Niko’s Eye

Chapter 36.

"Operation Repo."

Sergio.

Sergio stared at his cellular device, as he sat on the edge of his Tuscan leathered couch, waiting for it to ring.

He had children with his wife but they were not his. He had accepted to raise his wife’s kids because when they met, she was a single mother with two beautiful children. He had always treated them like his own, but deep down inside, he was longing for his own.

Anxiety is normal when there is something important on the line. It’s okay to feel it. All emotions are there to educate you. What is not normal is for that feeling to be there all the time. Some emotions are supposed to be short term guests, others are welcome to stay for the long term.

Although his wife had said, "If you ignore the anxious thoughts as if they were some distant radio and get on with doing things that are right for you, in time they lessen and disappear," he hadn’t even exercised such.

That was because Sergio wasn’t the best at keeping his anxiety under wraps when it came to it. Not that he struggled with it but every time that wave of emotion arose, the current was just too powerful.

He suddenly got up and started to pace the living room.

He felt the need to move almost without end; if his limbs were moving the anxiety was gone, or at least he could ignore it a while. As the palm trees passed with the wind, he could lose himself in nature, much like in a dream. It was only inside walls that he knew it was still there, coursing through his veins as if it hitched a ride on his blood cells.

Wait, why do I have to do all of this waiting? Am I not the mayor of this town?

He then remembered the reason why he had decided to make the call anonymous.

Aisha.

He thought about the times he would surprise her every Valentines day. He didn’t even do the same for his wife.

He cringed at the thought.

When Valentines day came, Sergio always had so much planned. He woke up early and rolled out of bed, moving softly down the stairs to the kitchen. He moved about the kitchen with the kind of smile on his face that couldn’t hide the "love" that warmed him from within. Twenty minutes later he had pancakes, raspberries and freshly squeezed juice on the side. By the time he got upstairs, Aisha was only just stirring. He laid the tray gently on the floor and leaned in for a kiss, feeling a tingle spreading from his lips.

"Darling, I have breakfast. Happy Valentines!" Aisha opened her sleepy eyes and a warm grin spread over her face.

"

Sergio, my love, you are intoxicating in all the right ways." After another whiskery kiss, Sergio set it before her.

"I have a few more surprises after this," Sergio said. Aisha smiled with a mouthful of toast, crumbs decorating her face.

"I hope that it’s too expensive." Sergio chuckled and stroked Aisha’s hair with his hand.

"Yes, my love, very expensive - and a lot of fun I hope."

He snapped out of it and thought of the reality he was facing.

Sergio was taking precautionary measurements against her, just in case there was a nasty surprise or even in cases of identity blockage. He knew that Aisha would ask whoever knew this secret not to tell him the truth if ever he called, so he didn’t want them to know his name.

Smart move.

He still couldn’t believe that she would take his child away from him and then lie about it.

From the eyes of children come the light of the world, yet they need that light reflected back to them by the adults who matured yet kept their own inborn light alive. For children are born for love, to need it as much as air, water and food. We are, after all, a survival of the nurtured species. We need a sense of ’we’ as much as a sense of ’I."

"To make matters worse, she even said she wanted us to have kids and grow old together! Who the f**k does that?" Sergio spat out into the empty crevices of his mansion.

"Have kids and grow old with who?"

Shit.

He slowly turned around to face his wife.

Alejandro.

Alejandro started down at Isis as she slept.

Asleep is only another mode, another way we solve the greatest riddles of our existence, and then sometimes, sometimes, we dream out loud upon a page or movie screen.

As she slept, I saw a thought bubble of storybook-perfect dreams expand into the heavens.

There is a connection between "beauty" and "love," but not in the way advertisers would have us believe. They tout a form of beauty that is merely aesthetic, something that could inspire lust - a thin replica of love based more in desire and conquest. What they claim to bestow they cannot, for real beauty comes from within; and it is only that form of beauty that can make lasting love connections.

True love is a unity of souls, not facial features and products that will be wiped clean away come the evening time. If we truly wish to be happy, to be healthy and grounded, content with who we are, we need to find real beauty in both ourselves and those who share our lives. Finding it begins with a quiet understanding of one other, not demanding perfection but seeking the beauty every person holds within. This girl.

Ever since he met Isis, he discovered that there is beauty here on earth, for eyes born as free and loving souls, for the heart that hears the soft song of the wind as soothing as the sweetest of lullabies. For there are daisies that grow tall and pure upon our earth, reaching upwards in sunshine, blessed by rain, free for all to enjoy. There are the clouds who sail above, creating new art by the moment, naturally evolving from one masterpiece to the next, a perfect picture of time without hands or measure, always onward, more honest than any clock.

