BT – Chance Encounters – Xmas Night – Chapter 2
God, I never intended this one to be more than a one-shot but then my imagination got carried away, I guess, and I was missing Henry so very much ;)
The next couple of days pass by in a blur. All in all, you've come to discover that you have nice colleagues. You felt miserable the first day, not knowing anyone, but now they've gotten used to you and have invited you to the Xmas party. You come home around 9:00. It's already pitch dark outside, the street lamps casting a subdued light on the pavement, but most of the buildings have been decorated for Xmas and the lights shine joyfully from almost every house you pass. Some people have not yet closed their shutters and you can see the Xmas trees laden with baubles and garlands through the windows. You absentmindedly start humming carols and make a few dance steps on the sidewalk as you reach your own building. You suddenly feel self-conscious and chuckle to yourself. You haven't felt that good for a long time and this is all thanks to him. If he hadn't been there that night, you'd still be whining about your own misfortunes. You wouldn't be enjoying yourself and counting your blessings. He gave you the confidence you've been after your whole life.
As you step inside your building, your mind wanders back to that night not so long ago and the feel of his wonderful curls brushing against your face as he nuzzled your neck. You sigh with content. That evening was your own personal Xmas miracle. You had not expected anything except sadness and self-pity. Instead you got a sexy and adorable man at your beck and call if only for a few hours. You loved every moment of it, his careful caresses, as if he were afraid of breaking a china doll, his heated kisses, his whispers in your ear of how soft and beautiful you looked, and you relish in the memory of it. You did know from the beginning that he could not be yours, that he was out of your league, not because he told you so as he really made you feel as if you were the only one that mattered at that moment, but you know for certain that he is not for you. He's too mysterious and handsome to fit into your own tiny life on this earth. You smile to yourself as you lay the back of your head on the hard panel of the elevator. It doesn't matter. You had him for one night and he gave you the most awesome gift someone's ever given you – trust. You don't know how it happened – you don't want to know how this happened actually – but at one point during that evening you've felt the mood shift. That was just after feeling that wonderful warmth coursing through your veins and you had unwound completely.
Your head is resting on his shoulder and you can feel his lips laying open-mouth kisses on your neck. You feel him lick your skin and then he is straightening you and looking you in the eyes, his own gaze as dark as the night. Looking deep into the abyss of his eyes, you feel your mind drift to that unknown and strange place you sometimes reach just after a dream escapes you and you're ready to wake up. You feel nothingness slowly enveloping you. "I want you to forget..." he starts saying to you, his voice low and rumbling in his chest. Your eyes widen in fear – the fear of losing what you've just grasped for the first time in your life – and you silence him with a kiss. He looks surprised and a little worried. "Don't!" you say, panicky.
"Don't what?" he inquires, tilting his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowing in worry.
"Don't make me forget. I know that's what you want. Don't take that from me. If you don't wish to see me again, I swear I won't bother you. Just don't persuade me to forget I met you. Please?" you plead.
He chuckles then says coolly: "You know, it's not often someone does resist me..." You can see the muscle in his jaw twitch and boy, you know you're in big trouble!
"My Auntie, she used to tell me I was hard headed and never listened to anybody else but myself so I guess that's why..." you try to explain sheepishly.
"Well, well," he says peering at you, his eyes darkening, "I guess I'm gonna have to deal with two of you at the same time. Lord does work in mysterious ways..." He is not joking and you can see him stroking pensively the rosary that is hanging from his wrist.
"Are you telling me God is testing you or something? 'Cos really I don't want to cause you any trouble," you say as you grab your bag from the floor of the car and turn towards the passenger's door intending to leave before he gets mad. You've seen it before – he might be a very sweet and gentle lover but just underneath the surface you can feel some nature of a very different kind. He firmly lays his hand on your forearm and your breath itches. You should never have accepted to follow him. There is something terribly wrong in all this and suddenly you feel fear creeping up your spine.
