Animosity

My shriek was hopelessly swallowed by the darkness. I squeezed my eyes shut as his lips pressed against mine. In the bitter shadows, a tender warmth washed over my still body.

When I opened my eyes, the light from the hallway entered the room blinding me. I loosened my grip from the futon and rubbed away the dry tears that blurred my vision. My first reaction after that was to scan the tiny room. He wasn't there. I even lifted the sheets to make sure. He was gone. I was alone; still fully clothed in my pajamas. When I checked, I found that the furnace had been set higher than the temperature I had set it to.

I lost consciousness. And now, I was clueless. Had anything actually happened?

No one was there to answer my question. My heart was pounding, I wanted the truth. I searched all over the house and nothing. Walking was difficult. My entire body felt numb, probably from remaining stiff the entire night... or so I hoped.

In my uncertainty, I rushed to the shower wishing the water would wash away the cold in my body. That deep cold that made me tremble every time I thought of him and the things he said. I avoided looking at my own reflection in the mirror, because I knew that if anything looked different I would break down. As the water washed over my body I tried to remember anything that could clear my suspicions. All I could remember just before fainting, for some reason, made me smile and at the same time sent chills down my spine. As it turns out, my Edward, or shall I say my Allan, was no Kent doll...

I left the empty house without a car parked in front at the usual time I always did before getting myself entangled in this quagmire. The day was beginning unusually too close to the way my old life had been. For an instance, I dared to believe it had just been one of those extremely realistic dreams.

It was no dream. It was just more of a mess than ever. As soon as I arrived to the library, I was greeted by my co-workers, "Congratulations!" they yelled in unison.

A squeak of my voice replied, "What?!"

The manager showed me a fax. Her stubby fingers didn't cover any part of the note other than the time it was sent. The 'Placement' office had been proud to announce my blissful acquisition of a life partner, "Please be considerate toward Ms. River's new life adjustments," read the last line.

Even though we were all girls, I still felt utterly self-conscious. I had reason to do so as they began to vocalize their thoughts.

"So, how did it go on your first night?" said Michiko leaning over my desk to examine my expression even closer.

The images of the night before and my speculations of the worst case-scenario made bite my lip and blush even more.

The manager, a large woman with short hair and almost manly features placed her hand on my shoulder. I saw her thick lips smeared in red lipstick move telling me, "Honey, if you don't feel well. You can go home for the day. You look ... not so well. Tell him to be gentler."

Even though this woman had no inhibitions toward calling me a dope and a complete moron, she seemed to be trying to console me. And then again... the gossip began. I took a deep breath and held it as I went to my only salvation. Arranging the new arrivals was the most isolated and tedious task in the library. Up until that day, I truly hated that task.

In the midst of my labor, I managed to think something up. If they were right about what they said before then I would know, by this simple test. During my lunch break, I took my purse and valiantly marched across the street to 'Bonjour a Tout Le Monde'. I had no problem walking in through the glass doors. Crossing toward the counter my heart-rate remained even, because in the back of my mind I thought, it's ok, they're only into their girls.

I felt an odd mix of relief and panic again. I wasn't my usual self around so many Edwards. And that terrified me. If things went on like that, I would surely lose my mind.

Just then, as I was next in line, I looked away from the menu. My eyes stopped right on the new cashier's eyes. The beautiful earth-green eyes stared back at me and he smiled, "Hi, how can I help you today?"

His golden hair was just below his jaw bone playing softly against his light skin. I must have gasped, and next thing I knew, I was stuttering as I pointed at the menu, "Uh, eh... N-ne-ver mind...so-sorry..."

I don't think I've ever felt my face that red. My heart was about to jump out of his chest. Surely, there should be laws against that level of beauty displayed so shamelessly in public. And surely, his woman should take better care of him.

Before my hurried retreat, I noticed a couple of my co-workers giggling in a corner table. They had been known as the 'femmes fatales' of the office. One had long blond hair and a striking figure, her name was Edith. Physically speaking, I dreamed of being like her. Across from her was Mirna, not as pretty as Edith, but she did do a good job with her make up and curly short hair. They both claimed they had no need for a steady Edward when they could borrow someone else's. I had my serious doubts. If anything, they had been the ones who invited me to the underground bar and left me alone there. If they had to pay for it, then they weren't as seductive as they alleged to be. I didn't care either way.

