BTW, I have not made any kind of profit in the making, publishing or posting of this story. This is purely for creative purposes.
PLOT: Playwright John Peter's vacation plans went sideways when the country went on Covid-19 lockdown. The girl he literally met by accident is on lockdown with him. How does he avoid cabin fever for 14 days and control the strong attraction he feels for her? (Slow burn, romance, friendship, angst. Might develop into a relationship)
Warning: I use a lot of profanity for this story. Long chapter!
Note: 1. Pedro Pascal is the inspiration for this story. (Of course) 2. I named her Aize /ayz/ or /eyes/
Chapter Song: Falling – Janno Gibbs
HIDING PLACE FROM HELL
CHAPTER 22
AIZE BONAVENTURA
Not all girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice.
Some are made of adventure, intelligence, strength,
imperfection, tragedy and courage.
Aize looks at the connecting door. Ben wasn't kidding. He really got a lock for the closet door: the door that John discovered by accident the other day. The other day. Like it happened a long time ago. Aize had to smile; the lock prevents John from entering the room but that doesn't mean she couldn't unlock it from her side.
Hmm, that's interesting. Aize shakes her head in wonder. Sometimes Ben surprises her of how open-minded he could be.
A moment ago, Aize left John's room because she didn't want to force the man into something he obviously didn't want to do.
Never beg. It's the only thing she and her father agree on.
Damn! She blinks as she sways on her feet. These painkillers are strong! She hurriedly sits down and lay on her bed.
'I want you…' Her entire being cringes at the words that came out of her. She couldn't believe that she said it. Worse, other people heard it! Ben heard it! Dr. Santos heard it! Shit!
"Please kill me now…." She groaned in shame as she wraps the sheets around her. "Kill me…." Was the last thought in her mind as she drifted off to sleep.
=0=0=
One try.
One time.
Uh…what's the topic? Relationships. Boys. Men. Sex.
Ugh! Aize grimaces in distaste. If you can call the clumsy attempt at sex by her boyfriend in university, sex. Her classmates were talking about it in senior high school. Whispering. Giggling.
At that time she has had three boyfriends. The first one she had a crush on. He would be great eye candy. Just eye candy. Nothing else. Being her first, she was a little unsure of what to do with a boyfriend. She just wants him around to look good. Escort her around the school, to her classes, to school activities…show him off.
Well, adios! He lasted all about one month. No sex. No kiss. Just holding hands.
For the second boyfriend she was more careful this time because he was pushy on having sex. She didn't really like him that way so she gave him the boot after three months and he didn't get any sex to show for it either.
Let's fast forward to university…
There was Liam. Yeah, he was drool-worthy; dark brown hair, beautiful light brown eyes, muscular in the right places, not ridiculously tall. He got Spanish-Chinese blood in him. Ooh, hot combination.
Finally, she thought.
So it happened in his house. They were in his room, on his bed kissing…he reached down under her school uniform, fumbled for her undies, he fumbled for his own, went on top of her and all the time she was frowning. She was waiting for some feeling to kick in. Where's the throes of passion she was reading about? Where's the melting of her insides and the volcanic-like orgasm? Was it supposed to be like this? She looked up at his face contorted with his own pleasure and regretted that her first was such a letdown. Pissed, she pushed him off before he finished even if he put on a condom, put her panties back on, grabbed her bag and told him to take her home. She didn't look at him as she opened the door and climbed down the stairs.
Afterwards, walking home, Liam kept asking if she liked it. Oh God, the ego of this guy! Does he really think a girl lying there like a plank 'likes' it? She said 'probably'. Oops! That was a bad choice of word but she didn't want to tell a lie. That was the 'kindest' word she could come up with.
All she could react for when he broke up with her after a week was a smirk. Good riddance.
Her classmates must be daft as hell to even think that having sex could be this orgasmic heaven. They can have it. Those romance books were a scam.
Anyway, years after she had to grow up quite fast so all thoughts of young love and Harlequin romance was set aside.
=0=0=
Two years after university-
Aize was her father's daughter…as stubborn and as headstrong as him. Such is the irony of having raised a strong independent woman. She cannot be compelled to follow what her heart doesn't want her to.
"There's a job waiting for you here!"
"I'm not interested, dad!"
"You're more interested in herding a bunch of stupid rich people around the country than help manage the family business?!"
"We are those 'stupid rich people', dad." She passed by her father, toiletries in her hands.
"Aize, just try it for a few months. I'll train you. It's not hard." Edgardo Bonaventura feels like a salesman trying to convince a stubborn client.
