What the Heart Wants

Come Undone - 8

Bryan was dumbfounded.

He sat in open-mouthed awe at her new boldness that was quickly fading from unease into insecurity. He had to do something. Now. This was what he’d had in mind, but he had always been the aggressor, seducing a response out of her… he didn’t quite know what to do with this.

Get out of your head Bryan!

What the hell was wrong with him?

How much more clear could she be?

She wanted to make love with him.

Did he truly need a greater invitation?

Bryan was going to fail this test. Wait! When did it become a test?

It had become a test the moment she had found his contact information. Clint was the kind of man who left no room for anyone else. He conquered, demanded, bewitched and scorched. He would never have let her stand there before him alone, wet and wanting. He was the kind of man a woman didn’t recover from, which didn’t explain why Sasha had willingly let him back into her life, when he had voluntarily vacated.

Sasha’s uncertainty was escalating, this had been a bad idea.

This was not Clint.

This was Bryan.

Everything was different.

Even her own mind was not her own, she had never before felt so disembodied… well once. Now, many more than Once.

She smiled wickedly, growing even more brazen at the thought of her lover.

Once, she had watched the man she gave her heart and virtue to choose another over her. Her perfect world had shattered, leaving only jagged mismatched shards of her existence recognizable.

This was NOT Clint.

In NO world could He be able to make this right for her. Clint would NEVER leave her standing this long in this state.

The knock of the door broke the awkward silence permeating the room. As Sasha turned to stomp out a retreat into the bedroom,

Bryan reluctantly turned his questioning gaze to the door.

Exhaustion assaulted her as her hips met the bed, a drowsy spell weaved a quilt of contentment in the familiar room. How many great memories they had in this room, she mused as she lay her cheek on her hand and pulled her feet up into the folds of her robe.

Brian found her huddled into a fetal-shaped ball on the edge of the four-poster beds down comforter. He pulled up the edges to roll her into its soft, warm folds.

As he sat staring at her, he wondered what had prompted the wild torrent of emotions she had exhibited this day. Shrugging, he would figure it out, or she would tell him later… for now she was back and she was here. Where she should be, and he would convince her that whatever was plaguing her was not an issue and that everything would be alright.

This was actually the most peaceful sleep he’d seen her have in a long time, silently grateful as he gently smoothed her wispy curls away from her face. He gently pulled the door shut as he exited… Best not to disturb her.

“Mr. Westley, my fiancé has retired for the night… you will have to make her acquaintance another time.” Brian announced to notify his visitor he had re-entered the room.

Turning to reveal a gilded picture frame in hand, Mr. Westly displayed a guilty smile. “May I assume that this enchanting creature is your illustrious fiancé?” he queried, raising an eyebrow toward the frame still in hand. “You are a lucky man, Mr. Morrison, very lucky indeed.” He intoned casually, replacing the frame.

“Please call me Bryan.”

Turning to appraise Bryan fully, “I look forward to that pleasure, Bryan” he countered. “Did you mention something about a drink?” he asked, unwilling to relinquish the opportunity to learn more about his new neighbor.

The men talked and laughed long into the twilight hours of the morning before an off-guard yawn ended their newly formed comradery.

Clint had to admit, he was slightly saddened by what must follow now. He genuinely liked Bryan Morrison. But in order for he himself to have his heart's desire, Bryan must lose his. And like Bryan as he might... Clint was not willing to relent and give up a prize he had waited 15 years to have the chance to possess.

When Sasha awoke before dawn, she was perplexed by her familiar surroundings, everything seemed oddly in place.

Time to resume her everyday normal life, she thought as she bounded from bed, determined to restore some sense of normalcy.

Donning her running clothes, face freshly scrubbed, hair pulled back in a tight band, she exited the bedroom brushing her teeth.

The apartment was immaculately tidy, bless Bryan. Tiny dust motes swam through the still air in the shafts of sunlight drifting through the curtains, the sky clear and beautiful washed clean from the prior nights storm. The irony of that last thought was not lost on her and she chuckled a little to herself.