I walked out brushing my hair over my shoulder. The cold air was not as cold as I remembered. It felt like a relieving caress over my flustered face as I walked back to the library.

I had just pulled the heavy door open, when I heard a shrill of tires. Even before I had completely turned by reflex, I had seen the flash of blue in front of me. He was just stepping out of the car. I wanted to run inside and call sanctuary! My body betrayed me again. He fixed his glasses with one finger as he swiftly walked toward me. Before I knew it, he was standing next to me. The fragrance of his skin hit me and paralyzed me even more.

"Let's go," he said taking my arm. His voice was serious almost bored.

"Uh," I could only gaze at his eyes, his light brown eyes which I had just seen for the first time in the light.

He pulled me guiding me to the car.

As soon as he opened the passenger door for me, I snapped, "No! I..." my voice disappeared again, "I have to work," I whispered. I bit my lip trying to hold this odd sensation of fear and sadness.

He turned away from me, "Just get in," he commanded. But when I didn't reply, he sighed, "It's ok. Your boss won't mind, trust me..."

When he turned to me, his eyes revealed a strange flickering light from beneath the glasses. Maybe it was his magic, but somehow I ended in the car and didn't notice until he was in highway.

I looked down. My skirt was just above my knees and I did all I could to cover them. His eyes were fixated on the road. When I looked out, I had to look at my knees again. He was going fast.

In this world, it seemed that everyone went to a common speed. No one seemed to be in an extreme hurry. No one passed anyone, because it was all so uniform. He, however, stood out swerving between cars passing them faster and faster.

"Do you think... I can trust you?" I asked and realized I was hyperventilating.

"What?" he said in a flat tone.

"Don't play stupid!" I said looking at my feet because the blur of the cars we were passing by nauseated me.

His right hand let go of the wheel and slowly covered mine. His hands were significantly larger than mine, no wonder he had no trouble holding me down. I stared at him. His eyes were still focused on the road and drove with ease only using his left hand. We were going almost at the limit of the odometer. I tried to loosen my hand, but he tightened the grip.

"You have nothing to worry about... understand?" he looked at me. The light in his eyes was so intense it felt like it would burn through his lenses.

"N-nothing...?" I repeated.

He nodded right after and a slight blush covered his cheeks.

I wanted him to make it clear. I wanted him to say in the exact words that 'nothing had happened last night', but by his expression I knew it would be impossible. Could it be that he was just as shy with the opposite gender as I was?

Despite all my questions, I felt overwhelmed with joy. I was about to loosen up my hands and hug him. I was that happy. I didn't realize the sound around us and that were slowing down.

I had only heard the sound of an emergency siren before, but never that of a traffic officer. We were stopped at the shoulder of the highway waiting for the officer to get off his bike and walk up to us.

I could see he wanted to smile. Maybe it had been his first catch of the month, or ever. He enjoyed his walk and nonchalantly leaned by the window. He was a middle aged Edward, the helmet and sunglasses hid his features, but left view of his expression lines. I was glad about that. It just didn't seem the time for me to be in one of my usual "beauty shocks".

He talked to Allan about his reckless maneuvers and going over the speed limit. I snickered thinking, this ought to teach him a lesson. But, he soon turned to me, "Excuse me, Miss," he began to say in a coarse voice.

I turned to him expecting to explain that I wasn't a hostage or anything, "Eh, yes?"

"I need your I.D," he said extending his hand completely ignoring Allan.

I scrambled to get it out of my wallet. the damned thing always got stuck in my wallet. My hand was shaking by the time I handed it to the officer. He impatiently snatched it back –as if he had any serious need to get back to duty when everyone was going at such a uniform pace.

He eyed my picture a couple of times and after determining that it was me and not someone that looked at lot like me, he began to write on what seemed to be a notepad. As he wrote and looked at his watch, he said, "I'm sure that you're aware of Allan's need for speed will cost you. Don't forget he's your responsibility. If necessary, try to contact..."

"It's ok," Allan interrupted, "It won't happen again."

"I'm sure it won't," said the officer as he reached to me with my ID and the peace of paper he, "You can just mail that with your payment."

