lean closer
1288 Words
CHAPTER 4 LEAN CLOSER
I lean in closer to the glass, gently pressing my lips against the cool surface, kissing him goodnight from a distance.
I take one final look at my angel and move away from the window.
Glancing into the living room one last time, I see Lucky is still in the same position.
There has got to be a good reason he’d want to live with Cavil Rays.
The only conclusion I can draw from what I’ve seen is that he’s there out of sheer desperation.
I make my way down the fire escape.
When I get to the bottom, I grab the ladder and push it back up.
We wouldn’t want any creeps trying to sneak a peek now, would we?
I feel a wicked smile on my face as I turn from the building and make my way back to my car.
I’m living on the other side of downtown at the moment, in a warehouse.
I like to move around a lot to keep hidden from any enemies who might try to find me.
The people who need me for jobs know exactly how to get in touch with me.
There’s an old bar on the East Side.
An old guy named Sal works behind the bar.
If you go in with my name and a piece of paper, he’ll get it to me.
I used to run jobs for Sal back in the day, and he’s about the only person I can trust.
I think back to my childhood on the streets and shake my head. No time to dwell on the past.
Getting behind the wheel of my Camaro, I think of my Cavil Rays. I’ve got to go home and get a few hours of sleep. I plan on introducing myself to my love tomorrow. His fate has been set. He’s mine now.
Cavil Rays
“Are you going to eat that?” The breakfast burrito pauses halfway to my mouth as I glance at Lucky across the counter in the kitchen.
He’s got his eyes trained on his phone as he hurriedly types away at a speed that seems almost impossible.
If only he could work that fast on the computer at work, maybe I wouldn’t have to help him out so much.
Who he could possibly be texting this early on a Thursday morning, I have no idea, but as always that thing is glued to his hand.
“What’s wrong with it?” I look down at my breakfast burrito. It’s nothing fancy, but it will hit the spot. I popped it in the microwave, and it will mostly keep me full until lunch.
I tend to get grumpy when I go without food, and being in customer service, grumpy doesn't bode well.
Lucky just said, “It’s fattening.” I look past him to the container of melted ice cream that he went all out to buy last night and which is still sitting on the coffee table.
The thing is, Lucky and I can eat and eat and eat and we will still be rail thin.
I wasn’t blessed with fattening gene, I've always wanted to add a few pounds so that I could stop looking like a teen, I'm already twenty two and I have no muscles to show but I’d long ago given up caring what I ate.
No diet on earth seemed to work, and I didn’t have the energy to worry about it anymore.
Not like I was dating.
No one was going to be seeing me naked, so I might as well enjoy the burrito.
It would probably be the most orgasmic thing I’d experience today.
I go to take my first bite, and Lucky makes a disgusted noise. I clench my jaw, and embarrassment hits my cheeks. I can feel the blood rush to my face, making my fair skin light up. I’m not great at hiding my feelings.
Everything’s always on display for everyone to see. I might not want to diet, but it still hurts when someone calls you out on your body shape.
With his one sound, my appetite is gone.
Maybe that’s the key to a successful muscle building. Always try to eat with Lucky in the room.
You’ll be a stick thin in a month and your muscles will automatically show, I'm sure for me it won't be my muscles but my bones.
I drop the burrito onto the counter and move past him towards my bedroom to get ready for work.
I mumbled, upset he got the better of me, that I’d be ready in a second.
I thought I got over those silly things like my pacs and muscles a long time ago, but it seems to be rearing its ugly head at me lately.
This might have something to do with Lucky, but my grandma always told me when someone pokes at you, it’s usually their own insecurities showing.
That makes me feel bad for Lucky. I think a lot of his comments have more to do with his current man than me.
Why did I ever agree to let him move in here?
Rent, I remind myself. Also I’m a sucker for a sob story, and I’ve been lonely since my grandma passed.
I thought at least having someone around would help push those feelings away, but now three months of living with Lucky and I’m not so sure if it was the right decision I made.
Lucky isn’t the best for conversation. Oh, he can ramble on and on, but he seems to have this way of making me feel like s**t about myself.
When he came to me about needing a place to stay, saying that his boyfriend was kicking him out, I felt bad for him.
I knew what it was like to feel alone, and I didn’t want anyone else to have that feeling.
Little did I know he’s never alone, what with the trail of men always following him.
Lately, though, I’ve noticed many don’t stay for long, and I don’t think it’s because he’s asking them to leave.
His sob story got to me, and plus, I needed the help with rent. I’ve lived in this apartment for as long as I can remember. My grandma raised me here, and I never knew my parents.
Over the years, I finally got the story of my parents out of my grandma. She said she had no idea who my father was, and my mother just kind of dropped me off one day and never came back.
It stung a little to hear that, but I’m thankful enough to be happy that at least my mother had the decency to give me to someone who cared.
When Grandma got sick while I was in my last year of high school, we knew it wasn’t a battle she was going to win. She fought hard, but cancer took her from me nine months ago after her body finally gave out. I’d put off going to work for awhile to be by her side, wanting to have every moment I could with her before the last piece of family I’d ever had slipped through my fingers.
As she grew sicker and sicker I seemed to become more disconnected with the outside world. I started working again after she persisted I should.
I went from work to home, home to work. Nothing in between. One by one, my friends started to trickle off.
After she passed away, I looked around and it was then I saw how alone I really was.
I wouldn’t change the choices I made, though. I’ll cherish every moment I spent with my grandma.
- Writer
