I have been suffering from writers block lately. In order to get over that, I decided to go back. Back to the beginning of Chryed. So this is my version of how it all started. It's the night before the first kiss, and Syed can't seem to get any sleep...
~s~c~
Eight minutes past 4. The red digits of the alarm clock seem to be mocking me. With a groan, I close my eyes. I try to relax, knowing that that is the only way I'm ever going to get any sleep. I've been lying here, wide awake, since I got to bed just before midnight. Wanted to get a good nights sleep. Wanted to be fit and rested for the big function. With a frustrated growl, I flip on my back and stare at the ceiling.
This is great. Just what I need. Absolutely no sleep for three nights now. I've told myself it's the heat. I've told myself it's Amira. Mum and Amira. Dad and Amira. I haven't been able to convince myself though. I know what this sudden insomnia is about. It's about him. Christian.
When I close my eyes, he is there. I see him as he was this morning. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Hot. Tanned skin, eyes hidden behind a pair of dark shades and that ridiculously tacky gold chain around his neck. Tight fitting jeans and a brown vest, arms on show. Apparently I like that. Apparently I like that a lot.
I've been feeling confused. Like I don't know myself anymore. Don't know what I want, what I am, how I feel or who I am. Yes, I've felt attracted to men before. But not like this. Never like this. This constant need to see him, be near him, talk to him, talk about him or even just speak his name. I need anything. I want everything. But I promised myself that part of my life was over. Swore I would leave it behind if my parents ever invited me back into their lives. And now they have. I can't do something that could potentially compromise my relationship with them. I won't.
So here I am. Infatuated with that man since the first time I laid eyes on him. I can hardly remember it, but I know I made a fool of myself. Mumbling something stupid and wearing that monstrous hat. I saw him, and felt a tiny stir of butterflies. I shook his hand, and the butterflies went nuts.
The best thing to do would have been to stay away. Ignore this man, repress these feelings. So I tried. I tried, and I failed. It wasn't all my fault. I couldn't stay away from him completely, we had to work together. But I guess I didn't have to hang on his every word. And perhaps there was no need to watch him all day long. Laughing at his jokes, being friendly, getting him coffee, drink in the very sight of him. But I just can't seem to help myself. I'm like a schoolgirl with a crush.
I don't know how this happened. Finding Amira was supposed to solve everything. She was supposed to be my answer to all questions. No one would suspect me of lusting after men, when I had her on my arm. Men would envy me. My family would be proud of me. And I would be happy, because I found myself the perfect girlfriend. We would get married, have children, be this perfect little family. Meanwhile, I would work my fingers to the bone, working my way up in the world, until I was a huge success. And then I would have everything. There would be no need for anything else. Because I'ld already have everything.
I was so sure that it would be enough. I would be loved. I would be respected. But now… I'm just not sure anymore. The way Amira has interacted with my family has disappointed me. The way I feel about her has disappointed me. She fits the picture perfectly. She's beautiful, comes from a well respected family, she has class and she makes me laugh. I like her. I was sure that that would be enough. That my feelings would grow, develop into something more. But it hasn't. I'm not attracted to her. Kissing her, feels like kissing a good friend. Touching her, feels like touching my sister. It's nice. And truth be told, it was enough. It was enough, until I saw him.
Amira. When I think of her, my lips form into a fond smile. When she takes my arm, it gives me a warm, comfortable feeling. When she looks to me for support, I want to take care of her. When she's looking particularly pretty, I want to take her hand, and show her off to the world. Do you see her? That's my girlfriend! She makes me feel proud. Protective. Confident. Needed. I like the person I am when I'm with her. And I like the looks people give me, when she's standing beside me. Like I'm important. Someone to be envied. Like I matter.
Christian. I feel betrayed by my own body every time I'm near him. When we're working together at the unit, I am drawn to him. I keep finding an excuse to 'accidently' touch him. Brushing against him while reaching for some ingredient. Grabbing for a knife at the same time he is, so our hands touch. Turning around suddenly, in the hopes of bumping into him. He must think me a clumsy fool. But I don't care. All I care about, is that tingling feeling that rushes over me, every time I feel his touch.
Christian. He has no idea. He thinks we are becoming friends. He talks to me, laughs with me, touches me. Touches me like he touches everyone. It doesn't mean anything to him, I realize that. He doesn't know, that all I want, is for him to claim me. To shove me up against that damn fridge and kiss me until my lips are bruised. I want him to rip off my clothes and…
No. No no no no no. No. I summon up every bit of willpower I have left, and try and force an end to this train of thought. I won't go there. I can't. My body is so flushed right now, I can't bare the touch of the sheet that is covering me. I shove it down, and welcome the slightly cooler air on my heated skin. I concentrate on breathing, forcing my breath, my heart, my body, to calm down.
This cannot go on. I can't live like this. It was bad enough before. Watching him, knowing he would never be mine. I would see him with some bloke, flirting, and my jealousy would be suffocating. Wanting it to be me. Longing for him to look at me that way. Pining for him to touch me like that. But difficult though it was, I could handle it. Knowing it meant nothing, just a flirt, a one night stand, here today, gone tomorrow. But now there's this… James…
James scares me. He is no one night stand. They've known each other for years. And Christian cares about him. I can tell. The thought of Christian with him, James, started this frustrating insomnia. And even though it seems that nothing happened, I am not at all appeased by this. Because who can resist Christian for long? When he puts the charm on, he attacks the senses. I've seen him do it. And when they get together (that's when, not if) it will not be for a fling. And this is what is killing me. What is keeping me awake. The flings, I can live with. The flirting, I can suffer through. But to see Christian in love? To see him fall in love with anyone other that me? I really don't think I can take it. But what choice do I have?
I glance at the alarm clock. It's almost 5. I decide to give up on sleep for now and get up. Quietly, I make my way to the bathroom for a very long shower. I lean back against the cool tiles, while I let the tapped water slither down my skin. It feels good. Really good. Too good. My treacherous mind flashes me images of Christian, naked, wet. Christian's hands, tracing the path of the water down my body with his fingers. His fingers followed by his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. A whimper escapes my lips. And then I give in. I give in to the sensation, and let my hand travel down my body, my chest, my belly, until it enfolds my throbbing cock. A few quick strokes is all it takes, and I feel a temporary release of tension slip through me. And although my hunger has been satisfied for now, I know I must see him. I want to see him. Now. But I can't. It's the middle of the night.
While drying my hair, I try to figure out what is the earliest hour I can feasibly appear on his doorstep. After much consideration, I decide on half past six. I'll make up some excuse, any excuse, using mum's recent madness over Bushra's party. I stalk back to my room and check the time. A little over an hour to wait. I take my time getting dressed. And then I sit down, and I wait.
~s~c~
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