I blinked looking confused as ever. The paper in my fingers said:

'Traffic violation. The boxes checked were speeding, and disregard for common human safety.'

My name was on the offender's information. I had just been handed a speeding ticket without owning or ever having driven a car. I was appalled. And so was Allan. He reached over and snatched the ticket, "I'll pay for that," he said sounding distant as he continued to drive.

The image of his luggage –if it could be called that– flashed in my mind. I yanked the ticket back. He turned to me angry, but he couldn't do anything. I took the ticket into my wallet and then into my purse which I hid next to my door. I sighed happily. I had just won my first victory and it felt great. But then I looked out of the window, "Hey! You're doing it again!"

"We're here already," he replied, "And besides, he wouldn't have caught me if you had kept quiet while I was driving."

"Huh?" I was outraged, but that's all I managed to say.

He began to parallel park as if it was nothing, and then he explained, "I'm not used to driving with passengers..." his voice faded as he opened his door.

I began to notice then, that he seemed to avoid looking at me whenever he spoke. Somehow, knowing that gave me a jump or a certain edge of advantage. I didn't get to celebrate it much. He opened my door before the feeling had completely taken effect. Seeing his hand waiting for mine to help me up, just made me melt.

The skin of his hand was firm, but quite soft. For a moment, it felt like his fingers traced over the softness of my frail hand. Before I could confirm anything, he let go.

It was amazing how swift he was. After meeting him for the first time, I was sure he was a klutz like me, but now I wasn't so sure. He waited for me outside the door with his arms closed and looking away from me. I noticed then that his clothes were peculiarly casual for office work. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that said 'Karma' across the chest. I chuckled a little disguising it in the ring of my keys as I opened the door. Nonetheless, his figure amazed me, lean and muscular like a statue. His firm chest had nothing to envy that of Aiden's –except maybe the type of shirt.

After I made sure I wouldn't laugh, I stammered to ask, "Uh, so, uhm, you had a casual day at the office?"

"No," he said as he looked around the living room, "I had the day off."

"So, where did you go this morning?" I tried to sound casual, but I knew it still made me seem... needy.

He walked off to the kitchen. For a moment I thought he didn't hear me, "I went for a hike at Mount Dista."

There was no remorse in his words. In fact, he seemed a bit annoyed. It was dawning on me, the fact that he wasn't accustomed to this kind of domestic life. Perhaps, he had already resigned to living without it.

I followed him into the kitchen, "Mount Dista, isn't that a dangerous hunting location?" I stood by the doorway awaiting his reply tapping my foot on the ground.

He was looking around in the kitchen, "This time of the year is usually not so full."

"Were you hunting?" I urged. My voice sounded upset.

He stopped looking into the cabinets and turned to me almost amused, "You have animosity toward hunting, don't you?"

I nodded as I remembered the image of my pet dog. We had taken him to that mountain on the day of my eleventh birthday. He strayed from us and was shot by a hunter who claimed to have confused him with another animal. I never forgave the man.

"Would you make me leave if I said I had been hunting? Would it hurt you if I said I killed a cuddly bear?" he mocked me.

"Even if I..." I had wanted him to, but I couldn't say it to his face. It felt something within me would shatter if I did, "It's a dangerous thing. I don't approve of it, but I can't make you change."

"You can't take me back either..." he said hiding again into the fridge in search of food, and when he reemerged he said, "I was hiking."

I felt as though someone had pulled me out of a nosedive into a jagged cliff. I exhaled and realized he was cutting vegetables. He had water boiling.

I ran to his side startled, "Hey, I'll do the cooking if you're hungry."

He simply pointed to a white book on the counter with the tile "Healthy Cooking", and to my dismay, he added, "The food you prepared yesterday was lacking in some basic vitamins and minerals."

"Oh," I said, "But... it was good," I insisted, "If you're hungry from that hike, I'll make you a quick snack. It looks like you're going to take a while..." my voice trailed off as I looked at his technique.

He seemed slow or too cautious not to have an accident. He blushed when he realized I was leaning to close. He fixed his glasses in place, "Go sit down. I don't want you getting burned!"