"Don't fear me," he whispers, pain in his voice, and your heart skips a beat – how can he know when he's not even looked into your eyes? You haven't even uttered a word! "Please," he adds. It's his time to plead. You turn, amazed that the tables have turned so fast. You look into his eyes and see pain and loneliness. He doesn't look at all like the cheeky, confident, even smug young man he was some minutes ago. He doesn't even seem dangerous anymore and for a brief moment, you wonder if he's pretending, hiding his true nature. When did you get it right? Who is he really? It seems there are two people in the same body, switching moods in the blink of an eye.
"Who are you?" you dare ask him, not looking away.
"Just someone very lonely," he answers matter of fact. "I'm sorry I scared you. I'll never, ever hurt you. I was just taken aback. It is so exceptional for me to meet someone who challenges me. In fact, you're only the second one in a very, very long time. But you are so very different. I had not expected that of you..."
You relax as you feel the tension has abated. You can't help noticing again how his eyes tend to shift with his mood, from black onyx a minute ago to crystal blue now. He's let go of your forearm but is still holding your gaze. You don't know what to say. You don't want to anger him again. You silently pray such a wonderful evening is not going to end on a misunderstanding. You don't want to remember this as yet another rebuke on your long list of disappointments in men and humanity in general. You suddenly feel drained and depressed. "Please," you finally say as you see him still looking into your eyes as if prodding your mind, wanting to know what you're thinking, "just let me out of your car, OK? I'm tired, I need to get some sleep and I obviously disappointed you. I'll call a cab."
He looks pained. "Do you think I will let you go home alone. Of course, I'm driving you. Who do you think I am?" he asks indignantly.
"Sorry...again," you say, wincing. How many times have you had to apologize to men for not being what they want, not doing what they expect of you? If possible, your heart drops a little lower. "I just wanted you to be rid of me. You said it yourself – I'm not what you expected."
"You don't get it, do you?" he asks, grabbing your arm again and shaking it not too gently, anger rising again in his voice. You cringe from his look and he drops his hand immediately, holding up his hands in surrender. "No, obviously, you don't..." he repeats, deep sadness in his voice, and looks away. He seems hurt, his jaw set and his eyes lost in the distance.
"Then explain, Henry, 'cos up until a few minutes ago, I thought there was a connection between us, then suddenly you're that stranger again..." Your voice is barely above a whisper. You seem to have wronged him and you don't even know how.
"We do have a connection, my lady. What I meant by I didn't expect you to be like that is I'm surprised, that's all. This is not wrong, it is just amazing and scary for me."
"Scary? Well, that's rich! I'm the one who's spooked here!" you can't help cut him in.
"I am really scared. This is not just words. See, I'm not used to trusting people. I'm not used to being intimately connected to people. Encounters, yes. I am sociable and love the hustle and bustle of the city. I do enjoy meeting people...for a brief moment and then, they're gone from my life. But you...this is so different! If I let you into my life, if I trust you, it means my life is not going to be the way it was before and yes, that scares me," he states pensively.
"I thought you'd said I was not the only one. So you do trust someone else, don't you?" you prod, trying to grasp the meaning of all this. You're not used to so much complication. Your life is usually so boring, well this seems a little bit too much.
"I do. I trust a few people. She's among them. So very different... Except for the bullheadedness, I think."
"Hey!" you cry out indignantly. "I'm not bullheaded!"
He chuckles and says under his breath: "Not so very different in fact!"
"Well, you know, maybe she could explain to me what all this is about. You do realize you sound very much like those mysterious adventurers in the trashy romantic stories I read?" You stop short and blush. How stupid are you? You could slap yourself for being so dumb. What is he gonna think of you now?
He's lifted an eyebrow and is repressing an obvious desire to laugh. "So, if I get that right, you read trashy romantic stories?" he teases you.
You slap his arm. You realize the tension has thawed and you too are back where you started – friendly and close. "What if I do?" you ask him defiantly.
