Seithe (Pravus)

by Poppet

  Next: Honey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Are you okay? Let me know that you are at least safe.

  On and on and on it goes until the last one. "WE ARE OVER, YOU HEAR ME? OVER! FUCK YOU! YOU ARE A SELFISH SELF-CENTERED LITTLE BITCH!"

  Well that has killed my joy dead.

  I click on Mum's email. She's worried sick. I email her a brief explanation. Brian felt so strongly about his last message he had to email it too. I get the message loud and clear. Shithead!

  Instantly drained I switch both off again after setting my alarm. Pull out the futon, peel off my clothes and collapse back under the green duvet. I'm happy with my dark green and white home. I finally have my own space, my own place, and no more pigheaded jerk to deal with.

  Yawning, I snuggle in and easily succumb to slumber, despite noisy neighbours and street traffic filtering into my shadow shrouded home.

  Chapter 13: Instinct

  Nerve assassination. He's a nerve assassin. Each finger a caressing sniper's rifle, trailing excruciatingly over my skin. Arching, I try to force them into giving me deeper pressure. His touch is so soft it's as annoying as having a tarantula strolling around my nipples.

  Frustrated I hold my hand over his, clutching it to me, smothering my skin with contact. So hot. Burning hot. Moaning low, I twitch my face away, relishing the tasting on my neck. His lips force my neck's surface into a catatonic frenzy. Stupor replaced with fervent nerve ignition.

  I slip my arm up, cupping his head, letting his breath breeze over my skin in tantalising ripples.

  "Seithe."

  I turn my face in and inhale deeply. My own tongue cranes to taste his skin. Quivering breath clouding thought.

  "Breathe into me."

  Suffocation as he covers my mouth and sucks me out of me, before breathing back. Allspice. He lets me recover with a quenching inhalation. Like an asthmatic I do it again. I suck in sharply when hot fingers trace my g-string. I can't. I - must - have - you - now.

  I open my eyes.

  Where are you?

  Sitting up, I'm disconcerted. Shakily I pull the duvet up as I pull up my knees, tenting the duvet, and stare around the bedroom in the dark. A few shrouded shadows perch on the wall from a distant street lamp. I close my eyes, probing the darkness with senses. I'm in denial, I don't believe he robbed me of this experience. My dream was so lucid. Wrapping tired arms around legs I drop my cheek heavily to rest on the mound. Bitter tears form. Screw you!

  Experiencing anger. Thrusting the covers away, feeling feverish. I'm completely awake now. I flick on the green copper lamp and probe the creepy dim corners with sensitive eyes. I patter out of my bedroom to get water from the fridge; the tiles are therapeutic after the heat of my need consumed me.

  The white tiles are littered with speckles of moonlight, forcing my bare feet to seem deathly pale. I stare at pink nail polish on my toes, examining them without seeing them. Thinking deeply about how lucid that dream was. A psychic connection so strong. Absently I flick long dark hair behind my shoulder and pad silently back to the waiting futon and MacBook.

  Flopping back across the rumpled hunter green linen of the bed, I yank the laptop toward myself in simmering rage. Activating it, I wait for my email to load. The glare is harsh emanating from the screen. Like a brat in the throws of a tantrum I begin beating my hands into the closest pillow.

  "What have you done to me!"

  If I wasn't so angry I'd laugh at myself. Yelling into an empty home. At what point did I lose my sanity?

  I scroll down to find his email when his scent wafts over me with overpowering intensity. Snapping my head up I inhale deeply. I jump up and sniff, following the sirocco scent out of the room until I lose it. With weird paranoia I even look up to examine the ceiling. Lazy lights reflect off the ceiling from a passing security vehicle. Passing slowly like a stalker trying to be unobtrusive. Ghostly breath shivers down my spine.

  "Seithe, are you here?"

  Silence.

  "Coward!"

  I spin, I'm in the fun-house trying to see through mirrors. "Face me! Come on! Deal with the monster you've created!"

  Nothing. Am I losing it?

  My mouth tightens with fierce determination. I pounce on my computer like a woman on a mission for shithead annihilation. I click on his email and activate reply.

  PhoebeMartin: What did you want?

