Painted Faces

by L.H. Cosway

  “I think blueberries are out,” says Sean. “Nobody has that much time on their hands.”

  “You should just stick with oranges,” Anny speaks up. She's been unusually quiet today. I wonder if she feels happy about her threesome last night, or dirty. Probably dirty. Eric is sitting close by, but she looks like she just wants him to get away from her.

  I catch Colm's eye then, and he's sneering openly at me. I guess he doesn't like the fact that I'm sitting on Nicholas' lap. Even though I still have mixed feelings about our relationship, I'm happy that Nicholas spoke up to him at breakfast. The last thing I need is for Colm to keep chancing his arm all weekend.

  “You're so beautiful,” Nicholas murmurs, pulling me out of my thoughts. His mouth is now a bare inch from my neck. I tense up.

  “I'm sorry, I just had to say it. I want to say it whenever I look at you,” he goes on.

  I turn my head to him and the question I've wanted to ask him for weeks spills out, “Why did you say you didn't care about me?”

  His arms tighten around my stomach and he takes me in silently for a time. “Sometimes we're cruellest to the ones we care about the most.”

  That's true, I guess. I know my parents mean the world to me, but there have been times when I was younger when I said cruel things to them. Mostly because I was hurting on the inside and I wanted them to hurt too. To understand the hurt I was feeling.

  There's a long stretch of silence between us.

  “So you do care about me then?” I ask shakily.

  “I care about you more than I care about myself, Fred.”

  “Don't say that.”

  “It's the truth.”

  I can't seem to think of anything to say in reply, so instead I take one of his hands into mine, interlace our fingers and rest my head back against his shoulder. It's all I can manage right now to show him that I care about him just as much, because words are failing me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Holding Hands and Perfect Days

  For the rest of the day we wander around the festival, taking in as many of the bands as we can. Nicholas stays close to me at all times; there's a lot of subtle, barely there touching going on between the both of us.

  I keep thinking of how he said he cares about me more than he cares about himself. It was wonderful to hear him say that, but it's not exactly what I wanted him to say. I wanted him to tell me that he loves me as much as I love him. Even though he hurt me, I can't deny that my heart still yearns for him.

  When we get back to the camp site that night I don't even bother to argue about sleeping in Nicholas' tent again. I couldn't bring myself to stay where a threesome just took place the night before, but more than that I need Nicholas' presence. I need his eyes on me. I need to be able to put my eyes on him.

  Anny has disappeared off somewhere anyway, so who knows what new bed partners she'll be bringing back with her later on.

  The sexual tension between me and Nicholas is sky-rocketing, but neither of us is brave enough to make the first move, fearing what will happen if we do. We quietly undress and get into our sleeping bags.

  I'm so tired that I can hardly keep my eyes open. I yawn as I lie down and try to find a comfortable position.

  “I had a really great day with you Fred,” Nicholas says quietly.

  “Me too,” I reply.

  He reaches out across the space between our two sleeping bags. “Give me your hand,” he whispers.

  I glance down at his outstretched fingers, then I slowly reach out too and interlock mine with his. He rubs his thumb back and forth over my wrist, and I fall asleep to the calming motion of his touch.

  When I wake we're still holding hands, though a little more loosely. It's early morning and Nicholas is still asleep. I decide to get dressed and go get him some breakfast, since he got mine yesterday. I repeat the same routine as the previous morning in getting washed and dressed and then go to grab us some food. When I get back to camp, the others still haven't gotten up. I put the breakfast down on the grass and zip open the tent.

  When I crawl inside I come face to pecs with Nicholas' naked chest.

  “Hey,” I say, sucking in a breath at how good he looks without a top on. I miss seeing him without his top on.

  He smiles, which makes his face even more handsome. “Hey yourself. I was just coming to see where you were,” he pulls a clean t-shirt on over his head.

  “I got breakfast, come outside,” I tell him and then quickly retreat.

