Chapter 28: Vacation
A/N: Here it is, the first half of the long-awaited vacation chapters. Sorry it took so long for it to be released, I was dealing with life and it stifled my drive and ability to write. The good news is that I already have the next few chapters mapped out so writing them won't be complicated. Hope you all enjoy it!
Along the ride to the destination, you sit anxiously in the passenger seat, fiddling with the locket around your neck. You'd convinced yourself that you'd only put it on for special occasions but you just haven't been able to keep from wearing. Even if you don't wear it then you'd rather have it with you at all times.
According to John, the place was located a little ways out on the outskirts of Brussels. You haven't seen much of the surrounding town yet but you suppose there's certainly time to do so once everything's settled. From what you gather, you headed to a cabin and that cabin was blissfully isolated. Likely for privacy's sake. By your estimate, it should take about forty minutes to drive out to it.
Apparently, there's a six hour difference in Belgium than New York. Since you and John boarded the flight around eight in the morning, it was already early afternoon in Belgium.
After some time, the four wheel drive eventually slows to a halt in front of a cabin located in an area of land that can be seen entirely as nothing but woodlands. The cabin isn't technically deep out in the woods but contains an abundance of nature all around the perimeter of the land. The landscape encompassing it was truly beautiful. You don't see nature like this in New York so it's not hard to appreciate the picturesque sight. Even in the winter months, the outdoors flaunts its vibrant landscape and woodlands. However, due in part to that fact, the majority of the surrounding trees had been stripped of their leaves and color. As a result, the frozen rain on the trees had created a stunning winter wonderland type of effect all around the encompassing area of the cabin.
There's a considerable mountain range in the foreground and the view of it from where you were was really breathtaking. You're not used to rural settings such as this and the look of the place was enough to quell any potential fears you have about residing in the woods for a period of time.
As you're climbing out of the truck, the second your feet touch the ground your body immediately gives into the strong urge to stretch. Your body felt as though it had been holding tension the entire seven hour journey. Inhaling deeply, the air smelled fresh. Remarkably, the outside air isn't as frigid as you thought it would be, the wind still carried a pleasant chill however. Though it's not enough to dash your excitement.
You just love the experience of being in a new place. The feeling it induced was so intense that it made you dizzy. You'd always wanted to travel as it was one of the many things on your extensive bucket list. Truthfully, without John you're skeptical that you might not ever be able to travel anywhere even if you graduated college and secured a job in your field. Already, you know that the trip was going to provide you all the peace and tranquility that you can rarely obtain back home.
While John took charge of retrieving the luggage from the truck, you chose to begin your exploration of the lodge that smelled of clean wood and fresh pine. Stepping onto the porch, you hear the boards creak from underneath the weight of your feet. Gripping the handle, you push the door open with minimal effort. The interior was adequately furnished and absolutely gorgeous. The décor is a healthy mixture of rural and modern to create a comfortable atmosphere. It looked just as you conceptualized but somehow better at the same time. Ornate hues of light brown, dark brown, and white took up most of the lodge. The elements of wood and stone only added to the aesthetic. Lastly, the rustic cabin was moderately sizable and certainly enough for two people.
Even with it being somewhat smaller than what you were expecting, it still gave off a certain openness. The place gave off a much different sense of place as opposed to John's massive place of residence. You considered it a way to disconnect from the hustle and bustle of busy New York and you prefer it for that reason alone. That's even more reason to believe that this little slice of paradise was sent straight from God.
Traversing the hardwood floors curiously, you stepped into the space obviously meant to be the living room. The sectional sofa looked soft to the touch and you ran a hand over its surface. While you liked the furniture, the huge fireplace mounted in the wall really had your full attention. You can see why people are attracted to a more contemporary way of living - the physical representation of simplicity.
You wasted no time venturing into various places throughout the small lodge. With your exploration you made a great number of observations. The first being that the kitchen area contained a wood stone and dining area where a small table was situated. Next, the back patio contained a built-in firepit along with a private terrace and brazier area. Last and most interestingly, there was a nearby clearwater pond some twenty feet away from the cabin. That really excited you for some reason and you couldn't understand why.