This beauty is an ever-present season, yet it feels as a summer, one that remains regardless of all else. It is a beauty asking softly if we are going to "Scarborough Fair," and what will we do when we get there? Will we rediscover simple love and find it dwells within us too, that love is the most magical of mirrors, making not a reflection but a real seed that matters, one capable of growing. This simple beauty of nature is enough to rescue us all, it’s time to believe in the most humble of beautiful miracles.

With her, he discovered that the holy grail of beauty is your heart, from there it radiates outward into all that you are.

Her beauty comes from the cosmos , and not cosmetics.

He smiled when he thought about the way she thought she could have a serious discussion with him, without eating anything.

Clowning around is so underrated, there’s some great brain biochemistry released by such innocent antics and you can get it for free.

Isis was just such a huge clown that it always made him laugh every time he’d think about her antics.

They would be halfway through the discussion and she would start snoring.

Bemused my his thoughts, he let his mind travel.

Almost a year ago, he was fricken Thor on steroids. And now he’s Peter Parker.

He looked at Isis and sighed. He didn’t enjoy life this much. He never knew what it really meant to be alive until he met Isis.

It’s true what they say, laughter is infectious. But you know what? I think love is too. But not in the full on laughter kind of way, but in the steady quiet lifetime of dedication kind of way. That’s how it is with me and Isis. It didn’t arrive slowly though, it was the clap of thunder kind, the kind that slaps you round the face like a wet kipper - kinda rude and shocking. I didn’t expect it. I just wanted to f**k andeave. But once you’ve felt love like that, you can never imagine a life without it. It can’t stay as a thunder clap of course, there is this my past, which I have to de with- but under that everyday monotony, I know the love is still there and it will still be there: warm, cosy and just as real.

His phone rang, it was so loud that Isis began to stir.

"s**t, s**t, shhhh."

His eyes were wide with shock and terror once he had heard what the call was all about.

Pressing the "end call button", he looked up to see Isis wide awake.

"So, did you kill my father?" she asked, face placid.

Dude, come on.

"Your mom has escaped from prison." Alejandro replied, grabbing his car keys.

"And yes, I’m a murderer. But I didn’t kill your father."

"Fill Me."

Isis.

The scent of musk had filled Isis’ nostrils.

He’s always been good at choosing amazing colognes.

Perfumes were all about deep soul connections between those we love and God’s evolved flora, to take one experience of love and marry it to another, to heal us from the inside one invisible stitch at a time. As such they were never expensive to us, yet as priceless as the good health of the natural world.

From the warm tones of his cologne, to those of his voice and well chosen words, he was making her hot. With the sweet aromas blossoming in the air as the candles in her room gave of their warm golden light, her body started to heat up. A feeling that she was well familiar with.

That day, when we went skinny-dipping in the ocean.

There are infinity ways to be a man, as there are infinity ways to be a woman, for all personality traits exist in both. Yet this man had both empathy and a very masculine form of strength, and his bad boy image is something I’ve never really noticed until these past few days. He was divine. I’m not sure how else to say it. It was easy to fall in love and there was no reverse gear.

She had never even noticed his rich accent.

His accent was such a playful tune, as if he were the star of his own movie. I could have sat there all day simply to listen and smile.

Isis was beginning to become a woman. One with wanton needs. She didn’t know whether it was because her freedom came so abruptly without giving her the chance to register it or if this was her way of expressing everything that was inside of her, due to the events that had taken place in her life.

Am I in love with him? Was I ever in love with him?

That was the part of Isis that was missing. The key link. The ability to feel love. Her empathy. Her kindness had wavered.

She had her eyes closed, but she was not asleep. She was revisiting memories. Quite content that they were back, but also afraid of what she might remember. She had become quite accustomed to an uncluttered mind, and now it was so busy that she had no idea where to start. But the thing that dominated her thoughts more, was Alejandro.

Mystery and danger.

She shifted her head towards his pelvis even more and felt him rising. Something inside of her had transcended towards him, and he was feeling it too.

But, all of a sudden, he had gotten up.

Why? Isn’t this what he wants? I want it too. I’ve been through too much to care what happens now. It is what it is.

Isis tugged onto Alejandro’s arm, just as he placed her onto the bed.

Pretence right out the window.