"It's fine by me. I write graphic novels with warrior princesses and villains so I can connect to your desire to escape the blunt reality," he offers. You smile at him. "If I may be so bold as to ask for more details," he adds, "what kind of romance do you favor?"
You blush some more. "Come on," he prods gently. "I won't tell anybody..." He flashes you his Cheshire cat grin and you can't help laughing.
"Vampire stories..." you mutter. You see him pause and tap the cleft of his chin with his finger tip as if thinking it over. "I knew it was a bad idea to tell you." You're angry at yourself. Now he's sure to see you as the idiot you are. Grown woman, living alone and reading trashy vampire stories!
"No, not at all. Interesting coincidence though..." he adds mysteriously.
"What coincidence?"
"Nothing, my dear, really, forget about it. Except of course that I don't mind you reading vampire stories at all. In fact, we can talk about them as much as you want." He seems to be enjoying himself immensely.
You eye him suspiciously. "Why?" you blurt out not too gently. Is he making fun of you?
"Oh, come on, don't get mad, young lady. I mean it. It might give me ideas for my own stories. I'm sure you know a lot about vampires, what they look like, their powers and weaknesses... I'd love to discuss them." He seems genuine enough.
"Do you mean you want to see me again?"
"'Course. There's no way we're going to waste this static between us, don't you think?" He lifts his eyebrows expectantly.
"'Course not..." You're not sure of where this is leading you but yes, you can feel the static between you two. It feels good to be with him, near him. You don't want to lose that tho' you don't feel comfortable yet with his changing moods. It'll probably require some getting used to.
"So..." he asks expectantly, still looking at you. "Shall I get you home?"
"Yes, sure. Thank you. I'd love that." You smile at him and he smiles back, his eyes a cornflower blue now. You feel yourself melt – again! - and he senses it because he tugs you gently towards him as he starts the car. You settle against his shoulder and breathe in the smell that is so uniquely his, both fresh and spicy, hoping this is the start of a very long friendship, for want of a better word.
The elevator dings open and you shake yourself of your daydreaming. You enjoyed every minute of that night and you wish you'd not said you were tired and he'd have stayed instead of walking you to your doorstep and kissing you good night. But what's done is done and you might see him again one day if he ever remembers telling you he wanted to spend more time with you, because, let's face it, he probably has other fish to fry. Or to put it more accurately, you tell yourself tho' you know you shouldn't be so cynical because really, it's not good for your self-esteem, why should he settle for today's special when he can have anything he wants on the menu. Hey! Why are you suddenly thinking about food? This sounds so sarcastic... Well, to be true to yourself, you have to admit it's typically you.
You wince and try to concentrate on the evening ahead. You have decided against going home after moving here such a short time ago and as you're new, you have nowhere to go except to your very empty apartment. You've not even bought yourself a tree this year. It didn't feel sensible as you haven't even finished unpacking yet and the apartment is a mess. It did feel fine before but now it's Xmas night, your heart drops.
You turn the key and get inside. Then you realize something is wrong. Your heart skips a beat. You double-check what you've just done. Yes, you're positive the door was locked but then how come there's light streaming from your living room? You get hold of an umbrella in the hall and walk cautiously towards the light. Right next to the window, a small Xmas tree is standing with all the trimmings and decoration. You can even see a gift underneath the tree and what looks like a letter. You look around if you see someone but hear or see nothing. Your heart is beating very fast and your hand is on your cell phone as you're pondering the decision to call the police. You're even thinking about getting back the way you came from and calling for help but something draws you to the letter. You open it and read, written in a very elegant and old-fashioned penmanship, those few words: "Pardon me for intruding upon your home but I would not have forgiven myself had I let you spend your first Xmas here alone. I hope this tree will bring some joy to you on this Xmas Eve. The gift is something warm to wear should you agree to accompany me to the Midnight Mass. I will come and get you shortly before it starts. Here is my phone number should you decide not to come. Yours truly, always, Henry"
Did you enjoy it? More to come...