Shortly afterwards, you went from room to room exploring and found that you were swooning further over the nature-centric escape. How could the place be even more inviting than it already was? You knew one thing though - when it came time to leave John will probably have to drag you out kicking and screaming. You were tempted to snap a hundred pictures and send them straight to the group chat but you suppose that there'll be a lot of time for that later on. Besides you haven't even properly settled in just yet.
From your observation, you counted two bedrooms; a master and a slightly smaller adjoining. The master bedroom contains more sophisticated neutrals and was visually pleasing and not just from a decorative standpoint either. While the space was smaller than John's bedroom, you don't feel boxed in. The windows allow for natural light to seep in. There's a miniature fireplace on the adjacent wall. A hanging chandelier type light was prostate over the bed that added to the overall warmth and you thoroughly enjoyed the sight. All in all, the accommodation was more than quaint and cozy enough for your standards.
As you're walking back into the living room, John was bringing in the last of the bags. Soon his placid orbs met your own.
"This place is amazing. How did you even find out about it?" You gushed.
The man quietly watched as you excitedly bounced all over the place, remarking all of the things you'd seen so far. The amused glint in his eyes was discernible. He knew how animated you could be when you were wound up. You couldn't help it, it was hard to contain your happiness especially in a time like this. The adrenaline combined with all the joyful energy practically had you bouncing off the walls, which was a feat since you were running on about three hours of sleep from the day before. He'll indulge your enthusiasm for as long as it wears on. At times it's still shocking just to see how attuned he was to everything concerning you.
As John bent to secure a grip on one of the larger bags in an effort to carry it into the shared bedroom, you both paused as an unexpected knock sounded at the door behind him. You look to John for any sort of clarification but it doesn't seem as though he's expecting anyone. With that observation squarely in mind, the man sets the bag back on the floor and opens the door.
Despite the fact that your view was mostly blocked by John's body, you can easily make out two voices, both of which are different in tone and cadence. But one thing was clear, the voices are distinctly female. Immediately, you take notice of the thick accent coating the voice but you can't exactly place it at this point in time. There were bits and pieces of the conversation you think you can decipher but despite your brain working overtime, you've come to the conclusion that you still don't understand a thing. So you just stand there flustered and confused at what's happening.
The language barrier created an obvious problem for you, whereas John was having no difficulty at all. Judging on how John spoke with the pair at length, it would seem that John was well-versed in the language and could speak it quite well. First Russian now this, just how many languages did he speak? He was starting to make you feel a little inept. You quickly realized that your understanding was extremely limited as you attempted to make out the ensuing conversation. Though it was apparent that he was familiar with them to some degree. By your own estimate, you'd even imply that they were used to dealing with each other by how congenial the conversation seemed.
Eventually, you come to the conclusion that you can't do much but stand there clueless as the communication was taking place. In an attempt to get a closer look, you tried peering around John's body as if that would somehow help the situation.
At your seemingly subtle approach, in a refined movement John stepped aside allowing a full view of your person. While it was a move you weren't expecting, it provided you a much better view of the visitors. The visitors turned out to be two women, one older and one significantly younger. The older woman looked to be in her late forties, early fifties while the younger woman looked to be around your age or maybe even younger. You wondered if the pair lived nearby or somewhere in the city. Though it was likely the latter since you don't recall seeing any sort of residence on the forty minute trek out to the cabin.
Regardless, the sight of you appeared to surprise the women. Obviously they weren't expecting your lover to be accompanied by a companion. Or you think that perhaps they weren't expecting two people to cohabit the lodge for the time being. Whether or not John had resided in the cabin before, clearly he hadn't brought along any guests.