  He follows me out, looking smug. He knows that I liked what I saw of him in the tent just now. He thanks me for the food and we eat in companionable silence.

  “I want to spend the day alone with you Fred,” he says as I'm sipping on some coffee.

  My heart seizes, but I try to disguise it by simply replying, “Okay then.”

  He gives me a grin that could melt the knickers off of a nun. I can feel myself slowly warming up to him again. Oh, what I am I talking about, I'm practically burning for him. I mean, you have to forgive people sometimes, right? He's been open about his reasons for why he pushed me away like he did. He hasn't tried to paint over the cracks; he's exposed them to me in all their twisted, dysfunctional glory, and I have to give him credit for that.

  I make a decision to tell him that I want us to be together again before the end of the festival. Today is the last day and we'll be going home tomorrow morning. That gives me twenty-four hours to summon up the courage.

  Nora is still asleep, so I send her a text message telling her that I'm going to go see some bands with Nicholas today. She writes back about an hour later, asking me if that's a wise idea. I tell her I'll be okay.

  Nicholas and I stroll through the crowds side by side. I want to reach out and hold his hand, like we held hands all through the night. We stop at a jewellery stall and he buys me a silver necklace with a little bird pendant on the end of it.

  “Here, let me put it on for you,” he says, as the woman hands him the chain.

  He turns to me and fastens it around my neck, letting his fingers trail down my skin to admire the pendant.

  “It really suits you,” he comments, eyes on my chest.

  “Thanks, I like it,” I reply on a swallow.

  He takes my hand into his, and his touch relieves me. “Come on, let's go listen to some music.”

  We while away the hours going from stage to stage. It's funny how I had planned on avoiding Nicholas this whole time, yet I've actually found myself constantly in his company. He is such a complex creature, but I'm coming to think that his complexity is what I love about him. He has suffered in his life, and it's created this wonderfully flawed man who I don't think I could live without.

  We sit on the grass and eat crepes for our dinner. He pinches me in the side and tells me I have amazing hips. Hips that you just want to grab a hold of. I tell him to keep his hands to himself, while secretly hoping he doesn't.

  When we've finished eating we head back to the main stage, where Elbow have just started playing. It's late evening, quickly drifting into night time. Nicholas stands behind me and slowly weaves his arms around my waist, pulling my back flush to his front. He rests his head next to mine and sways us to the music.

  The intro to “One Day Like This” begins to play, with a string based melody that seems to touch my heart. The lead singer, Guy Garvey, tells the audience to sing the opening lines. Nicholas starts to turn me in his arms so that I'm facing him. He's not looking at the stage or anywhere else, just at me. Only at me. He pulls me close, his lips nearing my ear.

  The multi-coloured stage lights flash around us, and even though there are crowds of people all about, I feel like I'm in a capsule where there's only the two of us. He stares deep into my eyes and starts singing into my ear. His voice is low and husky. I can feel it pierce right into me, vibrate through me, his beautiful, beautiful voice.

  Even after Guy has taken over from the crowd who had been chanting the lyrics, Nicholas continues singing to me. It's
the most perfect moment of my life; I want to put it a jar and shelve it, keep it forever.

  He asks me what made him behave that way, using words he never says?

  He can only think it must be love..

  He asks me to kiss him like it's the final meal, kiss him like we'll die tonight..

  He says that holy cow he loves my eyes..

  That only now he sees the light..

  He says to throw the curtains wide, that one day like this a year will see him right..

  I pull him closer to me. I hadn't realised it until now, but there are tears streaming down my face. I couldn't be any more in love with this man if I tried.

  He pulls back to look down at me. “I love you Freda,” he breathes. “It feels like nobody in the history of the world has loved another person as much as I love you. I love you so much it hurts. You make me smile, you make me laugh, you make me burn.”

  Woah. What do you say to that? In the end all I can manage is to wipe at my tears and simply whisper, “I love you too. I want you, need you.”

