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Chalk Butterfly: Part One (First Time Erotic Romance)

Page 10

by Audra Red


  Alexander had never felt so embarrassed in his entire twenty four years of living. He should have known, Daniel had told him they’d be dining in Park Place. What had he been thinking with the sweater?

  Daniel sighed, giving the hostess a desperate look, but she wasn’t budging. If Alexander felt terrible, then Daniel felt doubly terrible. He’d known of the restaurant policies, had even dressed in a smart suit himself, but he’d been so caught up with Alexander that he hadn’t noticed the young man’s attire.

  Which was a complete mistruth, to be sure.

  Daniel had noticed. He’d spent an entire car ride sneaking furtive glances at Alexander’s well cut trousers, slightly scuffed black shoes and the small crescent of soft skin peaking out from the very bottom of the green turtleneck sweater.

  For some reason it hadn’t exactly dawned on him that Alexander’s clothes weren’t appropriate. In fact, they looked far more than merely appropriate to Daniel.

  He frowned hard, and turned to Alexander. “We can go somewhere else.”

  “No… we… you had plans,” Alexander said miserably. “You made reservations. I can’t believe I mucked this up. I’m so sorry.” Alexander shifted uneasily, feeling his hands clench painfully inside his mittens. He couldn’t imagine what Daniel must think of him, such an unrefined, naïve boy who’d never been much of anywhere.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Daniel said. “It’s not about the restaurant, Alexander. It’s never been about the restaurant.”

  But Alexander wasn’t hearing it.

  “I can go home and change,” Alexander offered, biting at his lip. “I just… don’t think I have a tie, but I could call Eli, and he could…maybe... Or Elizabeth, perhaps…”

  Alexander babbled to the floor and Daniel felt extremely guilty.

  “You really want to eat here?” Daniel asked, stepping in closer. He settled a warm hand on the side of Alexander’s neck.

  Even through the thick fabric, Alexander could feel the heat, could feel it radiating off Daniel in waves.

  ‘Well, that was the plan,’ Alexander thought, not daring to look up. ‘You take me to dinner, we have an uncomfortable evening and I royally fuck everything up at dessert. But not before we even get in the restaurant,’ he mentally berated himself.

  “Alexander?”

  Alexander nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He had a feeling his dating skills weren’t quite up to par.

  “I have a tie at my apartment you could borrow,” Daniel said softly, his hand sliding down Alexander’s arm to catch at the slim wrist. Daniel brought Alexander’s hand into his own, unknowing of the stinging pain it caused Alexander. “I could lend you a shirt too, I have some smaller ones from my skinnier days. They’ll hold my reservations.”

  Alexander nodded again.

  “Alexander.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Really.”

  “No more of that, really,” Daniel said.

  But Daniel didn’t know what Alexander had actually apologized for.

  ***

  The car ride to Daniel’s apartment shared absolutely nothing in common with the earlier ride of the same sort.

  There was no playful banter or light conversation. Alexander stared out the window in near mortification, occasionally mumbling apologies.

  He was nervous out of his mind when the car finally stopped in an affluent neighborhood and Daniel graciously opened the door for him. “Thanks,” he said, allowing Daniel to help him from the car.

  Daniel grasped Alexander’s elbow carefully, fighting the urge to just wrap the worried man in his arms. He knew Alexander blamed himself, knew Alexander felt miserable over the turn of events.

  “Watch the gutter,” Daniel said as they crossed the street. Alexander stumbled a bit, wincing as he did so, and it was then that Daniel really wondered about him.

  He’d had fleeting moments of clarity about Alexander, suddenly feeling or knowing something about the man, something private. Who this private Alexander was, he wasn't quite sure.

  They entered the impressive building and took a flight of stairs up to the first floor.

  “It's right here,” Daniel said once they came upon his door. He fumbled with the key in the lock, bringing someone into his apartment for the first time in months.

  For as well as he could see, Alexander found the place to be immaculate. Daniel flicked on a lamp or two, but the light was dim at best. “Here, I’ll set some things out on my bed, and then you can pick what you like,” Daniel said, leaving Alexander in the living room.

  Alexander nodded after Daniel, still closed up inside himself.

  If he had been nervous before, he was terrified now. Now Daniel was annoyed with him, perhaps even a little angry…

  Could he tell him the truth?

  Alexander thought not. But there really would be no avoiding it, not when they sat down to dinner, or even when he changed.