When the initial shock wears off, the older woman starts to formally address you in a kind, eager tone. Not wanting to seem as if you weren't convivial, you timidly stepped closer as the woman continued to speak. Once she had her say, she looked at you with hopeful eyes. Unable to offer a response due to the lack of comprehension, you looked to John for some understanding. With this action, it was made clear that you didn't speak or understand the language being spoken. Based on your bewildered reaction, the woman seemed to catch on quickly and the foreign language dissipated completely.
"Hello. My name is Martine and this is my daughter Nathalie." She introduced, gesturing to the other woman standing next to her. "Our family has owned this land for many generations. Please forgive the sudden intrusion but we saw that you had arrived and we thought to take the opportunity to formally meet."
Oh.
Never once had you taken into consideration that perhaps the cabin was built on someone else's land and that it had to have caretakers. That explained why such a secluded place was so well kept.
Nodding, you give her a greeting and your name over a brief handshake. "It's nice to meet you."
"Have you found the lodge to your liking?" She inquired.
"Oh yes. It's amazing."
"I'm pleased to hear that. We like our guests to feel welcome and comfortable during their stay. Should a problem arise, please do not hesitate to inform us."
"Of course." You nod.
She respectfully inclines her head at the two of you, the kind smile she exhibited gave you a warm feeling.
Not long afterwards, the pair subsequently took their leave and you waited until the door closed behind them to address your lover once more. "They're so nice and welcoming. Are they all like that?"
"Certainly not." John replied.
He was probably right. Not everyone that resided in Belgium were as affable as the women and there wasn't a way of telling unless you met them all and you don't think that's possible in any capacity. What was possible however, was you getting the chance to go out and potentially meet more friendly citizens of the country and you gladly mentioned this to your lover.
"There's a whole list of things I want to do!" You explain, retrieving a small travel booklet of the country you bought before you came.
Flicking through the small book, you began eagerly rattling off all the interesting things you wanted to do. In the little research you managed to do on the small country before you arrived, so far you've only been able to remember surface level things. That didn't disappoint you - it can't be helped that your brain just chooses to work like that sometimes.
John doesn't interrupt you nor insert what he thinks of your over-enthusiasm. He merely observed you in that composed, tolerant manner you were used to.
You're in the middle of rambling on until a thought occurs to you in the moment and you turn to gauge his reaction once more. "Wait! I want to change first!" You proclaim.
"Go ahead." He said, motioning for you to take your bag.
Not wanting to waste any time, you grabbed the bag and practically dashed to the bedroom.
As you reenter the room, you find yourself studying it some more. The bag slipped from your shoulder and fell to the floor with a soft thump.
You lay across the bed on your stomach, the linen smelled freshly washed and you breathed in the scent deeply. Admittedly, it's much softer than you expect and you melt right into the cool mattress. The bed, in spite of its modesty, was comfy. As you're rolling over, it's at this point that you actually take notice of the huge square mirror on the ceiling above the bed. That was certainly an interesting place to put it.
Truthfully, you can't believe you're in a place like this, in a whole other country. You already love everything about the trip despite not actually doing anything just yet. Perhaps you were meant to experience the cabin life much earlier in life. Many times throughout your life you'd envisioned traveling and visiting different countries and now that it had finally come to fruition it all still felt so surreal.
At first, you didn't have that many misplaced concerns regarding whether or not you'd like the place or have any problems regarding any language barriers. But after that encounter with those women, you realized that you were as prepared as you thought.
You laid for nearly five minutes before lethargy began pulling at your limbs heavily, making it hard for you to concentrate on staying awake. As a consequence, your eyelids have started to become too heavy to keep open. Blinking, you rubbed at them to no avail. This type of drowsiness can't be avoided. Under the guise of resting them, your eyelids slowly begin to close. Faster than you can comprehend, your consciousness slips away like a thief in the night. And in a breath you're whisked away to dreamland.
The first thing John had noticed was how strangely quiet the cabin had become. The silence served as the first indicator since the second indicator was that it had already been some time since he'd sent you to the room to put away your luggage. The third being that you did not return to happily bombarded him with requests.
