Part Seven
Curt
Ewan, his name was Ewan. It suited him perfectly – it was strong and yet lyrical, like a two syllable song.
He was gone by the time I awoke, still curled around the empty space where his body had been, and in his place was a small, roughly folded piece of paper. I imagined the hands that had written it caressing and stroking my skin, sending white-hot flickers of desire searing through my body, as they had done the night before. Shaking my head as if to clear it, I smoothed the note out on the crumpled sheets, and tried to decipher his hurried scribble. "Curt – sorry I have to leave you so early, filming starts at 9. Last night was… electric, but all very, very new to me. Talk later. Ewan." I was disappointed at the briefness of it, but what had I been expecting? A long intimate, elaborate love letter, spilling his heart and expressing his deepest longings, from someone I'd, in truth, just met? Sighing, I tried to console myself with 1) the previous night had been as fucking incredible for him as me, and 2) that he was coming back. And the revelation that it was "very, very new" to him surprised me. He seemed to know what he was doing if last night was anything to go by…
Pulling on the pair of leather trousers that had been hastily tossed aside the night before, I shuddered as the memory of where I was hit me; still in my dressing room backstage. Shit. Lighting a cigarette, I inhaled deeply, savouring the sensation as the smoke swirled around my lungs. It seemed to calm and settle me, cover my anxieties for a while, hiding them from me. Backstage appeared to be deserted, so I decided to poke around and see if there was anything to keep my thoughts from racing over and around him. Half an hour later, I slumped down on my bed, still with Ewan floating around my brain. I almost screamed with frustration. He had lodged himself into my mind and occupied all my thoughts; every inch of me cried out for him. How the hell had I fallen in so deep so quickly? I knew I would end up drowning if I wasn't careful, but there was no one to help me, and I was far beyond rescue. Grabbing a notebook and pen, I watched as the emotions flowed out of my brain and onto the paper, amazed as always at the calm and stillness it brought.
Dehydrated
Reincarnated
Phoenix rising from the ashes, alight
Soul lightened
Scars tightened
Born again with will, with might
Drowning
Surrounding
Encased in wonder, ascends on high
The skeletal frame breathes again,
Restoring, returning the life it once had
Saviour, saviour
How can I return the favour?
Saviour, saviour
Spiteful, sweet, regain the flavour