Cyra Must Become a Villain

Chapter Nine

Hindi pa rin makalimutan ni Cyra ang nangyari sa pagitan nila ni Jaycee. Nakahiga siya sa sahig, nakatitig sa kulay-abong kisame. Sa kamay niya’y may isang makapal na tipak ng yelo base mismo sa hulmang naaalala niya sa nahawakan niya sa binata.

She may have a grown body of an 18-year-old, but her mind now was like of 13, the age when teens explore their s****l fantasies, when the topic of s*x both felt like a taboo and a necessity. She never got to question herself like this before but now that she got a reason, it felt like a rush of ecstasy.

She was eyeing the sculpture of ice she made. Every curve, and every bump in the line were taken into careful consideration. Ikinumpara niya ito sa kung anong meron siya.

Wala siyang ideya sa s*x. Kapag nanonood silang dalawa ni Jaycee ng kahit anong romantic movie, at kapag hahantong na roon sa part na naghuhubaran ang mga bida ng damit ay ini-skip nito ang part na iyon. Kapag tinatanong niya ito kung ano iyon at kung anong nangyari ay madalas lang na sinasagot sa kanya nito na, “Bata ka pa.” Kahit pa nasa wastong gulang na talaga siya para malaman iyon.

Tinry niyang idikit ang yelo sa kanya, pero walang nangyari.

She twisted it in a different angle, turned clockwise, and counter. She looked like she was solving it like a basic shape puzzle for toddlers. When troubled, she tried to remember her precious moments with Jaycee, on how his finger was digging into her. What if the finger was actually pretending to be like the stick she’s holding?

Pigil-hininga niya itong sinubukan. At nang maipasok niya na ito sa kanyang sarili ay para siyang bumbilyang ngayon lang narasanang sumindi. Kumaskas ang likuran niya sa sahig, ang tiyan ay numipis mula sa paghila niya nito.

No one taught her how to manuever it. She just figured by replaying their intimate moment in her mind. Na-realize niyang iyong kamay niyang humahawak sa katigasan ni Jaycee noon ay simbolo mismo ng hiyas niya.

And remembering how hard Jaycee was back then had rattled her heart in its ribcage.

May mga impit na tunog na lumalabas sa kanyang bibig. Hindi alam ng kanyang pandama kung saan magpopokus, kung sa lamig ba ng yelong kanyang ipinapasok, o sa parang napupunit niyang mga pader?

Knowing how this stick was symbolizing Jaycee’s flesh, hindi niya maiwasang imaginin ang katawan nito na nakapatong sa kanya. On her current position, she filled the empty space with the vision of him, his hips meeting hers and driving. And now that she knows how his privates look, madali na lang para sa kanya ang punan ito ng kanyang imahinasyon.

Having these thoughts were making her sick and high. Noon ay hindi naman niya ito nararamdaman. Trese anyos siya nang unang dumating ang binata sa kanyang buhay. And Jaycee was twenty, still shocked and absorbed at his problems, on how his simple act of knowing the truth on his little brother had started a revolution, on how he chose to leave it behind to survive.

Cyra had viewed Jaycee as a brother before. More like a friend, an ally. And imagining him naked against her skin felt like a sin.

But Jaycee wasn’t really her brother and the attraction between them was real and inescapable.

She was generating more coldness as she’s about to come. Sa bawat pag-uga ng katawan niya sa malamig na sahig, palayo nang palayo ang paglakbay ng makakapal na niyebeng lumalabas sa katawan niya.

But she wasn’t actually feeling cold. Inside her, the heat was more palpable. And that must explain the amount of ice she’s making. It was her body’s attempt at battling the heat—the heat that it didn’t know where was coming from.

She found herself saying his name as she came. Two syllables rolling and sliding her tongue over and over. She even heard his imagined voices, moaning in her ears, moaning her name. How they both have a letter c in their names was making her smile as she felt like it was a link, how the letter c sounded seductive, his letter j sounded full and strong, and how the r felt rebellious. They match. And she didn’t mind how Jaycee looked older, ano lang ba ang pitong taong agwat? For her, all that matters was that Jaycee was hers.

Her hands fell on the sides after she finished.

Napatingala siyang muli sa itaas.

She knows she would only see the same grey ceiling. But from how she’s feeling now, with the ecstacy still ricocheting on her body, the cold melted water inside her, she’s seeing blue. She swore she could see through it. The blue sky and the birds passing by.

But as she was reveling on the aftermath of her own experimentation, she instinctively covered herself. For whenever she was touching herself, she felt being watched. Kahit pa puro pader lang ang meron dito, kahit pa sigurado siyang walang camera rito, her senses were reporting differently.

Hindi niya alam kung paniniwalaan niya ang sarili o kung iisiping epekto pa rin ito ng matagal niya nang pagkakakulong.