I Know

I: THE CLASS Vermilion, Texas 12:37 P.M. Life had never blessed her with the pleasures others were granted. Early childhood began in a low-class format. Constantly moving from one project location to another. Typical only child. Secluded from the world. Mother worked two jobs. Father worked another two to meet ends goals. Both uneducated. Parents lived a life of serving in the fields. Crops. Hard labor is what they knew. He worked the factory and fields while her mother worked a restaurant and fields, (some small barbecue place outside city limits), the outskirts near home. She would walk while dad took the truck to work on heavy machinery. Her life had been about taking the bus, even walking. During her teenage years she grew up lonesome. A few friends albeit, but none she could trust with dark secrets buried deep within her heart and soul. Mind bending, dark torment, skin piercing, bone shattering thoughts. Socially awkward towards most. Boys did not look at her once let alone twice. Even the most anti-social teen boys who were desperate passed on her. Be yourself and accept who you are, that is what mother taught her. An excellent lesson, she once thought, if you have an inch of success, but for her it felt hollow. Father on the other hand would usually say, 'pregnancy is not an option. We will welcome any grandchild, but YOU will find life difficult'. Not in a fun way either. His tone dark and serious. How she longed for at least one boy her age to see her as a young maiden. Fast forward her youth and approach post-high school. Technical college semester one, Danielle Young sat at the technical college in Vermilion. Attempting to acquire an associate’s degree in nursing. Still fresh out of school. First semester underway. On her seat. Surrounded by other students. Cultural diversity. Men, women, some teenagers from the local schools of mixed ages working toward early college credits. Light skin on her body radiating with the luminescence from the lights above. Auburn hair shining like the early sunrise. Length at shoulder. Curly towards the end, from her mother’s side. In her navy jeans. Feet hidden by the traditional black and white converse. Turning her eyes towards the black long sleeve button blouse. Here the other students do not notice either. Nothing new. A few preppy crews hang out beside each other. Some students dressed in scrubs, the traditional attire, possibly worked and are expanding education. Some of the high school students grouped towards the upper left. Dani sits towards the bottom right, signaling her separation. With the room brightened by the ceiling lights. Like an auditorium. There is a few décor around the plain white walls. Perfect illustrations of the human anatomy. A few mannequins depicting the reproductive system. A skeleton to decipher the musculoskeletal area. Painted in red, white, beige among the colors noticed. The instructor ranting about the human body and the cardiovascular system. Talking about blood flow through the heart and arteries. Supplying the body within one heartbeat and retracting the flow in the next. Within that same concept the process of oxygen (inhaled) exchanged within the lungs, filtered for nourishment then sent out as carbon dioxide. Plants around filter the process and the cycle begin (although it is off course, the instructor feels it is necessary to mention it). Dani skimmed through her textbook, flipping a few pages ahead to grasp more of the topic. Intrigued by the heart and vascular system since health class in high school, but never took the initiative to enroll for the extra course and broaden her knowledge. Taking a deep breath then returned her attention to the current page. On the blank space beside the paragraphs she inscribed notes to assist her knowledge. II: THE PRODIGY Class had begun and a few minutes into the lecture he appeared. Handsome like the devil in disguise. A perfect set of black scrubs with a red trim line. Dark hair so luscious it could covet a heart and soul. Only known by reputation as a genius. Already made the Dean’s List multiple events. Apologizing discreetly to the instructor for interrupting, then casually walked (in gentle stride) towards Dani’s direction (almost in slow-motion fashion). The perfect cheekbones and jawline chiseled like the Greek statues. Muscles adamant to remain concealed underneath the fabric of his attire. Feeling victorious at his own ambition. Like time slowing for this perfect devil to proceed through the classroom as if he owned it, or at least the very presence was enough. Like a powerful warlock. The instructor remained indifferent, proceeding with the lecture as the slow-motion walk returns to his regular stride. Running his hand along the slick black hair, gently nudging it sideways to meet his perfect expectation. He sat beside Dani. Scent of musky oak and bourbon invigorating her senses. She glanced back and forth, undoubtedly striking his attention, the way a cat finds