Carpe Diem (Sumettikul's Universe Two)

{4} The Past Comes Back

As my sanity returns, I open my eyes and gaze up into the face of the man I love. Bible’s expression is soft, tender. He strokes his nose against mine, bearing his weight on his elbows, his hands holding mine by the side of my head. Sadly, I suspect that’s so I don’t touch him. He plants a gentle kiss on my lips as he eases himself out of me.

“I’ve missed this,” He breathes.

“Me too,” I whisper.

He takes hold of my chin and kisses me hard. A passionate, beseeching kiss, asking for what? I don’t know. It leaves me breathless.

“Don’t leave me again,” He implores, looking deep into my eyes, his face serious.

“Okay,” I whisper and smile at him. His answering smile is dazzling; relief, elation, and boyish delight combined into one enchanting look that would melt the coldest of hearts. “Thank you for the iPad.”

“You are most welcome, Bui.”

“What’s your favourite song on there?”

“Now that would be telling.” He grins. “Come cook me some food, wench. I’m hungry,” He adds, sitting up suddenly and dragging me with him.

“Wench?” I giggle.

“Wench. Food, now, please.”

“Since you ask so nicely, sir, I’ll get right on to it.”

As I scramble out of bed, I dislodge my pillow, revealing the deflated helicopter balloon underneath.

Bible reaches for it and gazes up at me, puzzled.

“That’s my balloon,” I say, feeling proprietary as I reach for my robe and wrap it round myself. Oh jeez...why did he have to find that?

“In your bed?” He murmurs.

“Yes,” I flush. “It’s been keeping me company.”

“Lucky Charlie Tango,” He says, in surprise.

Yes, I’m sentimental, Sumettikul, because I love you.

“My balloon,” I say again and turn on my heel and head out to the kitchen, leaving him grinning from ear to ear.

Bible and I sit on Us’ Persian rug, eating stir-fry chicken and noodles from white china bowls with chopsticks and sipping chilled white Pinot Grigio. Bible leans against the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him. He’s wearing his pants and his shirt with his just-fucked hair, and that’s all.

The Buena Vista Social Club croons softly in the background from Bible’s iPod.

“This is good,” He says appreciatively as he digs into his food.

I sit cross-legged beside him, eating greedily, beyond hungry, and admire his naked feet.

“I usually do all the cooking. Us isn’t a great cook.”

“Did your mother teach you?”

“Not really,” I scoff. “By the time I was interested in learning; my mom was living with Husband Number Three and Dan, well, he would’ve lived on toast and takeout if it wasn’t for me.”

Bible gazes down at me. “You didn’t stay with your mom?”

“No. Her husband and I, we didn’t get along. And I missed Dan. Her marriage to him didn’t last long. She came to her senses, I think. She never talks about him,” I add quietly. I think that’s a dark part of her life, which we’ve never discussed.

“So you came back to live with your stepfather.”

“Yes.”

“Sounds like you looked after him,” He says softly.