  Taking a deep breath, Alexander leaned against the wall beside the door. His eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness of the room, and he could see large paintings lined evenly all along the walls.

  Only a few inches of space lived between each wall hanging, and Alexander found himself intrigued despite his own worry. He walked to the far wall and stood beside the sofa there.

  He slid his right palm up the wall, finding the rough surface of what was definitely a painting. He could feel the rough brushstrokes even through the mittens and he knew the canvas must have been painted with heavy acrylics, or something of that nature.

  Something thick and unyielding, something that dried fast and couldn’t be altered.

  The curves of paint dug into the heel of Alexander’s hand, the pain waking him up somewhat. He let out a low groan, his head snapping back as Daniel entered the room.

  Daniel would have been quite bemused to know of Alexander's sudden insight into his own character, especially after his own flash of discovery with Alexander moments prior.

  “Let me show you to the bedroom,” Daniel said, possibly for the first time in his life without any untoward insinuation.

  Alexander followed him, somewhat removed from the situation as he thought back to the paintings. They felt ugly, why would Daniel buy such things? Perhaps he found them interesting or unique.

  “Just let me know if you need some help with the cuffs or anything,” Daniel said as they entered the room. “Tricky little buggers.” He gave Alexander a half smile, and Alexander returned it uneasily.

  “Thanks,” Alexander murmured.

  Daniel left then, watching Alexander toy with the thumbs of his mittens.

  Alexander knew this would be a task. The button up shirt alone would take a good five minutes, and then he had the tie to worry about…

  Had he ever worn one before? Of course he had, back in England at his aunt’s stuffy attempts at dinner parties.

  He sighed. He’d even tied them himself, he’d felt childishly proud of the accomplishment.

  But that was before… well, before everything.

  Time was ticking and Alexander pulled off his gloves. His hands shook slightly, but he didn’t concentrate on that.

  “Okay,” he said aloud. “Okay.”

  Feeling a bit more desperate than usual, Alexander tugged the sweater over his head, finding his chest and back covered with a thin sheen of sweat. He didn’t dawdle, only picked up the crisp white dress shirt from the bed and pulled his arms through. He was doing an efficient, albeit painful job, and the less he thought about it, the better. It was usually only when he thought about things and put them to words that he broke down. He wouldn’t make this real.

  But it was rather absurd, he knew. Only five buttons were done up before he found himself sitting atop the bed, attempting to calm his breathing. The air burst from his lungs at such a rate he wouldn’t have been surprised to find himself soon hyperventilating.

  Two more buttons and the first tears swam down his cheeks.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gritted out, the
pain lacing up his fingers and through his palms. His hands hurt tremendously that evening, more than they had in weeks. “It’s just a shirt.”

  He glanced at the clock then, found that ten minutes had passed.

  “What am I doing?”

  Four buttons were left, but after them remained the tie and the cuffs and the explanations. Alexander squeezed his eyes shut tight, sliding to the floor, needing to feel grounded. There was no way he could do this. There was no way he could do any of this. It wasn’t the shirt that held him back. He knew that. He held himself back.

  A small sob of tension broke free from his lips, dozens more following after.

  What a mess he was, what a useless burden. He knew this was a sign of the future roadblocks in his life. He couldn’t even dress himself properly. He couldn’t get his own groceries or take care of his own cat.

  Everything was crashing down on him, things he hadn’t thought about in years, things he thought didn’t matter anymore. They were all suddenly important.

  He thought about how he'd dropped out of university because the days were too long, too stressing. How he'd torn his family apart with his disease, forced his mother to take them from everything they knew and loved. How they'd only moved to the states because the best doctors practiced there, because Alexander’s mother wanted him to have a normal life even if it destroyed hers.

  Alexander let the tears come because he knew he couldn't stop them. He squeezed his hands together and let the pain course through him as punishment.

  How could he know Daniel had heard? Wasn’t he still in the living room, on the far side of the apartment?

  Daniel hadn’t heard, not from the living room, but had gone to check on Alexander after fifteen minutes had passed without a peep from the younger man.

  Standing outside his bedroom door, he heard the quiet sobs which grew louder with each wheezing breath. Daniel only paused a moment to make his decision.

  He opened the door.

  Alexander was hunched over, his back to the bed, the dress shirt crumpled and hanging from his shaking form.

  Daniel stood in the doorway, eyes finding the fuzzy mittens on the floor, the heavy sweater on the bed.

  He watched Alexander curl his bandaged hands around himself.

  There were no words.

