Page 39 of The Space Traveller's Lover
FORGETTING
Why is it that, of all the places in this universe where I
could be right now, I’m here with you instead?
“Go away!” Shaillah cries in dismay. She is sitting on the floor, her back firmly pressed against her locked door, shaking her head as if trying to dispel her writhing torment. “Go away!” she repeats over and over, her croaky voice and unyielding tone showing no sign of giving up.
She hears Rothwen’s voice inside her head telling her, there’s no use in fighting it, Shaillah . But she disconnects his frequency and shuts down her transmission. Her stone silence says it all.
“I know you are upset—very upset,” Rothwen admits, sliding down on his back against the door and sitting down, only the thick door panels separating them.
He sets himself up to wait for as long as it takes while checking the steady signals from his stalking lead mothership and lurking Grand Fleet.
Then, he sets all the entangled hyperspace tracking networks on standby.
But he doesn’t have to wait long before he hears her voice and her thoughts again, albeit her tone getting angrier and more despondent as she speaks.
“First, Kuzhma-Or forbids me from the UniverseScope and then from getting into any scouting-craft. And on top of that, you disappear without a word. I’ve lost count of the days before I gave up waiting for you.
I stopped counting after two hundred sunsets.
No one would tell me your whereabouts. Yes, you left me in this room full of fancy gifts and gadgets and this beautiful domed paradise. But that is not what makes me happy.”
“And what does?” he eagerly asks her.
He waits for her answer, but all he hears is a sullen whimper.
“What does?” he insists.
“Being with you!” she exclaims, but then she exhales a drawn-out sigh of regret.
“I had to go for a while to prepare the Grand Fleet’s operations. It was Kuzhma-Or’s order to keep you away so you wouldn’t visit the humans in that turbulent period. But now I’m here to tell you everything is going well. Your island is all finished. You’ll be happy with the changes.”
“Why didn’t you come to see me … before you left?” she asks in a reproaching tone.
“I thought it would be easier that way.”
“Maybe easier for you ...”
“The important thing is that I’m back. Now that it’s all done, you’ll appreciate it better.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“Please open the door, Shaillah.”
Rothwen’s pleading voice makes Shaillah even angrier. “Make me,” she dares him. “You can control me. You rule over me.”
“Never! When this door opens, it will be by your own decision.”
“What difference does it make?” she asks despondently.
“It makes a difference to me. I want to be with the real Shaillah—the one I wanted despite everyone and everything. If you want to be with me, on your own terms, please open the door!”
No sooner than he finishes his clamouring words, Rothwen feels the door moving behind him. He promptly jumps to his feet and readily smiles as the door slides open. But a disgruntled Shaillah is blocking his path, warning him to stay away from her, holding up the palms of her hands.
“Are you happy now?” she says in disdain. “Now you’ve seen me … you can go away. Go away!”
He frowns in disbelief, confronting her scolding gaze, trying to piece together the utter mess in front of him.
Her white tunic hangs in shreds, sticking onto her wet shoulders and legs; caked-up make-up is smeared all over her face; dirt trails cover her body, even tarnishing her diamond necklace. Her oily, tangled hair is all knotted on top of her head in dishevelled matted tresses.
“What have you done to yourself?” Rothwen gently waves his hands in a calming gesture.
But Shaillah scowls at him, pulling her belt strap from her waist and yielding it over her shoulder, threatening to throw it at him.
Rothwen surveys the disorderly room. Jumbled fabrics and jagged broken mirrors lay scattered throughout the aisles.
On the central pool, all kinds of rubbish float along with slashed cushions and ripped pieces of furniture.
Long trails of glowing gemstone shrubs spill from the overturned golden vases.
“Don’t come any closer!” Shaillah warns him harshly.
He can see the wrath burning within her blazing eyes, like a runaway wildfire, ready to ignite anyone who would dare come near. But he walks towards her nevertheless. She backs away with a warning glare, kicking even more rubble into the pool with her bare feet.
“It’s all right, Shaillah. I’m making my way to the balcony to breathe some fresh air,” he calmly says.
As she realises they are reaching the end of the room, she hurls her belt at his face, letting all her anger explode in a howling scream.
But he nimbly grabs the twisting straps and, extending them with both hands, wraps them around her waist, trapping her inside.
In a flash, he is holding her against the wall, grasping both her hands behind her back, pinning her legs with his knees.
She struggles to break free, desperately jolting and writhing as if caught in a tangled net.