She felt the sudden urge to be loved. To be licked on. To be caressed. To be touched.

Lust. This is it? It’s so powerful. But I want him. I need him. I’m not going to be the little, shy Christian girl anymore. He’s a man, and I know that this is what he wants.

"Make love to me," she whispered, slowly getting up and undressing in front of Alejandro.

Alejandro.

Did it have to take so long just to be able to get to this moment? If this what it had to take, then I’d do it all over again. I can’t do this. I’ve come so far. But God...There is nothing more bewitching than Isis’ naked form. There is something so disarming about seeing her naked. There’s a vulnerability in her eyes I can’t resist.

My eyes travel from her face to her collar bone, delicate in the semi-darkness, then to her breasts. Without lingerie they sit lower, more natural, less close together, each so perfect and moulded to her form. Isis had the breasts of a french actress rather than anything North American television has to offer. The tops caught the semi sunrise, the underneath a soft shadow. It’s not like I’ve never seen this before, but the electricity that runs through my veins every time she’s naked, and in front of me, is something I’ve never experienced.

Isis seductively ran her hand down her front.

Fuck...

He stood there, frozen.

And

then she said, "Alejandro, come close. Run your hands up my bare arms, real slow. Send the electricity I need to jump start my heart. Let your hands cover my skin with your soft lips. To be in your arms is love, safety, and passion too. It is how you bring me back to life, revive what was lost, restore what was shattered. We are born to be loved, to be cherished for who we are, unconditionally. I don’t care if you’re a murderer, or a drug dealer. Everyone’s got s**t right? So though your words are precious, your laughter a remedy, it is the feel of your body that heals. Or perhaps it is all of them combined, perhaps they are more than their sum. Either way, Alejandro, come close. We are mirrors and echoes of one another in so many ways that you are like a brother and a best friend rolled into one. Yet in truth we are s****l soul mates, an innate connection, the strongest bond there can be. You are the only one that can reach inside of me with such ease, stoking my passions, extinguishing storms. Just by knowing you, I become my true self, gaining the strength and confidence I need to let my true colours shine through so brightly."

Alejandro found himself being drawn closer to her, his mind fuzzy and his erection throbbing.

"I love how words weave together and show our deep truths. We say this is body chemistry, it is, and I think for that reason I’m in my element with you, that you bring out my elemental nature, the part of me that is hidden to others. To say that those are puns is a sort of shallow take on it. For me their connection is as poignant as ours, " she whispers short-breathed, before hungrily planting her lips onto his.

One touch and it was over. He felt that same electricity in his skin, hormones shutting down of his higher brain and the rise of his animal self. From there on in it was all passion, intense, intoxicating.

Isis’ skin is amber in the candlelight. The orange glow floods in the room, yet the windows being too high and away from prying eyes. She wore black lace, so soft over her mahogany skin, raven-black curls tumbling to the small of her back. I’m so scared to do this, yet I can’t stop myself. But if anything, I want to go deeper, to be more sensual. Her hand alights on my face, moving down past my collar bone. Already my brain is on fire, she’s my angel, my angel with fingertips of flame.

In these moments she loves me with her eyes has much as her body, our souls mingling in the quiet moments between action and stillness. The cool room already feels warm. Its hard to hold back, to make the moment last. Isn’t it always the way, so caught between the intoxication of the climax and extending a moment we never want to end.

Every kiss had a raw intensity - breathing fast, heart rates faster. Then before he knew how it happened, they were both naked and their skin was moving softly together, like the finest of silk.

In the room that was dawn and shadow, Isis was close enough for Alejandro to breathe in her scent. His arms wrapped around her back and in one gentle pull, their bodies collided. His hands moved into her hair, how he loved the softness, watching it tumble as he released it. Then his hand moved down her cheekbones, back to her lips.

"Isis, I haven’t known you for many years, and still you are the only flame I will ever need. Your fingers are like divine fire for my soul, your voice intoxicating in all the finest of ways. I love you; I always will."

Their bodies fit together as if they were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm. With a laugh, he gently pushed her onto the bed, letting her fall with a soft bounce, onto the mattress. They locked eyes for just a moment, just enough for them to feel safe with one another. Then he started kissing her body, from her toes upward, slowly, his hands on her legs, always just a little higher than the kisses. Isis arched her back in anticipation, knowing where his fingers will soon reach. Her head rocked back against the pillow as he placed his tongue onto her mound, the first moan escaping her lips.

It was all over. There was definitely no reverse gear.