LOGIC: A SHORT STORY [h.s au]

part three

*sexual content and brief mention of blood

Their strangeness stretched and molded into a certain odd sweetness.

Harry had never been so frightened and delighted by a human being—Daisy Montgomery. She eluded his mind, like she was something of an undiscovered species from a foreign planet. He couldn't wrap his mind around her, couldn't pin down exactly what she was. But he did know that he was enamored by her, wholly and completely.

She made him feel okay about tapping into the dark corners of his mind, the places that harbored depravities, the places that didn't fit into the perfect little boxes that he loved to categorize everything in.

They spent the entire first day there fucking and nothing else, besides the few trips down to the kitchen for some food. He took her again in her parents bed and then in their shower. And then again on her childhood bed. The entirety of the townhouse was humid with the smell of sex and the burnt toast Daisy made. They laid around, languid and sweaty, sharing deep kisses and hungry stares until they passed out on top of the frilly pink duvet of her bed and didn't wake until the sun was shining through the curtains.

Harry woke up, naked, an arm draped over Daisy, and hard as a rock. He was surprised by that, with all of the sex they had the day before. He didn't know how he could possibly want more, but he did. It was carnal. Animalistic, even. He couldn't pinpoint it, which bothered him tremendously, but he succumbed to it—to the craze for Daisy that coursed through him like a fast-moving disease.

He untangled himself from Daisy, who was laying there with just black cotton underwear and nothing else. He gazed at her utter perfection, the way the light from the window touched her spotless skin making her look almost angelic. If he didn't know her penchant for deviance, he'd maybe believe that she was laid there by angels themselves.

Harry peed and brushed his teeth and tried to think of anything else besides Daisy, but found it almost impossible. She truly had invaded his mind and taken control of it. He was hardwired for her and only her.

So he walked downstairs and found some stale organic cereal in the cupboard and ate it dry as there was no milk, not even oat or almond. He thought about how he should feel bad about doing this to Elena, but when his mind was on her, he felt nothing but the hollowness in his chest cavity.

Everyone who knew them expected him to propose to her soon—not because they were madly in love but because it's what you do when you've been with someone for that long. He shuddered thinking about a soulless marriage with her, how every day would be an endless barrage of mundanity.

Now that he'd tasted the freedom, caved to his desires, he wasn't sure what he wanted anymore.

The uniformity of his life always brought him a sense of inner peace, something reliable to lean on, nothing messy or out of line. But now, with Daisy, he saw the allure of spontaneity on the horizon.

He didn't know how long he lingered in the kitchen, but eventually down came Daisy, silk robe tired around her otherwise naked body. Her nipples poked through the thin material and Harry had to avert his gaze from them before he got fully hard.

"Morning, Dais," he chimed.

He'd never seen someone look so exceptional in the morning—almost pure. Except he knew her truth. He knew she was far from pure.

"Good morning," she said, gliding around the kitchen, opening cabinets. The silken robe flitted about, almost revealing her plump ass as she bent over.

The craving for her overtook him, yet again. As she skirted past him, he held him arm out to stop her. He pressed against her, knocking her into the counter with a swiftness that fed off carnal desire.