a mouse. From her peripheral she finds that smile of his like a calling. A cult chanting her name to lunge forward and present weak to the appearance. Mute. Unable to conjure words for conversation. Her throat constricted by an unknown source. The mind processing words for speech. To speak the word hello or hi, something along those lines. Wincing at her own weakness of becoming fragile. “It’s okay, people usually cannot speak when around me,” he whispers. Her heart sinks towards the bottom of the ocean. Listening to that crisp, clean, thunder striking tone. Like Vodka in the middle of the afternoon during a summer holiday or a weekend. Breathing shakily. Dani turns and smiles. “Mind if we share?” His voice again hitting her like a landslide of rocks from the mountain side. Her eyes meet his gaze. Shocked. Unknowing what to think. His hand raised a finger and points. The book. Dani smiles. “Right,” she whispers, urging her textbook towards the center between them. “Such an angel that you are,” sending a chill down her spine with the perfect melodious notes for words. “There is an event happening on campus grounds tonight. Might you like to join me?” Dani takes a deep breath. Wow, literally, just met this guy and he is asking me out to a school event later. To be fair, she had no intention to attend any school events. She is there to learn. Be firm. Focus on the grades to succeed in the medical field. Yet here he is, the medical prodigy and he is interested in her. HER, a nobody in the school Struggling to make ends meet. Working a part-time job. Smiling only. Not providing a clearance for a yes or no. Looking the other way to avoid more conversation at best. Feeling the glares from other women around. A fever burning within her body. Burning everything. “See you tonight.” His voice one last time as her attention returns to the lecture. Tonight. That word replays. “My name is Trevor.” III: THE STORM A scent of cigar and expensive Italian liquor coupled with musk and a powerful aftershave from Stetson invigorate her sense of smell. Mind blogging. Nerve wrecking. Sweat trickling. Skin boiling as her body practically rages in fire from within. Like a virus, a fever. Everything moved quickly. Like lightning. A blink. A blur. The erotic, handsome lone wolf medical prodigy took a keen interest towards her voice and overall appearance. With the gentle touch to her hair, his fingers swaying around the auburn fibers then intricately scanning her light skin with a gentle sensation only a true gardener could be equipped with such nimble fingers. The room around the pair is dark. Like the shadow of the night. Providing the prowler perfect camouflage to attack his prey. In a trance she glares up at the shadow mist ceiling. Breathing heavily as the same sensation from her skin earlier holds her feet. One hand gently levitating, the other caressing. Feeling the sweet sensation of his hot breath while his nose (gently placed on her ankle) seeks the area above to her knee then recedes again. His moist (warm) lips gliding like the early morning mildew grass blades against the smooth perfect silk skin on her leg. Just a gentle nudge with the inner lip to provide a trickle of moisture from his own mouth. The sensation is like an aftershock. Heart pounding against her chest. Heavy breathing. Lying flat on the bed. Arms beside her. Unwilling to move. Poisoned by thorns from the lustrous prodigy above her. His dark figure like the true prowler of the night. Left leg down, right leg up. He is shirtless, chiseled like the Greek gods of Olympus. Rough tone. Perfectly formed to peak physique. Hair a silk and shiny black like the night life itself. Glistening. While his left hand holds her leg his right constantly runs through it. From her knee towards the sweet rose that awaits to be pollenated. It will soon bloom for him. He finds her slit thigh mesh nightdress nerve wrecking. A nuisance that must become obsolete. Pressing closer towards her flaming body of Texas summer heat. Looming with those deadly eyes. Dropping her leg gently. To her straps spoils the victor. Easily pulling the knot to release any attachment at the shoulder helm. His smooth hands cup the mounds on her body. Feeling the lush of flesh between his fingers and the palm of his hands, like the true landscaper feeling the terrain before planting. The sensation sends another wave of shock down her spine and through the roots leading to her rose. With the air conditioning working overtime in the summer night heat and between the two engaged in their coiled trance, she fears the intensity will be no match. His lips seek her neck as she willingly obeys and moves aside her head. Gentle lips kiss her skin, closing in and sucking wistfully. The feel of his tongue on her skin sending another chill, like the winter chilling wind. His hand on her face brings upon her head to tilt and lock his lips in a passionate fulfillment of nullifying pleasure and dark temptation. As their