Note: Sudden rating upgrade because… well, sex. I guess I should warn that this chapter is NOT about SwanQueen sex, though. But please, bear with me. (Oh, by the way, I may or may not have inserted a Buffyquote here.)
It's there. I feel it right there, behind my eyes. Nearer… Ah. Yes. Almost, almost done.
The sweat. And the smell. And his arm holding and grabbing and I just feel the rush and the sting of his bear on that spot in my neck and electricity waves and my skin's so fresh, so ready and I hear him say I love you I love you so from behind while pushing and the push feels harsh and great but of course he won't be the first to go because he cares so much for my own pleasure…
Oh. I lost it. Damn. The fog in my mind is dissipating and suddenly I'm aware of my surroundings. And everything is hard and bright and violently flat… He'll notice and he'll look concerned and say to me love what's wrong and try to make it better. And I really need this deliverance. I was so close. So I focus. I display pictures on the screen of my shut eyes. The kinkiest I can think of, the ones that I like to go to whenever I am for a quick release time on my own.
Oh, yes. I'm back there and I will be over the edge soon and just, just fine and…
The door. The hallway door just opened and closed. Footsteps approaching.
"Ma?"
My son.
"Ma? Are you here?"
I rush and pretty much creep all over my bedroom floor in the haste for retrieving my clothes. I struggle with my yoga pants while Killian just lies with his mutilated arm over his head. I try to send him a stern look so that he gets dressed too but decide that it's better to just get out there.
"Henry!" I close the door behind him and stare at an empty living room.
My son's head emerges from his bedroom doorframe. "Hey, Ma! I thought you weren't home." I smile and tidy my hair. And smile again. "I left my pendrive here and I need it for today's exposition in class." He wields the thing and puts it in his back pocket. "Are you okay?"
I approach him and hug him tight, smelling his hair. I'm suddenly concerned that I'm touching my son with sex sweat on me. "Of course, kid. I'm happy to see you!" I lean backwards and hold his shoulders, almost in line with mine now. My sweet, all grown-up kid. "Did you have any breakfast?" I asked while I head towards the kitchen. "I was gonna make some for me right now."
"I did, yep." He rubs his nape and leans on the counter. "You know my Mom. Wouldn't let me out of the house without my super vitaminated daily dose." I nod knowingly, picturing a die-hard Regina in my mind as I pour some coffee in the filter, and feel smile spreading across my face. "But I could do with some of these." He extends his hand towards the box of pastries Killian brought in before, opens it and looks avidly at its contents.
I finish winding the coffee maker and place it on the stove. "Remember to chew." I say, once I have turned around to face him. He just gulps and grins happily and then proceeds to devour another pastry. "I take it that you're not getting specially nervous about your grand speech at Lit class."
"Hum." Gulp. "I feel pretty confident that I master the thing just all right." Gulp.
"Oh, I hear you. By the way, it takes some nerve to digress about the influence of European folklore on American modern short narrative in a classroom full of fairytale characters."
"They're gonna love it."
"Those narcissistic brats."
We stare at each other and cackle. Henry spits half of the content of his mouth all over the place. Oh, jeez. It's great that we can get all goofy about our unsettling living circumstances.
"Am I missing the fun?"
I put my head out of and see Killian coming by. Fully dressed, thank god.
Henry's face has gone all serious and grave. He reaches for a napkin and starts cleaning the counter looking very uncomfortable. "Sorry." He mutters. "I should have rung before stepping in… I didn't realize…"
"Don't, mate. This is your place. Why shouldn't you be free to come in at any time?" Killian is attaching his hook to the prosthesis with a look in his face that's leaving no room to wonder what he was doing -with me- when Henry exerted said freedom minutes before.
"Anyway, I should get going." Henry propels himself off the counter and heads to the hallway. I just go after him and hold the door open once he has stepped out. I'm such a pathetic mother that I can't find anything to sooth the uneasiness that I myself have force upon my kid. So I just offer him another one of my stupid, stupid smiles. He's so gracious to smile back at me. "See you later, Ma." He turns around and begins stomping down the stairs. He stops for a moment and looks back and says: "I love you!" So brightly. Then disappears.
I linger for a moment staring at the empty corridor before closing the door. I feel a knot swirling in my chest.
And then there's a hand caressing me. An arm embracing me from behind. A mouth running through my jaw.
"Shall we resume our whereabouts, love?"
I swift and my face is so near his. So near. I smell his words. "The mood got kinda ruined." I say with a grin, leaning on his shoulder. And then retracting. "You should have let me talk to him."
He frowns. "I just told him not to be ashamed of using his keys to enter his own home."
"I know. But it should have been me the one to say it." I take a step away from him and add: "I'm the parent."
I feel guilty straightway. I see I've hurt him. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to make it clear. That I'm his mother. That I can be a mother.
I disentangle from him with a sigh. The coffee is boiling on the stove. It's starting to smell burned. I kiss his lips and go to switch the fire off. "I have to get ready to work." I say, making my way towards the bedroom.
Before I reach the wardrobe, I'm trapped once more. "Let me bring the proper mood back." He whispers and kisses me and keeps caressing my side and holding my waist with such need. Because he wants me. He wants me so. And I can tell he is so full of desire for me he would do anything.
So I let him want me. I let him love me.
The knot gets tighter and crawls up my throat and strangles me. It's good we're not face to face. My tears tickle. And my mind blows up with this sole idea. I crave. I crave.
I crave for love.