His irate voice and pointing finger had me sitting at the small kitchen table in no time. I was like a bad kid being put in a corner. I couldn't say anything for fear he would yell at me, and even worse, that he might get hurt because of me distracting him.

The pungent odor of freshly chopped onions filled the kitchen and probably the entire house too. I sat quietly looking at him glancing at the instructions in the recipe. He seemed confident. I, too, began to feel confident as the smell of onions began to take a sweet turn. Fried in butter, just about anything was good.

An hour must have passed. He didn't sit once and I wasn't allowed to help. I was nodding off into sleep when my own stomach's growl woke me up. He turned away from the stove and glared at me, "It'll just be a couple of minutes now."

"I know," I said abruptly. "I just... uhm, I was realizing. We haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Ileana Rivers, but you can call me..."

"Lea," he said as he turned off the stove, "I'm Allan, but of course that you already knew that." Although there was no emotion in his words, his voice was even more melodic as he said his name after mine.

I blushed, "Yeah, sorry if that bothers you."

He shook his head, "We're even," he stated turning to me with a slight smile, "Or did you think they would throw me in here without any information on you?"

"Guess not..." I mumbled. In fact, it seemed that information –even the most personal– was open to the public. After all, I had just witnessed it at my own workplace.

I laughed nervously trying to hide my discomfort when suddenly a large soup bowl was served before me. It was brown and runny with melted cheese on top. I was afraid to ask. He set a bowl of salad on the table and sat in front of me. Then he explained, "It's French onion soup. You don't eat a very varied diet so this should be good for you."

I couldn't believe he had even that he knew that much about me from a simple file. I certainly couldn't recall when I had written that in my application. Perhaps he had figured it out by my current food supplies. I agree that it wasn't a grocery store, but I managed to go days well fed without leaving my house at all.

Nevertheless, I took on his advice. I took a spoon and he did the same. The melted cheese over the crouton looked terrific. He took a bite first. His expression turned serious and troubled. His pale skin began to turn green. He rushed to spit in the sink. I put my spoon down, "Are you ok?" I asked.

I could hear him muttering something about "wrong" and "spices". He pranced to my side and took my plate away. I heard the waste disposal go on, and he explained, "I'm sorry. It's... I messed up. I substituted one of the spices and it... well, sorry." I could hear the shame in his voice.

I shook my head. I took a fork and stuck it in the salad. I was confident that telling him that at least the salad was not a failure would cheer him up. However, I got a slap to my taste buds. I chewed and chewed on the bitter greens and supper sour orange. Even my best effort to grin was crippled as I announced, "Tastes... healthy..."

"Nice try," he said as he picked up the entire bowl, "It's just more trash."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, "Healthy salads usually don't taste good."

He glared at me, "Don't say stupid things. This is just going to upset your stomach and the last thing I want is to mess up if you get sick."

"Sorry..." I whispered as I fiddled with my fingers and pondered I heard him dump something else in the disposal, "It- it had really good presentation."

He cut me off, "You should order some take-out, or I'll take you wherever you want."

Allan's pride was hurt. I could only imagine all the things the 'dragon' woman would have said if she had seen his failed attempt. It was likely that because of her he tried to do well, and now... I felt like a giant stone crushing what little self esteem he had. If I tried to console him now it would have made things worse.

In the end, I called Marco's Pizza, a place around the corner with very few customers and fast delivery. I ordered what I thought was the worst thing in the menu. I would criticize their presentation and taste. That was sure to boost up his self esteem.

Waiting was always a drag. Waiting with someone who I hardly knew, but that seemed annoyed to no end was even worse. We sat in the living room. I browsed through the cookbook he had used. Their philosophy was variety rather than low fat or low carb. Every time I flipped pages I could hear him sigh –if not growl- but I ignored him.

As soon as the doorbell rang, we jumped to our feet. I got to the door first and eagerly took the containers. I wasn't prepared. The cute boy –probably no older than seventeen- with bright blue eyes flashed me a killer smile and his dirty blond hair swayed in the air as he waited patiently. My face turned red, and my body was frozen like stone. I only reacted until he said, "Uh, it's twenty-seven fifty..."

"Oh right!" I snapped and began searching in my pockets.