lips gently lock and twist with their mouths caught in a war of lust. Removing himself from her presence. The anguish of her lips aching for more. Her heart desiring a heavy flow of electricity. Feeling his hand search down. Center fold of her navy-blue night dress tossed aside. A tug on her. The sudden feeling of his gentleman act fading. She lays impatiently, loins burning like a drought through the midland plains. Eyes fixated on the ceiling. Texas thunder rumbles in the distance as a storm wind begins blowing. Whistling the sound of willows through the open cracks of glass, brick and metal. His hand scans her upper thigh. Caressing her perfect hip of gentle skin and muscle. A grip on her lace panty results in a rip of the fabric with ease. A gentle toss results in the torn garment hanging loosely opposite. Folding her legs up, (gripped by his powerful hands), with his peaked arms as they rest under her knees. Her eyes meet his gaze from above while he puts a smile. Dropping her neck and facing the ceiling again as she feels her flower at center of the garden become intricately moist. That sensation. Her eyes roll. Mouth open then shutting respectively. A quick reaction wants her legs to shut but he grips them in place, his hands between the crevices of her inner thighs taking sweet nectar. Relaxing her muscles, she will let him finish. Feeling his tongue swirl. Coveting the exterior petals of the perfect flower. Pollenating. Legs spread apart gently while the handsome landscaper is upon her again. This time preparing to settle the earth for planting. His lips find hers again. Feeling her sweet flower moist then she feels the tip of the pressurized garden house peek through. A forthcoming sensation. Satisfaction. Moist at the surface, but digging deeper to reach the core. Taking away what drought remains inside and protruding the wet tipped garden hose. Penetrating the hollow with the strongest garden tool ever felt. Plowing like a true farmer. Buckling his hips gently. Guiding in and out of the earths core, reaching the surface, then deep down again. Reaching a peak pivot. Providing her the electricity she so long desired from him. She moves her hands towards his firm chest. His hands counter and pin her down. Taken. Gently shifting the tool around to expand the arch around. There must be enough room for the seedling. Damaging what he can to bring down the defenses with every force he can. Her wrists gripped to the point of submission. Arms raised above keeping her underneath the muscular, plow machine armed landscaper. His lips once again lock with hers while her eyes find the ceiling once again and her body is filled with a hurricane generating inside her body. A flash flood raging through the walls below. Like a trapped flood gate. Unable to seek the exit until it does. Nothing stops the storm from raging. His hose ready to release the water trapped inside. The thunder echoes once again, a flash of lightning after and then the storm hits the walls and window. The raging tempest. IV: THE DECEPTION It feels like it happened yesterday. Everything. Sitting in the same spot. In the same classroom. Same instructor lecturing and ranting forward on the same topic. Taking a deep breath. Tapping the pencil between her fingers on the flat surface of her anatomy and physiology textbook. Hoping to spot him again. Expecting that eye candy of a handsome hunk to just burst right through like the last time. Frowning as the class nearly comes to an end again. For the third day in a row. What type of medical prodigy avoids class? On the wall ahead, above the instructor calling out random students to take participation of a topic during class is a wall clock. Almost the end of day for this lecture. Was Trevor avoiding her? He had not messaged her or called her after that night. Not sure how or why, but so drawn to him. To the very thought of his presence amplifies her heart to beat faster. A lady can only hope for some type of closure on the fact. Did he just use her for his own benefit and gain? Is that what he thought of her that night. Just a one-night stand? More thoughts process through her mind. Shaking her head. She looks around the peers, some laugh quietly in their seats. It feels they are laughing at her. As if the topic of the day is Danielle Young, the young woman who let herself be caught in the spider’s web. Trapped and unable to move. Because that is what it felt like. Heart still beating loudly. Breathing taking a step on the speed notch. A rage begins to cloud her judgement. Listening to voices around. Imagining the constant snickering. Laughing. The mockery and abuse. She thought a man would want to be with her. Socially awkward and weird. Taking a deep breath to clear her mind. Whatever the case was, she is here now and not him. Shaking her head. Her eyes send a gaze towards her abdomen. Biting her lower lip. Cursing in silence while placing a hand on her umbilicus. How to explain this next part?