1
Nineteen
I lie beside her, embracing her warm body as she whispers in my ear, "I love you," her breath caressing my face. I look her in the eye and kiss her hard, and she moans, kissing me back, but I push her away. Holding her shoulder with one hand, I run my fingers down the side of her face and neck. She shivers and tells me it tickles. I smile and pay her no mind, my fingers venturing further downward, discovering and exploring.
"I love you," I say, my eyes locked onto hers, which are an earthy green and sparkle like emeralds. Tears form in her eyes, and she holds them back and laughs. We kiss again, this time lightly, our smiles fitting perfectly together. We part, and I turn her around, breathing on her neck and kissing her back. She giggles.
"Teague," she says. Hearing my name makes me jump, and I almost snap at her.
"Martin," I say, calming my voice at the last moment. My heart beats fast, but I sigh silently in relief. I can't ruin this for myself.
"Martin..." she purrs. "May I tell you a secret?" I lean over her and whisper into her ear.
"Yes," I say, letting my breath linger silently after I speak. I nuzzle her neck, and I know it tickles her. But she likes that. She smiles.
"I..." she starts. I grow tense but force myself to relax. I have to be patient. She speaks again, this time in a whisper. "I've never told this to anyone." She pauses, and I massage her shoulder, waiting for her to speak. She takes a deep breath. "I have some extra money... Nobody else knows." Inside, I laugh at her foolishness... "And I know I can trust you." ...And her naïveté. "You're the only man I've ever loved..."
You told me I was your first, I almost say.
"...And I want you to know that I don't care where you came from." She turns to me, and I look back at her, my face showing nothing but love and dedication. "And maybe one day, we'll be able to be together for real. In public. All I want to do is show you off to everyone I know, but if I do that - I lose everything. It makes me feel so guilty, that I would pick my lifestyle over you - "
"No," I say, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "You have to do what you must do. It's no use for both of us to be poor and starving. I will love you no matter what." I almost roll my eyes.
"I know," she says. "That's what makes you so special, but I have an idea. If you were actually rich, we could be together, so if I give you the money..." My ears perk, and my breath catches in my throat.
"...You could start a business." I exhale, and my mask breaks away. This conversation has taken an interesting turn. "Then, you could make enough money to be with me." She smiles like a little girl.
"And what would this business be?" My real self kicks into action. "And how would I ensure that I'd be successful? What if I lose all the money?"
"I don't know what the business would be," she says, looking down. "But, it shouldn't be that difficult." I can tell that suddenly, she realizes her plan is not very likely to succeed. Disappointed, I don my mask again.
"My beautiful Francesca," I say, lightly holding her chin between my fingers, "I will consider your plan." Her eyes light up.
"I - I did not think that you would," she says. "I mean, I believed you would when I first thought of it, but when I actually said it - " I put my fingers to her lips. Anything to stop her from rambling on. I grow anxious. This entire ordeal has been tiring, and I am ready to be done with it.
"Dear, I will make it work because I love you, and I will do anything for you." She embraces me and kisses my lips.
"Martin," she says. I smile. My name from her lips sounds like a standing applause, but I cannot take my final bow quite yet...
"Where is this money you spoke of?" I take a risk, but she does not notice my forwardness. Love blinds us, I think to myself. The magic of love surrounds her, shrouding her vision in illusion... and I am the magician.
"Just behind there," she says, pointing to a large painting across the room.
Damn it, I didn't check behind the paintings. I nearly curse audibly at my stupidity, but knowing the safe's location is only the first part. I decide to take another risk, hoping that her mind will be cloudy enough to not notice.
"I'll start tomorrow," I say, "But how do I get to the money?"
"It's not all coin," she says. "Some of it is family heirlooms and antiques. All of them are beautiful, but not as beautiful as you." My mouth grows numb as my fake smile grows wider and more desperate. My cheeks ache. I concentrate on her silky skin, running my callused palms down her hip. She likes that.
"I - I'll..." she starts. I distract her too much; I rest my hand on her waist. "I know you usually leave early in the mornings, so I'll give you the combination now. I would prefer that you stayed, though." She grins. "I'll order breakfast in bed and hide you under the covers when my servants arrive." I laugh lightly, and her face turns serious. There is longing in her eyes. "I would love to wake up in your arms," she whispers. Her eyes are far away, and the tears form again. "The arms of the man I love."
"Of course," I say sincerely, never flinching as I look into her eyes. She sighs, relieved.
"Seven, two, five," she says. "Will you remember? Shall I write it down for you?"
"No," I say, tapping the side of my head with my finger. "I'll remember." She looks at me, and we share a silent moment, but soon I am restless. One last time, I say to myself.
I pin her to the bed and climb on top of her. Her eyes are both curious and excited as I close the distance between us, and as the night passes by, we are in ecstasy - she, from the sugar-sweetness of love, and I, from both greed and lust.
I awake to darkness. She is asleep, warm and soft against my steel skin. I look at her one last time and then climb out of bed. My clothes are on the floor. I don them silently, feeling my way in the dark. Across the room is the painting. I don't remember what is on it, and from here, the canvas is nothing but shadows. I cross the room, quietly and carefully, my hands out in front of me, and there it is. The painting creaks on its hinges as I pull it back. It opens like a door and reveals the safe, and I remember the numbers: Seven, Two, Five. The metal safe clicks and pops open - a satisfying sound. As I look inside, even in the dark I know that what I see is beautiful. My bag is in the corner, and I fill it with as much as it will carry. She doesn't wake, even as the gold clangs and clinks as I drop it into the bag until it is stuffed. I strain to close it, but I manage. The safe is a black hole, now, like a mouth waiting for a taste of food. I leave it none.
I close the door and put the picture back in place. The balcony doors beckon me, and I catch a glimpse of moonlight as the clouds break. I turn the handles and step outside. I smell the air; it smells of freedom.
I shimmy my way down a pipe, and my feet hit the grass with a muffled thud. The mansion looms over me like a cage, and I laugh, taunting it at its inability to keep me locked up. Finally, this is over, but I feel the weight of the gold on my back and suddenly, it hurts. The straps cut into my shoulders, and the bag bends my back, but I must carry what I have taken. There is no dropping it, now. I resign myself to my burden and huff my way down the cobblestone road, the gold pulling me down all the way back home.