Rounding the corner, singularly focused on quieting the rumbling of her stomach… she never raised her head to notice that she wasn’t alone in the apartment. Surfing through the nearly empty fridge, she settled on a hunk of hard cheese and piece of fruit to break her fast and sustain her through the vigorous run she had planned.

So lost in her spiraling maze of thoughts, she ignored the small noises from the guest bath announcing further that she was not home alone. Still absorbed in her increasingly turbulent thoughts, she never heard the flush of the toilet, or the running water of the sink… the click of the light switch, even the opening squeak of the door.

“Need to oil that hinge,” her mind toned in, trying to draw her attention to the shock to come.

The hairs at the base of her neck stood at stark attention, she hadn’t noticed it being super cold this morning… maybe she;d left the fridge open. She spun back to check, balancing her pilfered goodies in one hand the toothbrush in the other.

“Good Morning,” she chimed automatically to the footfalls she could hear, but they didn’t sound quite right… yet she knew them. They were out of place.

She gasped, too late to rescue her mind from the shock it already knew, dropping the fruit, cheese and toothbrush as her jaw went slack and her head continued to shake in refusal of its own volition.

Slowly pivoting, her head continued to quake in denial of what her eyes were seeing, what her senses were screaming to her, who she could smell. Her body continued to tremor from deep within, in rejection or celebration she couldn't be sure.

Her adrenaline was spiking, this could not be happening, he could not be here… her knees began crumbling involuntarily.

“Whoa…” he chuckled, quickening his step to catch her elbows, effectively preventing her from melting into a puddle at his feet. Giving one elbow a little squeeze for reassurance, he set her upright a single reach in distance away from himself. Ever the gentleman.

Sasha was reeling from the assault of his bright green dancing eyes, his clean-shaven jawline… the brisk clean smell of his breath as it tickled those wispy hairs that framed her heart-shaped face.

Clint… was here. His clean naked chest calmly rising & falling a hair's breadth from her nose, the tight muscles clenching and unclenching in his jaw the only betrayal of his show of patience & restraint. The display of tattoos littering his chest alive atop his roiling muscles, ignoring his constant demands of calm.

Widening the distance between them to the proportion of her impossibly huge silver eyes, he set her further from him against the sink and took a measured step back to quiet the escalating panic in her eyes. Still close enough to pounce in case she didn’t breathe soon and chose instead melt into the expensive-looking kitchen flooring, Clint took a weighted breath & tried again.

His smile genuine and never wavering, he watched her beneath hooded lids for an opportune moment to speak.

She was completely spooked. Here in her own kitchen, was the living breathing embodiment of beauty. No longer limited to the vestiges of sleep and unconsciousness, she was completely losing touch with reality.

Sasha felt as if she had awakened to a horrible dream. How could they both exist in one place?

How had this happened?

She had known when she’d left him that she couldn’t just go back and pretend it had never happened. But never in her wildest imagination did she fathom he would appear in her real life.

She hadn’t even had time to figure out how to divulge this new information to Bryan yet. What her intentions were… He had warned her that he wouldn’t let her go or let her get away.

What was that… some sort of obsessive declaration?

Why was her heart trying to escape her chest, in fear or excitement?

My God, What had she done?

Where was Bryan, had he done something irrational, unforgiveable because of her?

As fresh panic dawned, he quelled it by raising both palms and patting the air patiently, to tell her nonverbally to calm down, desist.

“Sasha, Bryan is fine… he ran out to get breakfast, he said the fridge has been a little light since you were away.” He explained, pausing before continuing. “Do you really think I would overstep and intercede where I don’t belong?”

Snatching a deep inhale, she quirked a brow as if to say “Really?”, he laughed aloud because that statement didn’t come out exactly like he’d intended.

“Sassy, I haven’t told Bryan anything. That isn’t my place, unless you say it is.” He finished, palms up in a wordless surrender that did more than the actual words to calm her frazzled state.

“I’m new in the neighborhood to the building and the security guard recommended you guys as a nice young couple to meet and get to know you.” he explained, then added with a heavy sigh.