  My voice almost fails me, and then I pull his mouth down to mine. We kiss and it's like fireworks. Shooting stars. The rainbow that comes after a shower. Every single wonderful thing the world ever thought to spit out to counteract all the ugliness it creates.

  His tongue slides over mine, and all I can feel is him, all I can taste is him; all I can hear is the music pulsing through me, the strings and the guitars and the drums. He draws back from the kiss, panting, blue eyes shining just like they shined on the first day I met him.

  His lust filled expression turns into a huge smile, and then his huge smile turns into musical, gorgeous laughter. He puts his hands on either of my cheeks and holds my face up to his.

  “This feels right,” he tells me. “So perfectly right.”

  “It does, doesn't it,” I reply, with a weird nervous laugh that melds into his gorgeous one.

  His hands drift down from my cheeks, his thumbs giving me just the right amount of pressure on the base of my neck so that I feel it all the way down my spine.

  “I belong to you. I've belonged to you since the beginning, since before I even knew that I did,” he rambles. “I'll never hurt you again. I'd rather die than to hurt you.”

  I quiet him with another kiss. We fumble for each other in the dark, surrounded by drunken, happy revellers. My hand travels up his t-shirt and over his abs. His hands travel low to cup my bottom.

  “Let's go back to the tent,” I breathe past his kisses.

  “Good idea,” he says huskily and grips my hand.

  We run through the crowds, Nicholas pulling me along with him faster. I have to stop to catch my breath, but also because I'm giddy with laughter. I hold onto my stomach, unable to stop giggling. He watches me with so much love in his eyes that it almost hurts. I recover and we continue back to the camp site at a more manageable pace this time.

  When we get inside the tent Nicholas opens up his sleeping bag and spreads it out across the floor. He takes my hand and pulls me close to him, placing a soft kiss on my lips, the tip of my nose, my chin, my neck.

  “It's too dark in here,” he whispers and pulls out his phone. He switches on the torch and places it on the floor. “I have to be able to see you.”

  His hands graze down my sides, resting on my hips and squeezing. I gasp into his mouth as he kisses me. He lifts up the skirt of my dress and trails his hand over my inner thigh, before rubbing between my legs.

  “More,” I whisper against his lips.

  His mouth tilts up at one side in a grin. “More what, baby?”

  I don't have to answer him because he's already slipping a finger inside my underwear and sliding it over my wetness.

  “Yes,” I pant. “Like that.”

  He draws his hand away and I almost groan in frustration. He unzips the back of my dress and pulls it over my head, then buries his face in my breasts.

  “I missed these,” he mumbles into my skin, like he's worshipping at an altar.

  He removes my boots, socks and bra, all the while I'm trying to unbuckle his belt and pull down his jeans. I need to feel his skin against mine, taste it. Once I'm wearing nothing but my knickers, he practically rips off his t-shirt and pulls his jeans down the rest of the way. He lowers me carefully onto the outspread sleeping bag and kisses all down my stomach, briefly dipping his tongue into my belly button and then continuing his descent.

  He takes hold of the side of my knickers and pulls them over a little to expose me. He licks me once and yanks the fabric against me hard. I cry out. With deadly eyes he grins and drags them down my legs before pulling them off. He's kneeling between my legs now, his erection starkly obvious inside his boxer briefs.

  I lean forward and kiss his collarbone; a gush of breath leaves him. I run my hand over his toned stomach and he groans. Then I take his cock into my hand and rub him gently. He watches my every movement with parted lips and heavy breathing. The next thing I know I've pulled him down and switched places so that I'm straddling him and he's lying flat on the sleeping bag.

  “Freda,” he says, some kind of warning in his tone.

  I put a finger to his mouth. “Quiet, let me take the lead,” I whisper.

  He visibly swallows and nods, closing his fluttering eyelids for a second. I pull him free of his boxers and raise myself up, before slowly lowering myself down onto his stiff cock.

  “Oh fuck,” he swears and grips me by the hips.

