"I'm Christian." His voice was low and raspy.
"Oh, I thought you might have been, the number of times you yelled out God."
"No, no I mean my name is Christian."
"Oh, right. Sorry!" She giggled. "Well I'm Anastasia."
"You should get it changed to Anaesthesia, the way you just made all my pain go away."
"Well that's certainly one line I've never heard before." Her sarcasm was veined with affection. She liked this man. Whoever he was, wherever he came from, she liked him.
The rhythm of their breath was still quite fast, their bodies doused with a shiny layer of moisture. The morning light ventured curiously through the curtains, the events of the morning were left a mystery to those on the other side of them.
"So I know I probably should have asked you this before we…" He grabbed her butt, making her stutter. "But how on earth did you end up in my bed?"
"Um," He paused awkwardly, feeling that this topic would not be a strong point of her affection to him. She was such a well-kept woman, her room was immaculate, her body perfectly pruned. Her appearance was the polar opposite of his. Her behavior in bed however, was an entirely different story.
She noticed the nervous look in his eyes and pulled away, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and unease. His beard made it difficult to decipher his expression but it did not do him harm. She found it strangely comforting, although she could not work out exactly how.
"Don't worry, it's not like I can say I was disappointed to find you here."
Her comment encouraged him a little, however not enough to tell her the truth about where he had really come from. "I was just walking down the street and I heard people yelling to get off the pavement because there was a mad man wandering around. So I dove for cover… and this was the closest cover I found."
"Well I'm glad my open window was able to be of assistance to you." She smiled, she was glad her window had been of assistance to both of them. It took considerable effort for her to pull herself apart from him but she knew she could not put off her real life any longer. "I hate to end this so soon but have a meeting in twenty minutes." She sighed, pulling on her underwear, which, much to his delight and impatience, made her body look devilishly desirable.
As she dressed he realized he was in a bit of a dilemma. He had lost his clothes in his rush to get off the street but he was now required to dress himself. She suddenly became aware of this issue and, with a giggle, threw him a short, white bathrobe.
"Really? You want me to be seen leaving your house and walking away down the street in this?" He laughed and snuggled himself in it. It was soft and again he caught the scent of strawberries.
"That can be your punishment for breaking and entering, Mr Christian."
"Oh, you want to punish me do you? I think there might be other ways in which that could be done." The sly look on his face made her heart beat a little faster. She knew exactly how she wanted him to punish her.
She finished dressing and led him down a hallway and into a large open plan kitchen. A wide bench stretched most of the length of the room. A rack of ornate wooden spoons and other kitchen implements was suspended from the ceiling above the clear space for food preparation. Something about that bench aroused him. He knew there was more for him to see and do in this kitchen than he would do this morning.
Picking up a set of keys, a wallet and a banana, she set out to the door. As she opened the door he leaned in and bit her left ear lobe. She liked that, she liked that a lot. "Well I had a good time this morning Christian." She said with a sort of forced formality shielding her deep longing for the morning to continue the way it had started.
"So did I, Anastasia." He purred. And with that, still in the bathrobe, he stepped with, comedic confidence from the doorstep and off down the road.
He heard her car engine drive away from him in the opposite direction. To her, he knew this marked the end of the story. He, however, had a rather different plan. It's time, he thought to himself, I've lived this way for long enough.
He continued walking with a renewed vigor, for he had finally made the decision to move to the next phase of his life. You see, Christian Grey was not a homeless man. In no way was he economically challenged or disadvantaged. Born into billions of dollars, he passed through high school in a cloud of weed smoke, bow ties and chai tea. At the age of twenty-six he had simply made the decision to liquidate himself and spend a period of his life with nothing so as to come to closer, more intimate terms with nature before starting work on his philosophy novel.
Today at the age of twenty-eight, he finally felt that he had reached the status of relationship with nature that would allow him sufficient insight into the world he endeavored to capture with his words. So his feet were taking him not back to his dumpster but to the bank where lay his fortune and his future.
Today, he thought, I shall shed this bathrobe and trade it for a suit, as has been my destiny for all of space and time.