"Why me?" she asked irritably. "Why not Ross?" she waved in the vague direction of her brother' room.
"I'm looking at you! You're qualified." Edgardo looked at his wife seated on the bed and pointed at their daughter. Help me! His eyes asked of her.
"Why?" Aize quickly held up a hand. "Stop! I don't wanna hear the 'because you're my daughter' crap okay?"
"Aize!" Elena Bonaventura barked at her.
Aize rolled her eyes. As if they don't use foul language at home.
"Hon, give her space until she comes back from the tour, okay?"
"But that's after a month!" her father sputtered.
"Aize, do you agree?" Elena snatched her daughter's hand as she was passing by, arms full of clothing. "Please?" she squeezed it gently.
Aize looks down at her mom. "Fine."
But she didn't have a month to think things through. The month didn't happen. It was just a week.
One fucking week.
Aize had no recollection of the trip back to Manila from Boracay. Snatches of events were hazy…in sepia. She remembers Paolo's worried face. He burst into the island's small salon where Aize and Reese were having a Thai foot massage.
'Oh hi baby….' But his attention wasn't on his girlfriend.
'Mio caro (my dear)….' Aize laughs and looks at Reese with a frown. Kneeling, he laid a gentle hand on hers. It was cold. 'Your parents….'
She blanked out after that.
The mind is like that. There were memories that were best hidden and filed away in a locked compartment of the mind. It protects the person. But the mind is not like a safe. It's more like a basket.
Sometimes some things would seep out: the wrong things.
She remembers two shrouded figures in the morgue, the caustic odor of chemicals, Reese's hand tight around hers, Paolo talking to someone.
The funeral and the burial….
Blank….
Her mind was a confusing morass of feelings and emotion; a feeling that is unwelcome to her. Aize channeled her grief in another form.
She didn't grieve; she got busy.
She asked Paulo to train her on anything he knows. She pushed herself as if she's going to compete in the Olympics. But after that she ran out of things to learn.
Next….If dad wants me to take over…Fine! When she reluctantly took over the agency Ben was astonished how she turned the agency around within the span of two years. Aize had no idea that it was about to go belly up in a year's time. The house was even mortgaged! Ben pointed out why her father was adamant on appointing her as his heir. She's good at making decisions. She's good at analysis.
But while all of this was going on her younger brother Ross added to the burden she was carrying. The assistant manager of Ross's BnB La Retraite emailed her about Ross's behavior: short-temper, looking haggard, and drinking heavily. Her suspicion was confirmed when she found he's doing drugs as well.
It was on Ross's first rehab that she got a couple of broken ribs. He wasn't that high on drugs not to be devastated that he hurt her. It made Ross's rehab take longer than usual because as soon as his drug rehab ended he was transferred to a psych ward right away. He stayed there for six months.
So the management of La Retraite fell on her as well and the Bonaventura Security and Protection agency.
When Ross came back from his second rehab he looked like hell. They used to look like twins because there was just barely a year of age gap between them. He lost weight, his hair thinned, his skin was sallow and he looked older than her. When Ross went back to work he undid all the progress that she established at the BnB. Unfortunately, barely three months after that he was back doing drugs. This time at his request she allowed him to stay at home. Dr. Santos would come every day to check up on him.
One night, Aize came back home from a long day at the agency and found Ross in the living room: a gun in his hand.
"Hi, sis." Ross shook the gun in her direction.
"Where did you get that?" Aize stood still. Her heart jumped. Fuck!
"I like this gun. What is it?"
"It's a Glock." Shit! Why did he have to take that one? How did he find the key?
"Oh! So this is a Glock, huh! It's beautiful, right?" he looked at the gun closely. "What was dad's gun called?"
"Smith and Wesson."
"Which one is better?"
"They're both good."
"How about you? What do you prefer?"
"I like the Sig Sauer better."
"Ah. I see. Do we have that?" Ross gets up.
"Yes." She walks to the hallway entrance to block him off. "Why did you take that out?"
"I was bored."
"Do you want me to teach you how to use it?" There's a painful dryness in Aize's throat. The Glock isn't for people who are not trained and familiar with this weapon.
"Oh yeah," he nodded. "You're some kind of gun expert now, huh?"
"Not reall…"
"Yeah, Ben told me. He's so proud of you." Ross towered over her. "You're the perfect kid."
"Don't listen to Ben."
"Why not?" Ross waves the gun around Aize. "You listen to Uncle Ben more than you listen to dad. Maybe Uncle Ben is your real father…" he poked the gun at her shoulder. He smirked.