  I start moving up and down slowly on him, then I quicken my pace, working him towards his release as I work my way towards my own. I kiss and lick at him everywhere. I feel powerful like this, like I'm marking him as mine. We've been dying to touch one another for days, the tension has built up to boiling point that it doesn't take long for both of us to come in unison.

  Nicholas holds my wrists tight to his chest as he spurts into me and I shake against him. I collapse on top of him and he turns us so that he's cradling me in his arms. We stay like that for innumerable minutes and then he beings kissing my neck and fondling my breasts.

  “I need you again, honey,” he says softly into my ear.

  I can feel his erection hard and pressing against my bottom. He manoeuvres me onto my hands and knees and positions himself behind me. He caresses my neck and then grabs a tight hold of my pony tail. He pulls on it gently, dragging my face around to look at him. He puts his other hand palm flat to the hollow of my throat and then sinks himself into me.

  God, he feels good from this position, deep inside of me. His gentle tugging on my hair with each thrust of his hips is like pure, undiluted pleasure mixed with the sharp tang of pain. This seems to be his thing, hair and neck holding; almost like pulling, almost like choking, but not quite, always on the cusp. I can tell that he enjoys seeing me from this vulnerable sort of angle because his eyes are practically glowing.

  I never would have thought to ask him to do this, but I know that I like it.

  He fucks me hard and fast, holding onto my hair and neck as I dig my fingernails into the fabric of the sleeping bag. He lets go of my neck to pinch one of my nipples and I moan.

  “That's it Freda, give me your noises. I want them all.” He encourages me.

  I moan again and again until he's coming inside of me and my body feels like liquid. We sink to the floor, lost in one another.

  Later on he uses some tissue paper to clean me, and even though it's a little embarrassing, I still let him. I need the intimacy it brings like I need air to breathe. He puts me in my night clothes and unzips my sleeping bag to throw over the both of us. I bury my face in his neck and fall asleep.

  When I wake up I have three days worth of sweat and last night's sex all over my skin, but I've never felt better. I turn to my side to find that Nicholas had been watching me.

  “How long have you been up?” I ask, rubbing at my sleepy eyes.

  “Only a little while,” he says, leaning forward and giving me a kiss on the forehead. I can hear movement outside th
e tent just before Harry calls out, “Come on you two love birds, rise and shine, we've got to get packed up and out of here.”

  I crawl forward and unzip the tent, before sticking my head out. I yelp when Nicholas pinches my bottom and then I turn around to give him a look of warning. He raises his hands in the air in surrender.

  “What time is it?” I ask, squinting up at Harry in the morning light. He's standing there fully dressed, as the others pack up their camping gear behind him.

  “Almost ten o'clock. Now come on you've already overslept. Tell lover boy to get his arse moving too.”

  My eyes widen infinitesimally in surprise. “Yes, that's right.” He goes on, whispering now. “Sean and I came back early last night and heard everything. You put on quite a show. Well, an audio one at least.” He winks at me.

  I go completely red in the face, tell Harry to shut up (to which he laughs) and then zip the tent closed again. Nicholas and I get dressed. It takes longer than usual because we keep getting caught up with kissing or teasing one another. After that Nicholas packs up the tent in record time and we follow the others back to where the van is parked.

  He holds me all through the drive back to the city. I notice everyone looking at us questioningly out of the corners of their eyes, but they don't ask what's going on between us. I'm glad they don't, because it's none of their business anyway. What I have with Nicholas feels so precious and fragile right now; I don't want anybody else to even know it exists.

  Back at the apartments Nora announces that she's going to her bedroom to catch some shut eye, complaining that she slept awfully in the tent the past few nights. I'm just about to follow her into our apartment when Nicholas pulls me back and practically shoves me in the door of his place. He pierces me with a sexy grin and turns over the lock. We spend the next hour having the most amazing shower sex ever. He presses me up against the wall and goes down on me. We kiss beneath the spray of water. He slides himself into me and I get lost in the sensation, in the feel of him.