Chapter 2
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, guys, they were great!
The story's become more of a character-driven piece so far, but it'll grow a plot soon. What will the plot be? Dunno. Your guess is as good as mine.
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He carried her to the couch, made sure she was comfortable, and found a blanket on the floor to cover her with. A clean one, hopefully, but he wasn't sure. She looked cold, though, so he covered anyway. He gave her a peck on the forehead and lightly swept her hair from her eyes.
She had fallen asleep crying.
He knew not what to make of it. It was a problem.
It was a problem because he, in actuality, understood. He understood why she was crying, he understood why he was crying, why he was leaving her there on the couch to go home and take a cold, cold shower.
He had just made Neela commit adultery.
Ray pondered this as he drove home, so distracted that his van narrowly missed a pedestrian. Part of him was angry at himself for hurting Neela. She had trusted him. The other part, however; the other part was turned on. Turned on by the fact that he had power over her, the power to turn her on. He could make her beg.
And it was only him that had this…control over her.
He could bend her, twist her, and snap her, just like that, at will. She would let him do all those things and enjoy it.
He shook his head at this absurd theory as he slid into the parking space. It made him sound like an over-possessive freak. He didn't want to own her. His head told him it was wrong, chauvinistic, but his body reacted otherwise. Had she been in his head at the moment, Neela would've kicked his goddamn nuts.
Ray shut the engine and groaned, looking down at his jeans.
Time for that cold shower.
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The water cooled his body, head, and thoughts. He could think clearly now. Clearer than the bluest, cloudless sky.
All that, while he was driving?
It was fueled by lust, he explained to himself. No need to panic. He needn't worry about turning into a raging, jealous, boyfriend. He hated those types, anyhow. He would see 'em all the time at the gigs he use to play. Jerks. They'd rough their girls up anytime an innocent looker would check them out, complaining that their skirts were too short or their shirts too low. And it would be them that would dress up their little trophies, bastards.
The tears from earlier returned as Ray sat on the couch, with damp hair and clothes, watching the television.
Channel 2, fuzz n' buzz.
He had made Neela commit adultery. The thoughts in his head repeated, over and over. He was a home wrecker. He was an adulterer. He was the other man. He was an ass. The other man.
But was he really? How did he know that he was "the other man"? How did he know it wasn't Michael she had been moaning for? Ray's conceit shielded the fact that Neela hadn't gotten laid in God knows how long, that maybe he was a consolation prize.
He hadn't been thinking, he realized, when he drove to Abby's after his shift earlier.
Ray searched his mind for the reason he'd decided to see Neela. He knew she'd been avoiding him, could that have been why? To talk to her, clear the air between them.
That was the reason, he decided, but it became clouded by something else.
He remembered stopping by the local park beforehand, sitting on a bench, ironically, thinking. He loved to think at the park. The green colors and fresh air soothed him, as well as the birds and squirrels. Who needs a shrink when you've got nature on your side?
Then it came to him. He had seen two lovers, on a nearby bench. The man had his arm around the woman, his hand on her face. They were kissing, passionately, but softly. It was endearing, romantic.
It impaired his thought process.