She slapped him with all her might. Surprised, Ross reeled back then she swiftly grabbed the gun out of his hand, turning slightly to avoid accidental discharge, and trips his foot. He went down hard.
"Aize…!" Ben's voice called behind her. He followed her home. They saw each other at the gate and he said he's got something he wanted to talk to her about.
"Aize…sorry!" Ross cried, cringing on the floor. He shields his face with his hands as his sister stands over him, the gun pointed at his face. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! No, sister!" Aize's face tremble in rage as she kneels down to her brother. She slapped him again as she straddles him.
"You asshole!" Aize grabbed his neck and drilled the muzzle of the gun in the middle of his temple, bearing down hard. "You useless mother fucker! You have the guts to say those fucking things to me? Hah?! What the fuck are you thinking? Do you still have a brain left in that fucking head of yours?" She would alternately slap and punch him with one hand. Ross tries his best to shield himself but her rage is formidable.
"Do you wanna die right now? Here! Here! You're angry at me?!" Aize grabbed his hand and forced his fingers to wrap around the handle and the trigger. "If you wanna kill me at least know how to do it! Fuck you!" she pulled at his hand to point the Glock to her chest. "Pull the fucking triggeeer! Pull iiit!" she screams at the top of her lungs.
"Ben! Uncle Ben help me!" Ross screamed at the captain standing at the door with two shocked security people. "Help me!" he cried.
Aize grips her brother's wrist tight as she took the gun from his limp fingers. She pointed the gun at Ben and the two guards. "Don't!"
"Aize! Stop!" Shocked, Ben looks on helplessly as Aize grabs her struggling brother by the neck again and drilled the muzzle back to his face. "Aize! For the love of God!"
"I've had it up to here of the fuck ups you do to your life! What do you want from me?! What?!" she let him go, hit him again and again with her free hand while stringing profanity in the Tagalog language.
"I'm sorry! Sister, I'm sorry! Sorry….sorry!" Sobbing, Ross curled into a ball when Aize got off of him. "Forgive me, Ate! (/ah-teh/ Tagalog-big sister)
Aize slumps on the floor, breathing heavily, eyes on fire. She leans back on the wall pulls her legs up and set her trembling arms on her knees. "Ben, call Dr. Santos. Have him back at the rehab." She looks at her brother who is a sobbing mess on the floor. "You will not stay in this house when you come back. I've had it with you." She removes the magazine from the gun and let it fall on the floor with a loud clatter.
"Sister….forgive me…please. I don't want to go back there…." Ross sobs as the security guards help him up.
"Take him to his room. Dress him. Pack his things. Guard him until the ambulance comes."
"Ate! Sister! I'm sorry! Ate, sorry! I'm not going to do it again!"
=0=0=
I'm sorry! Ate, sorry….
"Ross….!" Aize gasps. She sits up and looks around. "Ross?" tossing back the sheet she quickly opens the connecting door and enters John's room. John's room. She quickly realized it at the scent of his cologne. The room's empty.
This is not Ross's room.
Ross is dead.
Where's John?
She turned around, back into her closet room. On her way back she snatches her clothes from the counter and dumps the damp clothes in a hamper. As she sat back in her bed she looks around the room. "Fuck it!" She stripped the bed of all the bedclothes and carted everything into her real room. She'll go back for her other things later on, she thought as she tugs the flat sheet. When done, she got back in bed, sighing as she hugs a pillow, the AC on medium cool. Sleepy….
I want you…. I want you….
Go away! She scrunches her face and punched the pillow but the thought kept on replaying in her mind.
I want you….
For fuck's sake! Aize swipes hair away from her face. The room's spinning….shit. Stomach grumbling. Food. I need food.
At the hallway she looks around wondering at the clean floor. She could hear someone moving in the kitchen. Shit…John's in the kitchen. Who else would it be? Return to the room?
Her stomach said: No we won't!
Fuck! Fine! Let's go…
"Hi…" All she remembers is that things went south after that greeting. Why does it always happen? Thank goodness that her weird circadian rhythm limits her interaction with him for a few hours. John looks pale. He must be working too hard. Poor guy. Let me keep him company for an hour or two. But he seemed to be distracted by something while they have small talk.
Goodness, Aize observes John. What's wrong with him? The man seems to be jumpy and fidgety. His hands were moving nervously; he runs his fingers in his hair, his fingers raps on the table, he clenches his hands tight. He keeps on looking at her then would suddenly look away. Being playful to help him relax didn't work because he got more edgy. Is he having burn out? Is it the virus? Is he sick? Maybe Dr. Jun should come and check him out.
