Counterpoint

Chapter 71

Alexander

   Jumping on the first plane to Virginia may have been impulsive. The hours leading up to the flight are all a blur. I can only vaguely remember the drive to the airport after throwing several pairs of clothes into a suitcase haphazardly. Every sensation was dulled, all that had remained were my motor skills and eyesight. I only had one thing on my mind, and now that I am here in Virginia I feel whole again. It's rather strange how a separate being from yourself can somehow make you feel like you were never really a person until you met them.

   Thomas is covering his mouth with his hand as he keeps his eyes locked on mine. A lovely tint of pink has washed over his features due to my ministrations. It didn't take long at all to have him keening like this. For the brevity of our relationship I believe we have a better understanding of one another than most spouses. Slender fingers tangle themselves in the loose strands of my hair. I glance up at him through my lashes, he shudders in response. 

   He had been the only thing going through my head for the past couple days. All I could think about was how much I missed him. How long I was going to hold onto him once he stepped back through that door. Wonder in the back of my mind if he had told his family about me, and if I have the right to be upset if he chose not to. He and I both have secrets, just about everyone has a secret, but it is only a matter of time before it all comes tumbling out into the open air. 

   "Alex." He groans into his palm. My name always sounds like a heterogeneous mixture of a prayer and a plea. I wonder if he says it enough times if any divine being will answer his call. His eyes slide shut as his grip tightens on my hair, holding me closer. My eyes flutter slightly as I revel in the sounds of his breath catching in his throat before turning into a sultry sound that taints the air with the crimson stain of sex and passion.

   Thomas has ruined me. I can't imagine ever experiencing these sensations with anyone other than him. All memories of Eliza and I in moments of passion have faded into a shaded, distorted figment, hardly even recognizable as a memory. She had never incited such feelings inside of me. Thomas has created a blaze inside of my heart that is all consuming, Eliza couldn't even muster a spark in comparison. The taste of him washes over my tongue and it takes considerable effort to refrain from purring in contentment. 

   Gentle palms press against my cheeks, gently urging me to put a little distance between our bodies. The comforting color of fresh, fertile earth peers down at me with such gentle affection that my heart falters slightly. Warm skin brushes over my feverish cheeks, the gentle caresses brushing over the sore muscles of my jaw. My eyes flutter as his thumbs continue to graze over my skin with just enough strength to remind me of his claim on me. As if I would ever need a reminder. 

   No words are exchanged between the two of us. No words are necessary in such a tender moment. Even in the afterglow of sex Thomas still thinks of my emotional well being over anything else. He really is a kind man. Thomas told me once that Martha had claimed that his kindness is both what drew him and pushed him away from people. His kindness acting like a flame, attracting the greedy moths and parasites who wish to feed off of his compassion. It is a blessing and a curse, guiding him to help those who need it while also being thrown into the paths of toxic individuals who simply yearn for his validation. Sometimes I wonder which of these categories I would fit under.

   "You're thinking too much, again." 

   "Sorry."  

   "I wasn't looking for an apology." My eyes close as the warmth of his hands migrate down to my chin, cupping my face in his palms. "Your mind running in overdrive is just how you learned to perceive the world around you. I don't ever want you to apologize for thinking." I peek up at him through my lashes and see him smiling down at me, patiently waiting for me to meet his gaze.

   "I missed you." I murmur softly. 

   "You said that before." He teases lightly, his fingertips dancing lightly over the curves of my lips. " I missed you too. It was quite a surprise to find you outside my door." He chuckles. "The love tackle was greatly appreciated." My lips curl into a small smile as I look into those eyes that I have come to adore rather ardently. There is such a pleasant glow residing in his eyes, a small sun has taken up residence in the galaxy of his iris. My chest tightens as I consider the possibility of that light extinguishing after he discovers the truth about Eliza and the arrangement we made.

   "Would you ever hate me?" The words tumble past my lips without thought. His eyes widen for a moment before narrowing slightly as he looks at me with a quizzical expression. My lips part slightly as his hold on my face tightens slightly.

   "That is a rather odd question, Alexander." He replies slowly, his words carefully selected and articulated. "Why would you ask such a question." 

   "I don't know." I murmur in response, averting my gaze for a brief moment.

   "I think you do." He presses, a firm line forming between his brows as he stares at me with tense expectation. "Feeling guilty, Alexander?"

   My heart feels as if it is attempting to beat its way out of my chest. I had wondered when the right time to tell him the truth would be, but now that an opportunity has presented itself I find myself to be rather frightened by the prospect. My mouth has become a desert as he holds my face prisoner between his hands. His eyes pinning me into place like sabers piercing into my soul.

   "No."

   "Are you certain of that?" He questions suspiciously.

   "Yes."  He releases his hold on my face, his lips set into a firm line. The gentle expression has melted away into one of skeptical suspicion as he regards me closely. He doesn't say anything as he looks away from me. It would appear that for the time being he is allowing me to escape this particular line of conversation. My conscience kicks at the back door of my rational mind making my chest ache from the dread of knowing that the truth will have to come out sooner than I would like it to.

   "I believe you." He condescends. I say nothing in response as I struggle to fight back the bile in the back of my throat. I truly am a monster, it would seem that I have found my category in his life. It is only a matter of time now to see if he decides to allow me to remain in the glow of his flame, or reduce me to ash with his rage and heartbreak. The countdown has begun.