  Chapter Seven

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  Daniel didn’t know what to do.

  Back in his younger days, he hadn’t been the most confident child, nothing like the person he now presented to the world. People saw him as a successful businessman who was usually very serious and headstrong, sometimes even arrogant.

  But Daniel knew it was all facade; that boy still lived in him.

  Growing up, things constantly shifted and changed, nothing felt permanent. There was no consistency in his life. Only from stability did Daniel find his confidence. If he was really honest about it, he thought himself cowardly.

  Now, standing awkwardly in his own bedroom, he felt ill at ease.

  Alexander hadn’t looked up yet, hadn’t noticed Daniel’s presence. His face pressed back into the mattress behind him, his entire frame shaking. The situation was surreal enough, and Daniel fought for some sort of understanding. Alexander’s hands were wrapped to the wrists, but why?

  If Daniel really thought on it (and he did, if only to prolong the uneasy silence before the uneasy words that would need to come), he hadn’t seen Alexander’s hands during their first meeting. Had Alexander been hurt then too? Was he hurt?

  As anxious as the situation made Daniel (little insecurities worming their way up through the tough skin he’d worked so hard for), he also felt an undeniable need to comfort Alexander. Yes, he knew he could very easily walk right out of the room and act as if he hadn’t seen a thing. He could wait for Alexander in the living room, allow the young man time to compose himself, and let him do the explaining.

  But Daniel felt rather adventurous that evening.

  “Alexander?”

  Alexander’s head snapped up, an immediate scarlet blush playing across his cheeks. He let out a little hiccupping sob, his feet pulling up tight to his body, his eyes staring wide and wet at Daniel.

  “Alexander,” Daniel breathed again, finding himself crossing the room and crouching beside him. “What’s wrong?” His hands fell to the younger man’s shoulders, lightly massaging the tendons there. Alexander squirmed at the touch, seeming to sober from his near anguish.

  “It’s nothing,” Alexander replied, clasping his hands together gently. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to ruin your evening, I--”

  Daniel frowned hard and allowed a soft hand to turn warmly against Alexander’s neck. Alexander moved away from the touch initially, but pressed in the moment Daniel’s hand left his neck.

  “Don’t apologize,” Daniel said, watching Alexander closely. “Talk to me.”

  “You know that’s not my strong suit,” Alexander said uneasily. “I do owe you an apology. I wish I could handle this like an adult.”

  “Hey,” Daniel said, shifting so he was sitting beside Alexander. “You apologize too much for yourself.” Alexander sniffled and shook his head, new tears spilling down his cheeks.

  “No,” he whispered, holding up his wrapped hands.

  Daniel took the thin wrists gently in his hands, thumbs stroking the soft skin there. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I’m not well.” Alexander allowed Daniel to hold his wrists, feeling more vulnerable than he had in ages. It wasn’t only the physical contact, but the intense look in Daniel’s eyes that made Alexander shake.

  “What’s wrong?” Daniel felt something lurch in his stomach. “You can tell me, it’ll be all right,”

  Alexander took a short breath and closed his eyes. “I have a rare skin disease called Epidermolysis Bullosa,” Alexander said flatly.

  “On your hands?” Daniel asked, his eyes shifting from Alexander’s reddened face to his long, wrapped fingers. Alexander nodded.

  “My feet too,” he said. “Sometimes on my legs or my arms. I’ve had lesions since I was eleven. It’s… god, I’m sorry,” he ended on a whisper. “I should have told you earlier, I should have but I was frightened you’d—”

  Daniel took a hand from Alexander’s wrist and pressed his own fingers lightly against Alexander’s wet cheeks. He was still confused about Alexander’s condition, but he couldn’t imagine anything about the younger man would turn him away now. “Alexander.” He brushed at the tears, his fingers slipping beneath Alexander’s chin, raising the downcast eyes to his own.

  “You treated me like a normal person,” Alexander said. “Everyone I know coddles me and I didn’t want you to think I was helpless… or weak. I wanted to see how it felt to maybe have something normal.”

  Daniel shook his head and gave Alexander a small smile. “I like you,” he murmured, his hand falling to squeeze Alexander’s shoulder. “I’m not exactly sure what you deal with on a daily basis or anything like that, but I doubt I’d treat you any differently.”

  Alexander didn’t reply, just leaned into Daniel’s side, his eyes on the floor. “You don’t understand,” he finally said. He shifted away from Daniel.

  Daniel frowned, allowing Alexander his space. “Then help me to.”

 

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