“Let me go!” she yells, banging her head against his chest.
Everything turns black, pitch-black inside her head.
Her dizzy altered mind makes her sick to her stomach.
As she starts coughing, Rothwen briefly loosens his grip, and she manages to free her hands.
She hammers him hard on his face, neck, chest and shoulders, waves of fury rolling off her coiled fists.
She rips his uniform apart, tearing open the golden clasps on his vest, renewing her pounding with even more force and rage, lacerating his skin with her split nails.
Rothwen bears it all without flinching. Like a stone wall, he takes everything she throws at him until, eventually, tiredness and frustration overcome her. Her limp pounding head ends up resting on his chest, her sore eyes and throat reminding her of every moment she has spent crying and shouting.
“I hate you. I can’t be with you anymore,” she sobs inconsolably.
Rothwen gently puts his hands on her shoulders, shaking her slightly until he manages to make her look directly at him. Their gazes clash in a sweltering flame, neither of them willing to stifle it.
“Tell me that again tomorrow. And I will leave,” he says, kissing her on her tight-lipped mouth.
Shaillah tries to keep her unforgiving stance, but Rothwen’s poignant words and imploring gaze are making her anger slowly fritter away. Her unyielding stare starts to soften up as she breathes more calmly.
“I see we both failed miserably trying to forget each other.” He chortles.
“Why have you come back?” She asks, her face changing into a frosty expression.
“Why? Why is it that, of all the places in this universe where I could be right now, I’m here with you instead?”
Shaillah closes her eyes and slumps her head on Rothwen’s shoulder while stroking his battered chest as if trying to make it heal even faster.
“Shaillah, look at me! Can’t you see? I’m desperate to …” He holds up her face close to his, their pupils almost touching. “I want to feel you, one more time, many more times. I want to feel … that long-lost sensation, that long-lost sheiren. ”
“ Sheiren , passion, love,” she breathes in deeply. Her whole body shivers as he runs his kisses over her matted hair.
“Your scent will always be like an elixir to me,” he tells her, drawing in the air from her sticky, sweaty neck.
“Do you love me, Rothwen? Do you love me?” She stares intensely at him, her eyes glazed with runaway passion.
“I … I don’t know,” he coldly says, all the while he is unable to conceal the feelings of deep longing for her, flashing through his piercing gaze.
“Right. You are so confused. But by the way you look at me, I can tell that you do. You do!” she whispers, caressing his face.
“I can’t stop thinking about you. But it could be a phase I’m going through. ”
“While you were away, I found out … I can only be myself when I’m with you … Let me love you, Rothwen. I’ll show you what love is. Let me love you.”
“Something rattles my mind. Something crushes my heart when you are not with me,” he confesses.
“Stop trying to be harsh. Stop denying it,” she says, covering his face with kisses.
But Rothwen holds her head in his hands while looking sombrely at her. “I’m too mean for you. My soul hides behind dark clouds, the dark clouds of destruction. I’ll make you suffer. It’ll be easier for you to desist. Desist right now!”
“It’s too late, Rothwen. We’re right in the middle of this storm. We can’t escape. We have to ride it, spin inside its mighty wind, swim around its vortex,” she says, letting her body fall over his chest.
She feels as if disintegrating from within his arms as he undresses her, tearing down the ragged pieces of her tattered tunic.
As she tries to unclip her diamond necklace, Rothwen holds her hands in place.
“No, don’t take it off. Leave it on,” he says, caressing her shoulders.
“I want to be reminded of something you once told me.” He holds the diamond in his hands, scraping off the layer of dirt.
“‘Like this diamond, I am hard to ignore.’”
They hardly feel the shattered glass piercing their skin as they slide down the wall and onto the floor.
They roll over and drag their bodies until they climb on the soft, cushioned covers of the corner bed.
The silky sheets wrap all around them like a smooth, silvery cocoon while the blood and sweat stains trace the lines of their moving bodies.
“I missed you!” he whispers as he wraps his arms around her thin waist.
“I love you, Rothwen! I will love you … forever! Let me save you from your darkest demons.”
She breathes out in ecstasy as her smooth skin glistens against his rippling muscles, their lips finding each other and melting into a long-awaited desperate kiss.
Like a searing flame, their irresistible desire consumes all their senses.
It’s addictive, overpowering, and something they can never fight or escape from.
As their bodies merge into one, the long days of separation, insomnia, and fruitless tribulations suddenly feel wasted, forgettable.