19
Nikki
The more he opened himself up to me, the more vulnerable he became only for me, the more I realized why I let my dreams of him—they were of him, he confessed—haunt me all day. I wasn't just intrigued and dazzled by him. I was in love with him. But I couldn't be. It was so weird. He eventually got over his weird infatuation for some soprano back in Paris (in what's now the Palais Garnier), Christine Daae, but…he was a friend of my mom's. My mom was more in his league—talented, famous, older. I was just some black kid with her hands in her pockets. This was crazy. When he finished explaining the tale of Christine, how he started Phantasma and how it grew into some really cool empire and how he met my mother, he said, "And now I'm here, alone as ever, and I just spilled my secrets to a child."
A child? That's how he thought of me? That was a little saddening. "I'll be eighteen in a few weeks. I'm not really a child, dude. I respect your privacy. I won't tell anyone. Who is there to tell? No one."
He ignored me. He just stood up and staggered to a red curtain covering something. A mirror with a huge crack in the middle. He stared at himself, the uncovered part of his face expressing sadness and loneliness so strong that it was contagious. I stood up and went to the mirror with him. I touched his hand that held the wooden frame of the mirror. He turned his wrist and I let him hold it. I felt it enclose in the calluses that was his right hand. He was a musical genius, architect, magician and contractor and he did so many things with one set of hands. Centuries of work showed. If I could communicate feelings as strong and comforting as love through my skin cells, I guess he wouldn't have said, "I'm a monster, Nicole."
I slipped my hand out of his grip and touched the uncovered part of his face. He sighed and I felt wetness splash onto the side of my palm. He was crying, and I didn't realize until I tasted my own tears that I was, too. "I love you," I whispered.
He stiffened. "What did you say?"
I stepped in front of him, stood on my toes and lifted myself by holding onto his shoulders and kissed him.
He was shocked at first and remained stiff, trembling a little at the same time. Eventually I tightened my grip on him and was off the ground, because he was holding me. Gently and soothingly he tangled his fingers in my hair as I took a breath through my nose and licked his lips. He opened his mouth a little and started to suck on my lower lip. He wasn't crying anymore.
Y'know, I never kissed a guy before. Ezra is a boy dog and licks my lips because they taste like food, but so does Doris. One time Lavon and I pretended to be a couple in front of some psycho hose beast who was in love with him, but all I did was call him babycakes, hold his arm and lean my head on his shoulder. It was hard to keep a straight face doing that. Dante and I hugged all the time but even though I was tempted when I was a kid we never did anything else. And here I was, holding onto and being held by a 180-something-year-old zombie-ghost-thing, who whispered after catching his breath, "I love you, too." He held me a little tighter. "From the moment you stepped into the office, I loved you."
I raised an eyebrow. "Really?" That was super weird.
He was embarrassed and tensed. I chortled and kissed him briefly. "Cool."
The poor dude was so nervous but not reluctant. He kissed me again but not deeply enough for me. I held onto him and deepened it. Man, I was in love.
I don't know how the hell it happened, but somehow within seconds without opening my eyes or breaking the kiss, I was on a cushioned platform that wasn't a bed but was comfy enough. We released each other's lips and I realized my legs were spread and his hands were on my bent knees. "My angel," he breathed. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you, but I fear if I go on I may not have the ability to stop."
The lust in his eyes was more powerful than the reluctance. There was no denying him, whether I wasn't up for it or not. Don't worry, I was so totally into it and I wasn't scared, reluctant or anything that even made me think too hard about it. "Do it," I hissed, unzipping my hoodie and hurriedly throwing it on the floor.
Never leaving my gaze, he threw off his black jacket as I kicked off my shoes somewhat hurriedly, because we were both crazy eager. Before I knew it, we were naked in each other's arms, breathing heavily and perspiring with anticipation. "Ready?" he panted.
"Don't hold back, go!" I exclaimed.
That's how I lost my virginity.