Chapter Forty-Seven
"I try not to imagine the end of it all." My voice comes out calm, tired, my fingers tracing the chest of the body I'm lying on. I whisper my confession against his skin, so sincere that I feel the pain of those words as if they had become real after leaving my lips.
Mads lit his cigarette a few seconds ago. He sipped every inch of his habit while his fingers wrapped around my hair, trapped in that detail as if caught in a spider's web. The stillness of those moments that passed in silence, interrupted only by the thin curtains dancing in the breeze, was the opposite of the savagery of minutes before. Minutes ago, when our bodies moved violently against each other when skin scraped against the skin when our lips uttered curses and encouragements to each other. There, curled up on the bed that smelled of incense and mildew, we were two crazy people at the end of their madness, exhausted, something in my chest throbbing awake that went far beyond desire. There was always something more as if the rationality of the melancholy afternoons fed what I had forgotten. At that moment I could think. And lying on his warm body, breathing alive and calm, sharing his addiction like an accomplice to his sin, I found myself hostage to the harsh reality, the fear, the throbbing for him that was no longer about carnal desire.
I touched his chest, trying to eternalize him there, even though I knew my fingers would burn from wanting something so improbable.
I hear his breathing oscillate, white smoke slowly drifting out like a handkerchief. His fingers tangle in my strands with a softness that leaves me numb, exposed and morally intoxicated. With his fingers there, manipulating me beautifully, I could say anything without fear of appearing fragile.
"What makes you think there will be an end?" His rough palm slides from my hair to the smooth layer of my skin, where it feels my partially dry, sweat-salted crotch and finds the curve of a medium-sized breast, and hard nipples responding to his touch. I sigh lightly, my eyes closed as my mind and body are so easily hypnotized and manipulated. I hear him smoke and blow away from me, his husky voice pinching my ears as he says deeply. "What makes you think I can't fight this?" His nose slides across my forehead, his mustache giving me little scratches and shivers.
"There's always an end. And ours seems inevitable." I say, perhaps too realistically to the point of being uncomfortable. Mads takes a deep breath, his chest moving up and down under my face, which finds shelter there. It seemed right, years later, that I should look back with a sense of regret and longing for how it all was, or what it could have been.
"You don't seem as determined as you used to be when you talked to me about the two of us." He fidgets, but not enough to push me away, in fact, his hand touches the back of my neck with a caress that makes me want to purr, to ignore all these thoughts until I'm surprised again. His voice was as firm as ever, but the way he spoke was anything but cold. "What's changed?"
I think of Mads standing there as exhausted as I am, the room dimly lit only by the warm light of the lamp and a modest green beam of light shining on our bodies. I feel the throbbing of my vulva and my slightly sore vagina, my body relaxed, my mind haunted. Inevitable aftereffects of such a mind-blowing fuck.
"I can't say if everything or nothing has changed. It's more accurate to say that it can change." His silence confirms that I might be right. I've never cursed myself so much for being right. "What could change? Maybe people finding out about us. Or your name appearing on all the news channels and me being fired and criticized. Or you can feel guilty or change your opinion of me." My words wandered around the room, emphasizing the silence of our momentary space. Now everything seemed to be, even the muffled music playing downstairs seemed to fade away. Mads and I were an unknown, a question mark, a short bend in the road that I would like to extend.
"Don't worry too much about me, baby girl. If I chose to end it, it would be to prevent all this from spilling over to you, I'd rather be far away, but I'd know you'd be safe". He gets rid of the cigarette by stubbing it out on the surface of a plate partially filled with snacks. I feel his hand slide down to mine and take it to his lips, kissing the knuckle of my finger, smelling it. My body trembles, I can't tell if it's in response to his words or his soft kiss. "Still, I hope it never happens, or I hope I'm selfish enough to take you with me if it's a choice between my life here and you." I smile sadly and close my fingers between his.
"Motel promises." Mads' sonorous laughter elicits mine, even though my thoughts are still on the future.
"They're the craziest and the most serious." I stand up and lie on top of him, my breasts resting on his chest and my legs intertwined with his. His hand brushes a few strands away from my face and I look at him completely, his face serene, his eyes slightly open, analyzing me with meaning. "I don't promise, but I do promise to try to be selfish, for our sake, even if I might care more about you." I take a deep breath, trying not to feel the weight of those words, which also hurt him. I feel his arms around me, hugging my back, my body, holding me there in his warmth. "Don't look at me like that, darling..."
"Like what?" I ask, my voice hoarse as if there's something stuck in my throat. His fingers run along my chest, his lips kissing the top of my head.
"Like it's going to happen tomorrow."
"They're the craziest and the most serious." I stand up and lie on top of him, my breasts resting on his chest and my legs intertwined with his. His hand brushes a few strands away from my face and I look at him completely, his face serene, his eyes slightly open, analyzing me with meaning. "I don't promise, but I do promise to try to be selfish, for our sake, even if I might care more about you." I take a deep breath, trying not to feel the weight of those words, which also hurt him. I feel his arms around me, hugging my back, my body, holding me there in his warmth. "Don't look at me like that, darling..."
"Like what?" I ask, my voice hoarse as if there's something stuck in my throat. His fingers run along my chest, his lips kissing the top of my head.
"Like as if it's gonna happen tomorrow, or if it's gonna happen anyway..."
He says. The silence between us is not uncomfortable, but a kind of wordless exchange. Long minutes pass and our bodies continue this obsession of intertwining. He touches me again, kisses me urgently, and squeezes my skin. His hands explore my whole body, sparing no detail, no piece of skin. I feel him between my thighs again, his hand soaking up my juices as I moan against his neck.
"Yes..." I say, my voice is broken, almost pleading. "I don't want you to change."
"Never." Mads sighs and presses his fingers into my pussy, making me tremble.