Niko’s Eye

Chapter 38.

"Tease Me."

Isis.

It had been two days since she had flagrantly threw herself at Alejandro. The embarrassment was too much for her to take. She walked around the house with an awkward allure. He had even told her to relax and forget about it. But she kept replaying the occurrence in her head, and not only because she was embarrassed, but because she really enjoyed it and she had wanted him to go all the way. Now she was avoiding him and couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

Isis was in the kitchen chopping tomatoes, when she heard Alejandro pull up in the driveway.

Did she not cover the chopped vegetables in a haste. Washing her hands, and sprinting up the stairs, into her room. She snatched down the covers of her bed and bounced into it, throwing the diver over her, and letting it cover her all the way up to her head.

She huffed slowly as she quietly tried to catch a breath under the covers, waiting to hear Alex’ footsteps.

And as she thought about it, she removed the cover and sat up in bed.

What the f**k am I doing though? At the time the embarrassment was immense, and I could have hid as a child may have, but it was time to own it, make apologies, and show that I was more grown up than all that, that I had inner strength. I can’t keep doing this s**t.

"Isis!"

Hearing Alejandro’s voice getting closer to her room, she dived back underneath the covers at the speed of lighning.

Fuck.

She closed her eyes and cursed herself out.

He knocked about 5 times before letting himself in.

If he were to find me naked, that wouldn’t be anything new to him so why not just stroll right in right?

"Oh, she’s asleep."

She thought he’d just back off and close the door, but she heard him slowly approaching.

She swallowed hard.

He gently removed the cover and kissed her forehead.

"Sweet dreams, Princess."

As soon as he was gone, she emerged from the covers and sat up again.

She thought of Alejandro - her bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks , and heart broke some more. Her eyes became watery and she looked toward the ceiling, her mind falling down into an emotion she was already tired of, "What if all we get is one true love? What if? What if the first is always the strongest?"

This guy is really in love.

The great philosophers spoke of first principles, yet to my way of thought there is only one first principle, love. As the branches of a tree grow from the trunk, all of the ideas for a well functioning society must truly from from love. And this must not be a ruse, the words of the great twisted to make a trap for others and engorge themselves. It can only work when we are truly good, when doing good deeds makes us truly happy within and the opposite brings misery. For when we can do this, intellect, intuition, heart and soul fully tuned into what love is and is not. When this can be put into practice and we create our brains to always refer the logic and intellect to love as first principle, then we are truly the students of philosophy and we will grow wise as those branches spread in liberty.

Lust can be fun - I’m not saying it isn’t – but where does it lead? What is it’s purpose? Everyone I know who prefers lust to love was damaged by someone. They won’t trust anymore and without trust you can’t have love, it just isn’t possible. So yeah, you can hit the internet and have more "partners" than a sailor on shore leave, and you’ll still be lonely inside. Nothing can touch that but a true lover – trustworthy and kind. So don’t give up on love, the real deal, not the hollywood fireworks version. Your love is your best friend, your confidant, your eternal refuge. For if we have a moral compass (and I believe we do) then what else could be true north but true love? I’m no prude, heck no, it’s just that you’re too precious to waste yourself in these shallow ways – dead ends when what you need is a haven for your soul.

As a woman, I enjoy chivalry. I think it is sweet. I’m okay with being "white knighted" because I am secure in my sense of female strength. Men who take care of women, who are protective, make society better. There is a world of difference between patriarchy (a suppressive downwards force) and chivalry (an elevating upwards force). Strong women enjoy having doors opened for them, I know I do. He’s perfectly imperfect. So, why don’t I love him?

She knew that she had to reevaluate herself and put the past behind her.

After the long days of being so alone, the pain ebbed. I thought I would feel the knives in my back forever, the long blades slicing into such sensitive flesh. There were days my brain felt electrocuted, so violently defocused and the pain, the emotional pain, was so all encompassing I simply existed as a matter of will power. They say you come out of these things stronger, and I guess that’s true, but you come out wiser too. I still have my loving heart, I am proud to say. I still have my idealism and courage. I still take forward leaps whether I can see the ground or not. But this heart, it’s not for everyone, it’s not for the ones who threw the knives, forgiven though they are.

Your suffering, your memory of it, is like a teddybear fashioned from glass shards - the tighter you cling to it the deeper it will cut. So perhaps practice putting it down for longer periods of time, noticing when you have picked it up and it slices at your skin. You and it are separate. One day you’ll notice that the bad teddybear is gone, you lost it sometime and never noticed. You will see that your good and noble choices made a better life, something positive, and now you hold a new teddybear, soft and warm, one that brings an inner glow and keeps you cosy under starlight and sunshine alike.

She got up from her bed and made her way to Alejandro’s room.

Alejandro.

A battle starts with the self, and if we lose that there can be a battle with another. A rising escalation of such loses brings the world to war instead of peace. When we take care at the micro level, the macro level takes care if itself.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened when he almost lost control.

Her skin, her breasts...

He clenched his jaws and closed his eyes.

He was just a man.

Only a man.

But.

Inner balance becomes the balance of the world, and those whom win themselves have their personal holy grail, all battles won.

He was sitting on his balcony, as it was the perfect place to be every time he needed to think.

When these boats of nature’s tide, these free sailing sun-kissed branches, come to rest upon either pebbles or golden sands, they sit as kings adoring the seawater view.

The birds flew through the ever developing canvas of the dusk, as if their wings were fine quills, drawing such buoyant hues. Those wings in that sky became the colours of Alejandro’s dreams and whenever he needed a memory to lift him off the ground, they were there.

Her skin was the hue of an English oak in spring rains, and she was this beautiful from the first rays of dawn to the serenade of every starlit night. There was a deep richness to her black skin; a homely vibe that brought to mind fireside reading and the great philosophers. Perhaps that is me seeing my family in her face, transposing their sweetly intellectual humour and ways to her, yet we humans enjoy linking good memories with the prospect new and wonderful friends. It’s how we are.

He decided it was best to go and take a shower, he really needed to cool off. And all that thinking about Isis had gotten him hard. He had to douse the fire with ice.

He fought the urge to go into Isis’ room to check on her, while he had a b***r.

It was bound to be a distaster.

Passing past her room, he speedwalked to his and shut the door behind him.

He didn’t lock it.

Stripping down, he stepped into the shower and let the water rain down on his pain.

Isis.

He closed his eyes.

"It’s too much, I can’t resist her anymore. I can’t do it."

"You don’t have to anymore," Isis whispered.

Where did she appear from and what is she doing in here? I knew I should’ve locked the door.

As soon as he felt Isis’ touch, he was bewitched.

God help me.