Coming to find you sprawled across the bed was not the least bit surprising. In fact, the sight of you collapsed on the bed was one he expected to see sooner rather than later. He gazed down at you intently. From there he summarized that exhaustion must've hit you hard all at once. None of this shocked him in the slightest.
During the duration of travel, he observed that you didn't get a lick of sleep over the course of the seven hour flight and was in all likelihood running purely on adrenaline and excitement.
You'd likely be out for hours. In fact, he counted on it. In the meantime, there were other things to be done until you eventually awoke.
As you blink yourself awake, confusion is swift to overtake you. Even with your eyes now open, it took you a minute to will yourself up from the bed, mostly because your body didn't want to cooperate with anything that involved leaving the bed in the first place. After you sit up, you have to take a minute to consider where you are. That's how confused you are. There's a second where everything comes rushing back and an overwhelming sense of displeasure takes over. You glance towards the windows. With the binds half pulled, you can plainly see that the sun had completely set.
Oh no.
The very first day of your vacation and you slept through half of it.
Immediately, you want to cry.
You weren't at all intending to fall asleep. That 'resting your eyes' shit is dangerous and you should've known not to pay with that, especially when it's happened to you so many times before. And where was John? You at least would've gotten away with it if your lower had come to check on you and you know he's seen you at some point. The sheets being placed over you were a dead give away that he'd been here and seen you. He's way too attentive not to check on you when you're out of his sight. Whatever the case, you're highly disappointed that the man hadn't seen fit to wake you up.
Presumably, you couldn't have been asleep for more than a few hours. You just can't believe that he allowed you to sleep precious time away like that.
You leapt from the bed in a huff and pad irritatingly down the hall. "John!" You call out.
As you stomp into the living area, he was nowhere in sight. Neither was he in the kitchen.
The earnest commodity had been made even more homely and cozy visually than when you first arrived. There's even a few lit candles that smelled of burning pine and sage that gave it a soothing atmosphere. The fireplace was lit and emitting an inviting warmth you don't think you've felt before. Not only that but the sound of the wood popping was notably satisfying.
At that moment, John comes through the door with blocks of firewood tucked underneath his arm. The eye contact between you and him was instantaneous. There's bits of white flurries along the surface of his coat and boots, the latter of which he removes and leaves by the door. The firewood was then placed near the fireplace and he kneeled in front of it to check the temperature of the burning fire.
As entrancing as the image was, you weren't about to let his previous actions slide. "Why did you let me sleep?"
The question didn't dissuade John in the slightest, he remained immersed with the hearth and didn't even bother to spare you a glance. The deliberate deferred response only served to aggravate you further but you didn't think he cared.
"You were tired." The man finally acknowledged.
"So! You should've woke me up. And look…it's dark outside now. I wanted to go into town."
The man was nonetheless still unfazed by your impassioned query.
"A winter storm is set to approach within the hour. There would be no time."
"What? But we just got here!" You shriek, wholly taken aback.
"Once the storm passes we will have ample time to do whatever it is you would like." He explained, standing from his crouched position and regarding you.
With an upset huff, you flop down on the couch, a deep pout set firmly on your face.
It could be said that you were acting like a spoiled child but you didn't care much at all. All you knew was that nothing was going your way and you hated every bit of it.
The pout doesn't fall from your face when John approaches. "What would you like to do at this point in time?"
At this point in time, you're too stubborn to answer. You sit there continuing to pout, arms angrily crossed over your chest until your stomach growls loudly and cuts through the act.
An act you were sure you could maintain until one of the man's eyebrows slowly rose.
It doesn't take long for you to drop it all together. Any sort of annoyance you feel can't hold a candle to any growing hunger.
"I'm hungry." You murmur softly.
Your cheeks flush out of embarrassment as the man gives a poignant response of, "As you wish."
"You know…when I told you I was hungry, I didn't think you'd order everything they had." You commented as you incredulously overlooked the table piled with prepared food.