“ I couldn’t stand the thought of you coming back to him, his life, his arms… his bed.” He left the last hanging in the air between them, braving a quick glance at her quickly warming face. “I know you Sasha. Better than you think… but not better than I know my own self. I can’t live with it. I lied. I can’t be away from you. I never could, last time you didn’t give me a choice… this time,” he paused, looking up from his now outstretched hands to her with beseeching eyes.

“This time, it has to be different. I can’t survive it.” He admitted, letting his head drop into his chest to show her how defeated he truly was in physical evidence as words would never reveal. “I’m just here to help with what has to come next.”

Without hesitation, she was holding him, flying into his arms with such force she felt the wind whoosh out of him and upset her wispy facial bab hair. She waited impatiently for him to enfold her in his strong, capable arms; instead he let her rest there refusing to enclose her before he had made himself completely clear.

Everything was a battle with this one. Everything had a double meaning; nothing would ever be simple again. She mused in conversation with herself.

“Sassy, if I hold you now, I won’t ever let you go from me again.”

“Do you understand?” he asked quietly, waiting for comprehension to dawn in her chaotic eyes. Waiting for the rejection he was sure he would feel when she pulled back from his body, bracing for the revulsion he might see on her face.

Instead, he felt her tighten her grip, gently but firmly pressing her supple body into his to convey her own surrender that she couldn’t get her voice to utter.

“Sasha, there is no secret too great for us to overcome.

NO mistake we cannot right.

No thing that I wouldn’t do for love of you, even walk away if you wish it.” Wrenching his eyes tightly closed, so as not to see the uncertainty he was sure she felt.

“Tell me Sasha, what can I give you?,” the emotion of his words lay bare his own tortured feelings, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist the increasing pressure of Sasha trying to crawl into his skin with him.

Suddenly she stilled. Unmoving from his chest. Sasha reaches up to guide his eyes to her, so he can see how moved his impassioned words have made her, but her display is not enough. Reading him as correctly as always, somehow she knows he must have the words… so that there can be no misunderstanding.

So that later, when the battle intensified… there could be no going back on the deal being brokered in this foreign kitchen between them. They would need no further ceremonies, contracts or confessions to bind them, this would tether their souls.

“Love me, Clint” she whispered, so quietly he could barely believe the words she uttered. Sasha couldn’t believe all that had transpired here in this simple place. She had both gotten and lost her heart's desire. How was it possible to do both in the space of a breath?

“All I have ever wanted was to be yours.”

“I don’t know anything else,” she finished breathlessly, and buried her face against his chest… as his arms slowly enclosed around her tightening to vice strength as his chin came to rest upon her ducked head.

Long moments they lingered, both absorbing the decision they had just made, the first of many they would make together from now on.

Bryan stood for several intensely long moments unnoticed as he watched his new neighbor holding his distraught fiancé. The picture before him caused a red haze to fog his brain and that sinking feeling of impending doom to swell in the pit of his guts. His whole world felt kind of green, off speed, off tilt… not right. Churning, everything was churning to ruin.

The words they murmured between them were too soft to be gleaned, but the actions that he witnessed were not so much distress and comfort as they were longing embraces & forlorn gazes. Alarms, sirens and signals were making mincemeat of his brain…. This could not be happening.

He could not fix this or make it right. There was no righting the unmistakable look of adoration and devotion she had just given him, a look she had never bestowed upon Bryan himself.

Bryan had felt a kinship to this man, an unmistakable magnetism as if he himself were drawn to him… no wonder they both loved the same woman. Not yet crystal clear, but askew things were beginning to align with unnerving clarity. Even though, before this moment, he would have sworn no one could love that woman more than he himself did, he could not refute the truth of the evidence confronting him, here in his own damn kitchen.

This man worshiped her reverently. He could see it in every glance. He would give his life for the pleasure of pleasing her… all of that he could see when they locked eyes.

She was still blissfully unaware of his presence, reveling still in her lover's embrace, but Clint was much too shrewd to miss the appearance of the other player.