Just then, a solid forearm appeared on my side with a pair of bills at the tips of his fingers, "Keep the change." He said coldly. Allan waited until the boy was gone to take the food from my fumbling hands and ordered, "Let's go to the kitchen."

I nodded. The red in my face didn't fade, not even as we ate their tofu pizza. It needed a ton of salt. It tasted too 'healthy'.

I didn't notice until he took one of my strands of hair away from my face that I had gotten pizza sauce on it. My blush intensified and my thumping heart became even louder as I scrabbled to clean it up. He didn't say a word. Perhaps he was too busy regretting his decision of letting me choose the food. One thing was certain; I was even more self-conscious and wary of his unspoken thoughts.

He finished before me. He placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands. It seemed like his mind was sinking into a deep reverie of which I would never know. I took advantage of it and tried to mend my past clumsiness by graciously clearing the table.

My hands shook as I reached for the plastic plates on his side. He was staring at the wall, still deep in thought. I took a deep breath and told my self to calm down. It had never worked, and this was no exception. I couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his mind if he even noticed me moving. I shook my head trying to clear my thoughts.

I was taking the first of three steps that it took to get to the garbage can, when my foot got snagged in the leg of the chair. THUD!

I seemed to echo. The plates scattered across the kitchen floor –and almost made it into the can. I dazed from my sudden trip. My foot hurt and my embarrassed expression was about to hurt even more. My first reaction before opening my eyes was to raise my head above the table. I opened my eyes and there was no one there. Only then did I realize my fall had been extremely painless...

Bam! The reason why struck me. He had somehow caught me and fallen under me. He had taken all the hit of the floor against his back and my body on top of his. I scrambled and stammered to apologize. His head was arched back. And when he looked at me, the yellow that my skin took after the scare of a fall was replaced my red. His glasses had fallen off.

We were face to face with me on top of him. The lines of his face in person were godly in comparison to the file photo. His nose was perfect, but most fascinating of all, were his golden eyes. Yes, his stare was still fierce, but the lines of his eyelashes made it seem like he was wearing a thin line of eyeliner. Simply beautiful. His lips seemed to tremble as he opened his mouth to lick them. It wasn't fair. The light touch of saliva made them seem smoother. The enticing glisten of his entire, almost vulnerable expression, was soon broken. There was nothing vulnerable about him. If anything, he was wicked, as wicked and cunning as any man can be.

His left hand had caught me since I had fallen. I might have not noticed had it not been for the fact that it remained there cupping and groping my breast. I could see my expression reflected in his eyes going from sheer amazement and delight into disgust and anger.

I smacked his hand away, "What the hell?!" I asked angrily.

He held my hands as I tried to get up and pulled me closer to him, his voice was a swift whisper almost a hiss, "Don't say you don't want this. I've noticed... is it just any other of them that you want?"

I shook my hands free from his grip, "No!" I yelled, "But you don't have to do this!" I pleaded, "Whatever they told you or said you had to..."

He cut me off with a sarcastic laugh as he got up to his feet. He had his glasses back on by the time he offered me his hand to help me to my feet.

I sighed with frustration. I was naïve to take his hand. He pulled me to my feet and pressed my chest against his. He smirked at the sensation my breasts pressing against his solid chest. He held my waist making it impossible for my arms to fight his embrace. Tears of anger slid from eyes streaming down my cheeks.

He leaned closer to my face. His lips brushed softly over mine and passed down my jawbone. I could feel his breath as he spoke against my neck, "Even if it's them that make you feel that way. We're stuck in this now. And you know... I have my needs too."

I felt my heart take a dive into my intestines and back again. Trapped in his arms my body felt weak. I was stuck in my conflicting emotions. In part, I was outraged and infuriated by his behavior. And in another way, I was at my own emotions, because I was suddenly happy. That someone that seemed to dislike me as much as he did might desire a walking chaos like me was sending my heart into a frenetic rush.

Was it like this for everyone else? Had it been like this for mom? For sis... or for Julie? I gazed to the ceiling asking in my mind that if anyone could hear me; then, please tell me this is normal!

Writer's comments: First of all, thanks for the support and positive feedback guys. It really helps. And... was anyone else bummed to find that nothing happened? Allan's just getting more interesting, isn't he?

Next week's chapter: Taste