Following a brief phone call, food was delivered to the cabin not long after John placed the order. Not only are you surprised at how fast they delivered the food but you're shocked that there's a food delivery service at all. Obviously people in other countries can order food and have it delivered to their house but you just weren't expecting this. Frankly, there's not even enough shock in the world to show looking at the spread of food that's just been delivered.
The man made sure that there were plenty of food options for you to choose from.
"Not to sound ungrateful but I don't even know what half of this is."
It was a truthful observation but in spite of that, you have to give credit where it's due. Literally everything on the table smelled wonderful. The only problem was that your brain had a hard time getting you to consume dishes you weren't all that familiar with.
Seeing as you're going to be in the country for some time, you might as well get used to eating the country's cuisine. You really don't have much of a choice. Since you seriously doubt that there was a McDonalds anywhere near this place.
"What's this?" You question, pointing to one of the containers.
"Stoemp."
"Stoemp? It just looks like mashed potatoes with other foods mixed into it." You reason.
"That's because it is."
"Oh."
Well, that settled that.
Another dish in your direct line of view looked familiar at least.
"Are these fries?"
"They're not typically called 'Fries' here." John clarified.
"What are they called then?"
"Frites." He said simply.
"That's basically the same thing. I hardly see the difference." Okay then. You guess the fancier sounding way somehow made it better but you don't openly question it.
"Some of these are really weird food combinations. Baked chicken with fries and applesauce on the side?" You commented. "Seriously?"
You had a hard time believing that it was an actual thing.
He turned an inquiring gaze onto you. "Would you have preferred rabbit stew then?"
Hearing that changed your perspective entirely.
"On second thought, I'm good with this. Thank you."
And with that, you and John settled into the routine of eating the tremendous dinner. Despite your ravenous hunger, you actually take your time eating as opposed to wafting it down. Although you're quite surprised at the variety of dishes placed before you as you stared down at one of the plates in your line of view. You'd heard of Swedish meatballs before but not Belgium meatballs. The meatballs were covered in a thick tomato sauce, something you hadn't seen before or were at all familiar with. While they tasted hearty and full of flavor, you were quick to note that the meatballs didn't taste like the one back home.
Then again, Belgium was a European country. And due in part to that, you should expect no less. From what you gather, Belgium cuisine isn't really all that universally known besides the chocolate and waffles.
After having appeased your hunger by trying nearly all the food, the restlessness in your stomach finally dissipates. Both you and John took up residence in the living room, sipping mugs of hot chocolate, quietly watching through the window as the snow pelted the ground in a thick blanket that's just as blinding as the sun. The hot cocoa warmed your belly pleasantly.
"You know what's crazy? It doesn't really look like a snow storm to me. New York has regular snow falls that are way worse than this."
He peered out the window for a fleeting moment, as if to corroborate your remark.
"Oftentimes, weather climates can be categorized differently due to geography. What can be seen as a snow storm in Belgium can be seen as something else entirely in New York." He explained after a pointed drink of his steaming mug.
"Belgium is not usually known for its snow. What you're witnessing is a rare occurrence."
"I take it you've traveled here a lot?"
"On business." He gravely remarked.
Without asking, you think you have a clear idea of what sort of business he was referring to even without him feeling the need to expand on it.
Nonetheless, the snow continued falling.
"You're anxious…irritable." He mentioned, regarding you keenly.
So when he made the notion you didn't deny it. "Yeah…I know we arrived sort of late but I really wanted to go out and start exploring the nearby town before it got dark. And now I won't get the chance." You shrugged.
"We will have extended time to do whatever you'd like."
You scoffed. "How? We'll probably be snowed in for days with all that's coming down."
He gave you a peculiar look mixed with his usual calm mien, sitting his cup aside. "I wouldn't worry about it."
Then his tall, prominent build rose from the couch and moved to withdraw from the room altogether.
Following suit, you jumped from the sofa and trailed after him like a whining puppy that wanted attention. It's no secret that you craved his attention more than any others. You fell in step behind him easily as he padded calmly into the bedroom, only pausing briefly to place a few logs into the small fireplace and ignite it with a match.
