Page 15
Story: The Truth of Our Past
“Don’t feel obligated to take care of me.” Pain radiates from him.
“You Americans are so caught up in what you want, you don’t think about what you need. And today, you need someone to take care of you. I volunteered.” I smile, hoping to put him at ease.
“But you don’t like me.” He tries to put space between us, but I’m not ready for that.
His statement is not true.
With Alec, the heaviness of the past lifts, and I can embrace the fun side of life again.
Being around him, even when he’s upset, gives me hope for happiness.
Instead of trying to explain my complicated emotions, I say something silly. “I’m a part-time artist who doubles as a fairy godmother.” I squeeze my arms around him. “Tell your fairy godmother all your problems, and I’ll make them go away or exact revenge on the devil who deserves a punishment worse than death.” I’m not good at making people laugh but he needs it.
Alec’s body relaxes. He exhales and nestles his head back under my chin. “It’s stupid. I’m being a drama queen.”
“A drama queen would throw a tantrum, not stand catatonic in the rain. Whatever it is, it is not stupid or you would make a joke.”
“You think you got me all figured out, Viking?” His chilly fingers find their way under my shirt and press into my back.
“No. But I’m certain that the Alec I met would not have let naked shower time go by without some inappropriate touching or a dirty joke.” I inch my hips back so my cock doesn’t think this touching is going any further.
“Hmmm.”
Desperate to know what’s on his mind, I decide not to push him. He will tell me if he wants to. It’s dangerous to dig for information about his pain from the past to bond over. Beingthis close to him is playing with fire and I’m asking to get burned alive.
“If you decide to talk about it, I’m a good listener. I have kept a secret or two.” I smile into Alec’s hair as he huffs. His breath tingles against my skin, fanning out everywhere.
“You’re the type who would need to be water boarded before you had a lengthy conversation, let alone divulged secrets.”
I laugh because it’s only a slight exaggeration. We lie in silence, listening to the furnace kick on.
“I don’t remember going outside,” he confesses.
I wait, hoping he’ll say more.
“Madyson thought if she dredged up the past and forced me to see something new, it would somehow help me and change things.” His fingers dig into my back. “Obviously, she was wrong.”
“The past is tricky. We cannot change it, but if we do not heal from it, it can sabotage our future.” The words catch in my throat, and I shove my emotions aside to focus on Alec.
I rub his back in soothing circles but part of me wants to go rip the necklace I gave Madyson off her neck. I don’t need to fear for her heart but the hearts she carelessly breaks.
“Do fairy godmothers get degrees in therapy?”
“Only the best of us.” I find myself intimately rubbing my cheek against his hair.
We lie there, breathing each other in.
Alec’s breathing evens out and he falls asleep clutching me. Eventually, his body relaxes and I ease him onto his own pillow. His long lashes fan over his cheeks, and his face has a cherub quality to it. There are so many interesting layers of this man to know.
I am grateful for the huge walk-in shower that I thought was wasteful when I rented the loft. Lars told me I’m practically stealing from them with how little rent I pay. This would be considered high rent in Stockholm for the small square footage. My one-bedroom loft only has 750 square feet, which is much smaller than I’m used to. But the industrial open floor plan works fine for me. It is odd that I can only access the bathroom through my bedroom, but at least it was easy to warm Alec up.
The rain starts to subside and sleep pulls me under.
A crack of thunder and thrashing wakes me. I’m confused before I realize Alec is moaning as if he’s being hurt. I’m scared to wake him from his nightmare, but I have to do something. Singing a Swedish lullaby always calmed me as a child. My voice is terrible, but the simple melody relaxes him.
He blinks awake with fear in his eyes and it hurts my heart. I remind him of how he got here and ask him if he’s okay. He shakes his head, and when I stretch out my arm as an invitation, he nestles into me.
“Do you want to talk?”
“You Americans are so caught up in what you want, you don’t think about what you need. And today, you need someone to take care of you. I volunteered.” I smile, hoping to put him at ease.
“But you don’t like me.” He tries to put space between us, but I’m not ready for that.
His statement is not true.
With Alec, the heaviness of the past lifts, and I can embrace the fun side of life again.
Being around him, even when he’s upset, gives me hope for happiness.
Instead of trying to explain my complicated emotions, I say something silly. “I’m a part-time artist who doubles as a fairy godmother.” I squeeze my arms around him. “Tell your fairy godmother all your problems, and I’ll make them go away or exact revenge on the devil who deserves a punishment worse than death.” I’m not good at making people laugh but he needs it.
Alec’s body relaxes. He exhales and nestles his head back under my chin. “It’s stupid. I’m being a drama queen.”
“A drama queen would throw a tantrum, not stand catatonic in the rain. Whatever it is, it is not stupid or you would make a joke.”
“You think you got me all figured out, Viking?” His chilly fingers find their way under my shirt and press into my back.
“No. But I’m certain that the Alec I met would not have let naked shower time go by without some inappropriate touching or a dirty joke.” I inch my hips back so my cock doesn’t think this touching is going any further.
“Hmmm.”
Desperate to know what’s on his mind, I decide not to push him. He will tell me if he wants to. It’s dangerous to dig for information about his pain from the past to bond over. Beingthis close to him is playing with fire and I’m asking to get burned alive.
“If you decide to talk about it, I’m a good listener. I have kept a secret or two.” I smile into Alec’s hair as he huffs. His breath tingles against my skin, fanning out everywhere.
“You’re the type who would need to be water boarded before you had a lengthy conversation, let alone divulged secrets.”
I laugh because it’s only a slight exaggeration. We lie in silence, listening to the furnace kick on.
“I don’t remember going outside,” he confesses.
I wait, hoping he’ll say more.
“Madyson thought if she dredged up the past and forced me to see something new, it would somehow help me and change things.” His fingers dig into my back. “Obviously, she was wrong.”
“The past is tricky. We cannot change it, but if we do not heal from it, it can sabotage our future.” The words catch in my throat, and I shove my emotions aside to focus on Alec.
I rub his back in soothing circles but part of me wants to go rip the necklace I gave Madyson off her neck. I don’t need to fear for her heart but the hearts she carelessly breaks.
“Do fairy godmothers get degrees in therapy?”
“Only the best of us.” I find myself intimately rubbing my cheek against his hair.
We lie there, breathing each other in.
Alec’s breathing evens out and he falls asleep clutching me. Eventually, his body relaxes and I ease him onto his own pillow. His long lashes fan over his cheeks, and his face has a cherub quality to it. There are so many interesting layers of this man to know.
I am grateful for the huge walk-in shower that I thought was wasteful when I rented the loft. Lars told me I’m practically stealing from them with how little rent I pay. This would be considered high rent in Stockholm for the small square footage. My one-bedroom loft only has 750 square feet, which is much smaller than I’m used to. But the industrial open floor plan works fine for me. It is odd that I can only access the bathroom through my bedroom, but at least it was easy to warm Alec up.
The rain starts to subside and sleep pulls me under.
A crack of thunder and thrashing wakes me. I’m confused before I realize Alec is moaning as if he’s being hurt. I’m scared to wake him from his nightmare, but I have to do something. Singing a Swedish lullaby always calmed me as a child. My voice is terrible, but the simple melody relaxes him.
He blinks awake with fear in his eyes and it hurts my heart. I remind him of how he got here and ask him if he’s okay. He shakes his head, and when I stretch out my arm as an invitation, he nestles into me.
“Do you want to talk?”
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