Make Him Bleed or Yearn

16

Diana

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said gently, wiping the dirt from my hand with his handkerchief. His touch was careful.

The shock of seeing him stole the air from my lungs. My mind scrambled to catch up, words hung up in my throat without form.

“What are you doing…” I couldn't finish the sentence before everything turned dark and I collapsed.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on a bed in an unfamiliar room. I pushed myself up slowly, my head pounding as I took in my surroundings. This definitely wasn’t my apartment.

Everything was white and clean, elegant and expensive.

I slid off the bed and wandered around, my bare feet sinking into soft carpet. One door led to another room. I opened it and stopped short.

Instead of a bathroom, I found A walk-in closet.

Rows of tailored shirts, immaculate suits, polished shoes,watches and accessories displayed like museum pieces.

I had always known Melvin was wealthy.

But this, this was another level entirely.

I stepped out to find him standing by the door, once his eyes set on me, his face held relief that I was still in the room.

“I made us dinner” he said quietly.

I followed him into the living room. It was open, framed by floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

At the center of the room, the table was filled with food. It looked less like a meal and more like a feast.

“This is… for me?” I asked, genuinely surprised. For a moment, I wondered if he had hired a chef to do all of this.

“Yes,” he nodded simply.

I lowered myself onto one of the floor cushions, my stomach crying. Only then did I realize how hungry I was. My gaze fell on the crab, it was already cracked open, the hard work done for me.

I began eating at a normal pace, I didn’t want to scare him by eating like a pig irrespective of how hungry I was.

“You knew Lily?” He asked,

I rose my head and froze, of course he would be at the funeral. I never thought he would have time to spare for someone like me.

“Yes”

“How?”

“She helped me in the past, I wouldn’t be where I am now without her” I responded and he smiled.

“She was a good person” he says like he knew me that well. We only spoke a few times and it didn’t last that long to know what type of person I was.

I allowed myself to finish eating before I began asking him the questions I needed to know.

“How did you know her?” I asked dropping my spoon.

“We went to high school together, she was a sweet person” he answered softly.

With the way he spoke about me, I couldn’t help but ask more questions, the high school kid in me wants to know if I had actually stood a chance with him then.

“Was she like a crush?” I teased him and he smiled,

“Yes” he answered.

My jaw dropped in shock, I had to beat my chest to stop the choking feeling that almost followed. He grabbed a glass of water and stretched it to me,

“Thank you” I willingly took it and gulped it down, before I dropped the glass.

he reached over and wiped my lips clean with a napkin. His sudden gesture made me stare.

He sat back down and continued, his voice lower now. “She was someone I could never have.”

“Why?” I asked softly.

“She loved someone else,” he said.

Something inside me slowed, like music dropping into a single, aching note. Even though it was his past. I found myself aching for him in a way I hadn’t expected.

Certain questions crept into my head,

Would my life have been different if I was with him? would I have been been through such an excruciating death.

“I never thought I had a chance,” he went on. “But now I realize I should have fought harder for her instead of giving up.”

I said nothing.

It made me wish I could reach back and twist time into something kinder. I never knew there were people around me who truly cared, people who could have stopped me from making the worst decision of my life.

“Well, enough about her,” he said eventually, standing as he began clearing the plates.

As he moved away, a weird feeling washed over me.

Regret. I wasn’t sure whether it was his or mine.

I decided to ignore it and help him pick up more plates until the table was cleared,

“Let me help with it” I proceeded, to wash the plates, he had already done much for me, the least I could do was this to show my appreciation.

“I can do it” he refused.

“I insist, just let me do something” I pushed further but I couldn’t walk past his enormous body blocking my view, neither did I have the strength to push past him.

The next second, he lifted me by the waist and set me on the counter as if I weighed nothing at all. The suddenness stole my breath. I stared at him, stunned, feeling impossibly small in his grasp.

He raised a hand to my forehead and I instinctively tried to pull away.

“Be still for a minute,” he whispered.

Something in his tone made me stop. I let him touch me, let myself be held there.

“You have a fever,” he said, worry written all over his face.

I couldn’t help it, his touch on my body, the way he took care of me, how he relentlessly pursued me despite saying no a couple of times.

He turned to reach for something in the cabinet but before he could step away, I grabbed his shirt.

He looked down at me, surprised, as my fingers tightened in the fabric, not ready to let him go.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

Instead of answering, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, not a soft kiss that could be mistaken for a peck. Rather a long kiss like I had dying to do that for a long while.

He leaned in reciprocating the kiss, his arms around my thighs, caressing them before he lifted me again, my legs wrapped around his waist as he carried me towards his bedroom.