Once that was done, John strode into the bathroom and you followed right behind him. What compelled you to do so, you weren't exactly sure.
He walked straight up to the oval-shaped tub that was brilliant porcelain. Surprisingly, it looked large enough to hold two. While it's not a familiar bathing setup but one you can still appreciate nonetheless. You watched his movements and it became rather apparent that his intention was to man turns on the taps allowing for the tub to be filled with steaming hot water. If a hot shower was satisfying, you can only imagine that a scaling hot bath was equally if not more satisfying.
John looked back at you placidly and your mouth went cotton dry even after consuming all that liquid chocolate. The silence that fell upon the bathroom was deep and profound.
With little to no hesitation, the man set about removing his clothing. As the fabric slid off of his broad muscled shoulders, you stood rooted to the spot. Watching quietly as he peeled off layer after layer, revealing the smooth, dewy skin underneath. You're almost certain that he wasn't trying to beguile you but still your body can't help but heat up at the prospect of him undressing directly in view of you. And in doing so had inspired swift arousal in your loins. It shouldn't be that surprising, considering you get aroused just seeing him do the most normal of things. At this point, you both should be well past the point of being embarrassed to see each other in the nude.
Straightaway, your eyes peruse over the occasional scar from a long healed wound. Some looked more serious than others. None of it shocks you. He's lived a dangerous life and probably had more near death experiences than he can count. Each scar can tell you a story. He remained a man of honor and merit and that was never up for questioning.
John enters the tub gracefully, switching off the taps as he's getting settled in the heated water. He settles against the back of the tub with a long, quiet exhale.
Gingerly approaching the now occupied bathtub, you stared down at the man reclining. Crouching down, you observed how John's chestnut eyes were now closed, lashes resting along his cheekbones. You discovered from kissing him that under that neatly groomed facial hair, the hired gun possessed a defined masculine jawline. If only he'd drop the otherworldly impassiveness and give you a genuine smile.
Due to the temperature of the water, his skin had taken on an uncharacteristic flush while in the water you established as your gaze swept over his features.
He didn't appear bothered by your continued presence and you took that as permission to stay. In the end, you decide to ignore your lustful intent in favor of being helpful.
You're fully aware that bathing was a deep and personal undertaking. Most of all, it gives a person some time alone with their feelings and thoughts. He's washed you many times before but you can't ever say that you'd gotten the chance to return the favor. You begin to work the shampoo into his soft, silky hair. All that mattered was that he trusted you to do it.
There were more than enough instances where he'd done the same to you and now you wanted to do the same for him. It's a very nuanced experience for you.
He took care of you all the time and you'd been awaiting any opportunity to take care of him in turn. As far as you were concerned, the man deserved that and more. Given the fact that it's so easy to romanticize everything when it comes to him. Even if you didn't know much about anything else - you know you loved him with all your heart and soul. In the midst of being pampered and being given his generosity, it was so easy to forget to shower him with that same affection and generosity in turn. If only you hadn't seen him in action, you'd never have never been able to put together that the man was a hired killer.
Without warning, a thought occurred to you. "Is it okay if I wash your hair?"
He dipped his head forward in a nod.
You began the process of applying shampoo into his dark tresses in even amounts, gently massaging his scalp with your fingertips. Your fingers trailed lovingly through his soft, silky hair. You squeezed a dollop of conditioner into your palm and worked it into his strands nicely. As a black woman, you knew better than anyone that a good conditioner was essential. Besides, his hair looks as though it retains moisture really well. You reached over to grab the showerhead attached to the side of the tub and used it to rinse his hair. The water streamed down his face in rivets, washing away all the soapy suds.
You took notice that his hair looked a lot longer when it was wet.
You dabbed the small towel along his face to catch the moisture, gazing into his cool, reserved features. In that moment, he locked a soft, discerning gaze unto you. Wearing an expression on his face that you couldn't decipher. Suddenly, the bathroom became unnervingly silent.
