one that caught his attention. "Are you sure? We can stop whenever you want."
"C-continue," I said, watching his eyes, which still insisted for more.
His hands found my back — the cold of his touch activated sothing inside , sothing I had been containing beneath layers of white.
Three years since I had known him, denying myself from feeling this. Two years being exactly what I needed to be — controlling every reaction, every temperature, every distance. Two years as the display figurine.
And now I wanted my owner to play with .
He was touching ; my body didn’t know how to respond with the sa elegance with which it responded to everything else.
His hand on my back was manageable. But the one sliding along my waist to my stomach — not entirely.
He brought his face close to mine, giving a kiss that drew a small sound from my nose, while at the sa ti withdrawing his hand from my sweater.
"You were expecting this, weren’t you?" he asked, placing his hand on the back of my neck. "You’re not even wearing your camisole — that’s not a coincidence." With his hand he drew closer and began at my neck, with the sa lips that had just claid mine. "You don’t know how much I had wanted this," he said. "From the first day I saw you, your sweater always called to — it always led toward this."
"N-N-Nolan," I managed to say. "W-w-what do you an?"
"It always slipped off at the most inopportune monts. I tried to be strong and resist, because I love and respect you," he lowered himself slowly. "Thank you — with you I’ll make up for all my needs."
A drop of sweat slid down my temple to my chin and fell like a sphere, landing on his cheek. In that mont he stopped, listening to my breathing, my broken moans, my hesitant eyes.
"I’m sorry," he said, lowering his head. "I’m sorry, Ryne. I didn’t want to hurt you like this," he repeated, taking a step back while lifting his hands from my body. "That’s why I had asked you to wear a shirt. To control myself." He let out a small cry. "I know I’m weak and that’s why I tried to protect you from ."
I watched him: how he hesitated, how he pulled away, how he left . "Nolan," I said, grabbing his hand, placing it around my neck. "Don’t be afraid — I’m not a girl, you can do whatever you want with , even break to your liking." I pressed his fingers against my thin neck. "Play with — I want it rough too."
He looked at while I leaned in to kiss him. He smiled, beginning to squeeze my neck, while his hand began to slide down my stomach to my skirt.
It arrived, touching carefully at first, gradually increasing the tingling. And just like a dam under pressure, the smallest crack is enough to break it.
I don’t know exactly at what mont my knees decided the floor was a better option than staying upright. I only knew I was there — back against the wall, breathing completely out of control, exhausted in a way that had no logical sense.
I touched my skirt and the floor — I was completely drenched, but I couldn’t find a single fragnt, not one shard of the mont.
"What happened," I said, trying to get up, but the tingling between my legs stopped with a spiteful force. "I can’t," I murmured, feeling the tears on my eyelids.
I looked up. Nolan was standing, looking down at from above, with eyes so shadowed I didn’t recognize them. Employee, friend, girlfriend — and none of those antecedents explained those eyes.
His disappointnt.
I looked at the owl clock again — it read 12:39. "Two minutes..." I murmured, feeling my throat break with every syllable.
Nineteen years old. Three years of waiting. And two minutes was all my body endured before giving in.
"Ryne," he said, shifting his expression to one of concern. "Are you alright?"
I didn’t answer right away. I was looking at my hands, my body, the wet floor. To him I’m a disappointnt as the twenty-two-year-old woman I pretend to be.
Nineteen years of age, thirty in ntality and sixteen in body.
I had failed as a woman, but I didn’t want to accept it.
I’M NOT A GIRL...
"But I was protected like one..." I whispered, feeling how my stomach ached — that sensation that appears when I’m useless.
Not in the way I feel when I break a cup or miscalculate a ratio. But in a deeper way, more humiliating — like being a marker with no ink.
"I’m ridiculous," I whispered, more to myself than to him, rembering the two hours he had enjoyed with Dilein the day before. Thinking about how competent and complete she was. "I’m ridiculous, I’m ridiculous."
I kept repeating, thinking about the incredible shape of her body — trained and complete. Comparing it with mine — thin and useless, incapable of pleasing the man I love.
"You’re not," said Nolan, sitting down beside against the sa wall.
"Yes I am," I insisted, covering my face with my knees. "You didn’t even take off your pants. I wasn’t able to give you pleasure — I’m pathetic as a woman."
"Don’t say that, Ryne," he placed his hand on my arm; I pulled away by reflex.
"Don’t touch !" I cried. "Leave... I don’t want you to see like this — I don’t deserve to be by your side for even one more second."
He didn’t respond. He just stayed sitting beside , without moving or speaking.
"You’re impossible," I continued, grateful for how stubborn he could be. "Nolan. I’m not soone who cares about pleasure. I’ve never sought it, but right now I feel like a dried-out marker."
"Ryne..."
"Don’t tell it’s okay," I interrupted. "Because it’s not okay. I wanted to be soone else tonight. I wanted to stop being a girl in your eyes — to be more purple." I looked at my hand — small, thin, delicate. "But not even my body supports that idea."
"That’s not your fault," he said finally.
I didn’t respond — I just kept my head down.
Nolan took my hand.
He held it carefully, with warm hands, saying nothing — letting the silence do what words couldn’t.
And I stayed there rembering that small plant, comparing its situation with mine. With the difference that no one was going to co and water .
"It was a lovely anniversary," said Nolan, resting his head against mine. "We’re still young and have a whole life ahead," he smiled. "We don’t have to rush things — we can do it little by little, or wait until marriage, the way we had planned."
I looked at him, his eyes shining in the only light filtering through a window. "Do you an that? You don’t hate ?"
"I could never hate you," he answered, radiating with those sa eyes that had caused all of this. "Yours are always so sincere. Right now I can see how excited you are."
I smiled, looking at his beautiful profile. "Can I kiss you again?"
"You don’t have to ask," he answered. "Now you can have them whenever you want."
He gave the last kiss of the day before getting up. "You can put your clothes in the washing machine and shower," he had told , picking up his jacket. "I’ll go get sothing to eat — we can still watch a movie, besides, I’m starving."
"Alright, Nolan," I answered, watching him leave. "Get a cucumber salad — no chicken!"
In that mont I was left alone, with only the ticking of the clock. HooHoo I heard, before getting up.
"Feeling useless in the mont you most want to be capable," I told Dr. Roy, with my eyes on the office ceiling. "It’s a very specific pain," I sighed. "I don’t know if you’ve felt it too, but it feels worse than a bucket of cold water."
She nodded at my words. "Ryne..."
Knock knock knock.
The door interrupted her. "Co in," said the doctor.
It was Elena, who upon seeing blushed again. "Oh, R-Ryne, you’re still here."
"What’s the matter, sweetheart? Do you need sothing?"
"I-I wanted to ask your permission to go to the park with my boyfriend," she managed to say. "It’s just that there are only ten minutes left and I didn’t know if you were busy to take ."
"I’m sorry, sweetheart — I’m with Miss Moore right now; I’m not sure you can go alone."
I smiled. "Don’t worry, Hirise," I got up. "We can continue tomorrow — I want to enjoy my anniversary anyway." I passed by Elena, who stirred slightly, but that didn’t stop from wrapping my arms around her. "Enjoy your date, dear — rember what we talked about."
And with those words I left the office, feeling two hearts beating in my direction.
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