  Send

  Chime: RevengeOfTheSeithe:

  Good evening beautiful. What did I want? You. All of you.

  Frenetic fingers type back...

  PhoebeMartin: You were here! I know you were!

  Send

  Chime: RevengeOfTheSeithe:

  You are simply projecting your desires into your reality. It's called manifestation.

  PhoebeMartin: UP YOURS! DON'T PATRONISE ME!

  Send

  Chime: RevengeOfTheSeithe:

  You are still angry my petal. I knew I shouldn't have let you go until you had worked through the experience.

  PhoebeMartin: AIM NOW!

  Send

  Chime: RevengeOfTheSeithe:

  As you wish.

  With simmering impatience I launch my AOL Instant Messenger. I do a search for his email. Click on friend request.

  Ding!

  SEITHER: Good evening precious. I see you are experiencing some anger issues now.

  PHOEBESMILES: YOU WERE HERE!

  SEITHER: Was I now?

  PHOEBESMILES: YES!

  SEITHER: I do love your fiery spirit.

  PHOEBESMILES: Go get fucked!

  SEITHER: Nothing I say seems to matter. So then accuse me and be done with it.

  I stare at those words, processing them again and again. Swallowing heavily I snatch up my bottle of water. Suddenly so parched. I sip absently, almost ready to reply when I taste the allspice. Its distinctive tang is so strong I am beyond doubt.

  PHOEBESMILES: INSTINCT ASSHOLE! You told me to trust it! And it's telling me YOU WERE HERE!

  SEITHER: Explain how I am home to answer your emails and there?

  PHOEBESMILES: I can't.

  SEITHER: Permission to laugh?

  PHOEBESMILES: You fuck with my head!

  SEITHER: You have it all wrong. You're supposed to be fucking with mine.

  PHOEBESMILES: ASS!

  I hate that I'm now smiling. I'm angry with him. Very! But he still manages to get me to smile.

  PHOEBESMILES: What do you do?

  SEITHER: I'm a head fucker apparently.

  PHOEBESMILES: I mean for a living...

  SEITHER: Aah! I'm a professional hacker.

  PHOEBESMILES: NO FUCKING WAY!

  SEITHER: Big corporations pay big money to have me test their firewalls and software. I get paid to enter the back door.

  PHOEBESMILES: So you work from home?

  SEITHER: Yes.

  PHOEBESMILES: How did you get into that?

  SEITHER: I have an innate gift for code.

  I stare at the words, tapping my finger undecided. Sucking my bottom lip in, considering if this guy is legit or not.

  SEITHER: You aren't the first to doubt me. Would you like me to hack your computer and prove it?

  Wicked challenging grin.

  PHOEBESMILES: Yes!

  I wait a little while.

  SEITHER: Who's Brian? What a dick!

  Blood drains out of hot cheeks, my focus wavers.

  PHOEBESMILES: My ex.

  SEITHER: When did he become your ex? The night I met you?

  I nod like an idiot. Why am I feeling embarrassed?

  PHOEBESMILES: Yes.

  SEITHER: No wonder you were so pissed off with men that night.

  PHOEBESMILES: I'm pissed off with you too.

  SEITHER: Want to get it out of your system?

  PHOEBESMILES: I don't trust you! Next time you might feed me to the sharks.

  SEITHER: I am laughing here. Phoebe baby, what if I promise to get your permission next time?

  PHOEBESMILES: You won't. Y
ou're just trying to lure me back so you can murder me and mount me to your wall.

  SEITHER: Hmm. I like the mounting to the wall idea.

  PHOEBESMILES: HA HA. Very Funny!

  SEITHER: Oooh my darling sarcastic spitfire. I am so relieved you're back to your confrontational self.

  PHOEBESMILES: Answer me truthfully...

  SEITHER: Anything

  PHOEBESMILES: Did you drug me with that purple shit?

  SEITHER: No. It takes time to get used to it. It's a strong sedative if you've never been exposed to it before. When you get accustomed to it, it has the opposite effect.

  PHOEBESMILES: Why me?

  SEITHER: Why not you?

  PHOEBESMILES: I'm too tired for games.

  SEITHER: Then go to sleep.

  PHOEBESMILES: Were you here?

  SEITHER: I will be if you want me to be.