You'd unconsciously placed a hand over his beating heart and it was then you saw the tenderness lingering within his eyes. This man of yours…he was something for sure.
Consequently, you wind up blushing when you realize you were in the middle of a stupor and the man was staring directly in your face. You quickly recoiled out of embarrassment and averted your gaze entirely.
With a mortified expression, you retrieved a towel for him to dry off with and he politely accepted it while you refused to meet his gaze.
A rush of air abruptly escaped his nostrils and you faltered at the sound. Was he laughing at you? Purposely? Of course he was.
He strode into the bathroom with all of the sure-footed grace expected from a man of his caliber. The towel wrapped securely around his waist, damp hair stuck to his face. Fortunately, the temperature of the bedroom was balmy and pleasant as a result of the lit fireplace in the corner. He made no effort to don any night clothing, instead choosing to go without.
You watched him lay across the sheets with such languor that you can't recall him doing such a thing any time prior over the duration of the relationship. Never seen him openly display his tiredness. And you can't pretend not to be transfixed by the behavior either. His eyes were calm, normally stoic face relaxed. You don't think you've ever seen him so at peace, exasperated and dare you say…drained. You wouldn't be fooled though, even in his restful state, the man still emitted his habitual countenance under the veil of lethargy. Regardless of his physical body type, he remained infallibly strong beyond reason.
Scarred or not, his lithe physique was truly something to be admired. As far as you were concerned, John's body was a masterpiece. From the man's angular frame to his milky complexion. What other man possessed such supple skin and flowing hair?
A moment of silence soon fell over the space.
You're overlooking the expanse of his skin and suddenly another thought occurs to you in the moment. A thought that had you immediately moving to retrieve a bottle of lotion from your bag.
Aside from the lotion smelling heavily of jasmine and honeysuckle, you didn't think he minded smelling like a woman for a while.
From his place on the bed, John amply followed your actions, his eyes heavily-lidded throughout. Having seen you acquire the moisturizer, your intent should've been made clear to him in that instant. At the very least, you wanted to make your intentions known to him. Shockingly, he still hadn't shown any opposition to those intentions thus far.
You carefully climbed atop his body on the bed, from underneath you his body radiated a solid heat. He didn't ask you to do this, you just felt oddly compelled to do it.
Frankly, you didn't even know where to begin. You're in no way an experienced masseuse but you figure it can't be that hard to give the man a decent massage.
Hovering over him, you gingerly straddled the surface of his back. After squeezing a good amount of the lotion onto your hands, you rub them together to generate some kind of heat. As a primitive measure, you chose to start at his shoulders, hands sliding over them in a soothing fashion. You rubbed the lotion into his skin in diminutive circular motions, kneading the flesh with both hands. As well as massaging upwards toward the base of his neck. Gradually loosening the muscle tension, in slow sweeping motions.
"Does this feel okay?" You asked quietly.
The response from him was a low hum. "It's fine."
From there, you took his permissive response as affirmation that you were doing something right. Although you have to acknowledge that he's firm in places you expect him to be but soft in the places you don't.
Admittedly, that made it relatively hard to determine exactly how much should be applied.
Over time, you maintained a reasonable consistency of squeezing and rolling taut muscles. Pressing rotating thumbs and forefingers into his back. Lightly pressing into the muscle to release the tension there, being especially careful not to exert too much pressure there. The gentle strokes of your hands to further relax him. Your hands slid over the expanse of his firm body, administering steady pressure.
Honestly, you didn't believe you were exerting a substantial amount of uncomfortable force on his spine but you did cautiously work along the path downwards. Soon you felt the muscle tissue there relaxing under your through ministrations. You're shocked at just how much tension he holds in this particular area of his body. For the time being, you focus exclusively on that particular area, breaking away every bit of tension in his body.