"Aize…I have a question. Do you remember the accident this afternoon?"
She frowned and looked towards the patio. "Yeah, it came back to me. I bruised a rib from the fall out there…"
"How about before the accident?"
"What do you mean?" That's enough ice cream for now. It's too runny.
"Aize, what happened between your breakdown and the time you woke me up?"
Aize looked back at the patio but in her mind she saw something else…on the floor just outside the kitchen.
I'm sorry! Ate, sorry….forgive me, ate!
Ross….
"No…. I don't know what you're talking about…." She whispers.
"Aize…"
Ross' apparition vanished. Instead it was replaced by her as she was leaning over John, on the floor, her top open, cradling his head to her….SHIT! He knew! He fucking knew! He woke up. He saw….oh my God! She gasps. "I'm sorry, John…."
"Hey, I'm a big boy…"
The goddamned man just laughed at her! She wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes after what happened. It probably is a like a badge of being a man for him. Men do not lose respect in this way. It makes other men admire them more because women are attracted to them. They fling themselves to them, wanting to be near them. She likes his hugs; they're warm and she feels safe in there but now with her guilt it feels….
"….why did I do that to you….drunk...I think….we had...sex."
What?! "No."
"Aize, I also couldn't believe it but you were also drunk. You didn't..."
Aize looks at John's lips moving but his voice was fuzzy…sex…we had… "I wasn't drunk." Aize had never seen a man's blood drain from his face the way John's did. She got scared. What did she say? She wasn't drunk. That was true.
"I forced you...my God. I forced you…my God...I…I raped you...how could I do this...how?"
What the hell is this guy saying? Shit! She blinks the sleepiness away. These painkillers! I hate them! What? "Where the hell are you going?"
"….Ben what I did...call the police."
Aize downs John's half-cup of coffee. Thank God it's strong! Stay awake! "What?! The hell you are!" she got to him before he dials the guard house. "Listen to me! Nothing happened! John, nothing happened. Will you fucking calm down?" she grabbed handfuls of his shirt. "Hey!"
So he calmed down and she had no choice but to admit and confess what she did to him and despite all that he said….
"Kiss me, Aize…" John whispers.
Standing so close to her Aize could feel the heat coming from him. But it was the heat coming from his eyes as he looks down at her upturned face that shoots that thrilling sensation that her stupid body had responded to. Aize looks at his beautiful face and those lips she was crazy about. "John, I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"I don't know."
"I hope it's not about me."
"No! It's not you. It's me."
"Are you trying to put me in the friend zone?"
"No. Never there. Not ever there. John, when I say it's me I'm not trying to be cute or….." She frowned. "I'm just…."
John could see and feel her struggle. "I told myself that it's all going to be your move, your decision." John runs his thumb on Aize's lips. "But I really, really want to kiss you right now."
"Me too."
"Would you do the honors?" Aize nods. She reaches for John but instead of her arms going up to his shoulders her arms came around him so slowly and when their bodies touched John could just close his eyes and sigh. She laid her head on his chest and like a cat rubbed her face on him. "So…I'm being owned by you now?" Goddamn. He loves it!
"Yes." She whispers and tightened her arms around him.
John waits patiently. He lets her do whatever she was doing because it is sooo fucking….but when he saw her lips rising he met her halfway. He couldn't fucking wait….but she backed away.
"John….."
"I'm…sorry." John blinks hard. He gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Uh, that's not technically a kiss, okay? It's like an 'I'm sorry I was impatient kiss.'"
"Okay. I like it."
"Do you want me to do it again?"
"Yeah." She cleared her throat. "Please."
"No problem…" This time he kissed her forehead slowly.
"I love your lips. They're the most beautiful I've ever seen."
"Wow…" John smiles as her thumb caress his lower lip. "No one has said that to me before."
"John, I have a request…"
"Name it."
"Will you stay with me in my room?"
"The closet room?"
"No, I transferred. I'm done sleeping there."
"Sure, I'll stay with you. Let's close up and go. How's that?"
"Good idea."
Aize locked the house and turned off the lights except for the patio light and John tidied up the dining room and kitchen. He grabs his laptop and notes and held out his hand to her. She took it with a smile.
"Why did you move out?"
"That wasn't my life anymore." She turned the knob open. "I'll wait for you to change."
"Ten minutes. I promise." He kissed her hand.
"John…" Aize tugged his hand.
"Yeah?" he turned back.
Aize cupped his face and gave him the most sensuous kiss he has ever had in this life.
=0=0=0=
**'Mio caro-my dear (Italian)
***Ate /ah-teh/-elder/older sister (Tagalog)