  Now that's a trick question. Tap, tap, tap nail.

  PHOEBESMILES: I hate you.

  SEITHER: Wow, nice one.

  PHOEBESMILES: I can't get you out of my head.

  SEITHER: Good. Now get some rest. You are going to need it if I'm expected to mount you to the wall.

  PHOEBESMILES: You are such a tease!

  SEITHER: I have some things to expose you to first. So when am I going to get your slender legs back in my pad so I can get to the mounting part?

  PHOEBESMILES: Will you let me hurt you?

  SEITHER: You can try.

  PHOEBESMILES: Without fighting back with fucking pressure points!

  SEITHER: There are fucking - pressure points? I do love experimentation. Will you teach me those?

  Laughter bursts out of me.

  PHOEBESMILES: Why are you so bloody irresistible?

  SEITHER: God made me that way.

  PHOEBESMILES: I have work tomorrow.

  SEITHER: And after work?

  PHOEBESMILES: Maybe. I'll have to think about it.

  SEITHER: You know how to find me. I'm almost always here.

  PHOEBESMILES: Okay.

  SEITHER: Good night minxy.

  PHOEBESMILES: Good night.

  I am unaware that I'm smiling indulgently as I close the programs and switch my phone and laptop off. Oddly content, I burrow back under the covers, slipping unresisting into REM.

  Chapter 14: Day

  It's pouring with rain, yet again! Late spring is always weather-moody like this in Cape Town. Huffing with displeasure, I take the elevator up to the fourteenth floor where I work as executive personal assistant, absently trailing my dripping brolly behind me so I don't get my shoes wet. It's like playing Froggo out there, avoiding puddles.

  Work is situated just off Western Boulevard in a new office complex adjacent to the V&A Waterfront. Our unit overlooks the cosmopolitan hubbub of the waterfront, the harbour with cargo carriers and luxury yachts; and on the other side, gives a great view of Table Mountain. All depending on where you are in the building.

  I spend far too many lunch hours perusing the stores at the Waterfront. I'm totally addicted to the flea market, and find the nearby Two Oceans Aquarium a serene place to de-stress on hectic days.

  Smiling now, this reminds me of the amazing sunfish they had a while back. Such an unusual specimen. A bit like Seithe, simply unique and a one of a kind creation, probably one of God's better creation moments. It goes without saying that I eat fish and chips for lunch frequently. Sometimes I glimpse the excitement of the sea rescue team leaving the waterfront to rescue someone in distress.

  I leave my umbrella in the deliberately placed container inside the reception doors before clicking my way over black marble tiles to my desk. I've taken a lot of time to cover the hickeys with make-up. Pressing my black skirted derriere into the typist's chair, I drop my bag into a drawer, switch on my Apple Macintosh, then absently stand in black suede heels, smoothing my white blouse in the process.

  Coffee. Stat!

  As I'm pouring strong black coffee into my *I hate Mondays* mug, Bella walks in. For the ignorant, that would be the boss I answer to.

  "Rough weekend, Phoebe?"

  Lordy, is it that obvious?

  "You could say that."

  "Want to share?"

  I observe her putting in four sugars. Yuck.

  "I broke up with Brian."

  "Oh honey! I'm so sorry."

  I shrug and examine her richly deep green Hendrik Vermeulen suit. He's one of our finest couturier's who's dressed everyone who's anyone. Finally I meet her emerald eyes. Why do I suddenly feel so bloody tearful?

  Swivelling, I replace the glass jug back under the percolator.

  "Go home."

  "Don't be daft."

  "Just go home. Take the week off. It's quiet now anyway. I'll survive while you get your life back on track. You have to grieve or I'll have a snivelling wreck serving tea at my board meetings."

  I watch her chestnut bob flow gracefully away from her heart shaped face as she stares at me with her, *you don't have a choice* expression.

  I nod. "Thanks."

  "It's coming out of your compassionate leave, so tell your family no one can die anytime soon."

  I laugh at her attempt at a joke. "Yes ma'am."

  She reaches and gives my hand a squeeze before releasing me to dump the coffee down the sink.