He made no noise of contentment or discomfort and thus you had no idea how you were doing in terms of the effectiveness of the massage. Whether you wanted to keep going or cease entirely was currently up for debate. What kind of woman wasn't able to give her significant other an acceptable massage if they needed it?
For some time now, you've been concerned about your inability to adequately return the man's affections in a way that mattered. When it came to you, the man seemed to never hesitate on going above and beyond but when it came time for you to do the same, you felt like you were falling short every time. It puts enormous strain and pressure on you. In addition to that, you can't lie to yourself like you haven't been feeling concerned about being a huge bother to him. Especially, since trouble always seems to find you in every which way since you've been with him. He prevented you from being assaulted in a bathroom and he'd saved you from being trafficked. Just a few days prior, your father was set on antagonizing him. For a while now, you were beginning to wonder if he believed you were worth all the trouble. You'd hate to think that you're a handful for him to deal with.
As a matter of fact…where was all this insecurity coming from?
Why now of all times did it choose to make itself known?
"John…can I ask you something?" You queried.
"What is it?"
"What's something you desire? The one thing you want in the whole world?"
For a brief moment there's a weighted silence in the air but he answers with a candid, "You."
Hearing that, your heart leapt for the third time today. It wasn't exactly the response you were looking for but it still made your heart smile.
"Aside from me?" You pressed on.
Regarding you from the corner of his eye, he seemed to spend more time on considering what his response would be this time. "Retirement." He replied.
If you were honest, it wasn't that surprising to hear from him. You'd always distinctly gotten the impression that he didn't much like what he did.
"John?"
"Hmm."
"What's stopping you…from retiring I mean?"
You couldn't let the opportunity pass without asking - it's a question you think needs to be asked.
"Nothing at the moment…I suppose." He answered, voice remaining monotonous even when discussing his inner desires.
Although, he didn't expand further on "at the moment", as the statement kind of spoke for itself.
That considered, you can't help but wonder - what would happen if the man were to retire? The question started blaring in your mind and your anxiety wouldn't let the question go unanswered. If he got his wish and retired like he wanted…would you even still be a part of his life? What would his retirement mean for him? What would it mean for the two of you? What sort of changes would stem from such a life changing event?
"I know I'm a lot to deal with sometimes…that's why I-"
He stops you before you even get a chance to finish the sentiment. "What would compel you to say such a thing?"
You seldom expressed to him your insecurities and even when you did, it always felt wearisome to bring it to his attention in the first place. Rarely had the man ever found the need to confide in you like you confided in him. But you needed his consolation, you needed solace.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that he can sense the anxiousness in your voice. In fact, he pretty much makes it known with his next choice of words. "Stop thinking so much." "There's nothing to worry about."
He's not really the type to bite his tongue or be untruthful about anything or what he thought. So it's entirely possible to take him at his word. Frankly, you had no choice but to believe him over all else. Perhaps he was right though - it was entirely possible that you were overthinking. And potentially seriously self-sabotaging yourself and your happiness. The anxiousness had been trying to rear its evasive head all day and he'd noticed it. You have to remind yourself that this isn't just a vacation for you, it's one for him as well. And it's supposed to be one where you or you and him can enjoy. It couldn't be marred by your own doing.
The sound of the wind outside began to whistle loudly, adding a sort of felicitous ambiance to the mood of the conversation.
"John, can I ask you one last thing?" You questioned again, desperately seeking the reassurance to quell your overthinking mind. To which no response was provided. Some time had gone by before you posed the question so when you glanced back to his serene profile, you were surprised to find that the man's eyelids were now closed. He'd fallen asleep on you in the midst of the conversation.
You stared down at his sleeping form, before leaning to You press a light-feather kiss to his shoulder.
For a long while, you simply laid across his back and listened to his breathing. The deep breaths were steady and even, the motion of his inhales and exhales pushing you upwards and down. It's enough to lull you into a state of calm and enervation. Soon you found that you were yawning.
With the grogginess from earlier now beginning to return, you decide to follow him in sleep.
Teejaywyatt.1