  The drive home is no fun at all. The rain has turned into a gale of a north-easter, throwing water around in a blurry tantrum. Casting gloomy shadows over everything the grey clouds seem unmoved by the harsh gusts buffeting my blue Polo. Which reminds me, I need new wiper blades. And if this wind turns another umbrella inside out, I am going to be very angry with the Valkyries commanding this storm.

  *

  Back in my black hipster jeans at home, I have no idea what to do with myself. I don't feel like painting. The weather is dismal, so going outdoors is out of the question too. I've just got dry again, but the cloying humidity clings uncomfortably. Inclement Cape weather, you either love it or hate it. I usually love it, but today it's giving me cabin fever.

  Although nothing beats the damp smell of recent rain, bringing to life that unique earthy aroma of soil and plants on every breeze. It's also the kind of weather which makes you crave a hot body to snuggle up with. A tall, toned, sexy hot body which probably wouldn't even fit under my duvet it owns such long legs. A melancholic sigh rivals the whistling wind.

  I push my knitted shirt sleeve up and examine the wrist thoughtfully. Walking purposefully into the open plan kitchen I dig out a steak knife from the cutlery drawer. Holding it firmly I try pushing my knuckle into my wrist. No matter how hard I try, I can't reconstruct what he did.

  Dammit! Why am I thinking of him again? Come on Phoebe, try and think of something else for ten whole minutes! I fling the fridge door open and the first thing my eyes alight on are the tomatoes. Seithe. Everywhere Seithe. Call him.

  Walking to my phone I snatch it up, then snap it closed again. I can't call him because I don't have his number. It's like trying to resist sleep when you're exhausted. I can't. I have an addiction, borderline obsession now.

  I connect again with my phone and wait impatiently for AIM to open.

  PHOEBESMILES: You're online!

  SEITHER: My work is online, where did you think I'd be? Don't act surprised - you knew I'd be here.

  PHOEBESMILES: I hadn't given it that much thought

  SEITHER: How's work?

  PHOEBESMILES: They sent me home.

  SEITHER: I see.

  A few moments of drawn out nothingness.

  PHOEBESMILES: I'm ready.

  SEITHER: Are you sure about that?

  PHOEBESMILES: Yes.

  SEITHER: When?

  I pull my jeans away from my body and double check which undies I'm wearing. Pink lace. Perfect.

  PHOEBESMILES: Now?

  SEITHER: How long are you off for?

  PHOEBESMILES: The rest of the week.

  SEITHER: Pack a bag. I'll see you in ten minutes.

  My hea
rt begins thrumming with nervous excitement.

  PHOEBESMILES: Okay

  SEITHER: Phoebe.... are you sure?

  PHOEBESMILES: Yes!

  SEITHER: Ok.

  And I watch him log off.

  That canons me into activity. Madly rushing around grabbing toothbrush, perfume, hairbrush, underwear, stuffing them into an overnight bag. My pulse is going berserk, and I just have time to put my vamp teeth in when the doorbell resounds for the first time.

  I push my phone into my pocket, smooth my hair, and open the door.

  I can't breathe as my eyes drink in Seithe in full daylight splendour. He's wearing absolute dark sunglasses. I don't know how he sees through them. They just highlight his perfect nose posed above kiss-me-now lips. His hair is white, spiked up, accentuating his male symmetry.

  His neck is surprisingly graceful as he cocks his head and smiles. His teeth are so white. I grin at his vamp teeth. Brilliant minds and all that.

  He's wearing a black knit shirt almost identical to the one I'm wearing, a black leather biker's jacket which broadens his shoulders further, subliminally accentuating the V of shoulder to hip proportions. I swallow heavily when I notice the silver buckle and belt snugly surrounding his hips above long legs in tar dark jeans.

  If I had any doubts they just deserted me like allies during war. This is the kind of man women will do anything for. We are shallow, but the gene pool preference instinct demands copulation with this type of male. And he's alpha with a capital A.

  "Come in."

  He walks in, and I follow his long striding with instant-lusty observation.

  He peruses slowly before presumably staring at me. Those sunglasses really are dark. "Nice," he drawls softly.

  I smile back. He picks up my overnight bag and wraps an arm around me, squeezing my softness against his contours, "Ready?"

  I nod. So excited, I'm having a hard time breathing normally.

  He lowers his head and crushes my lips against my teeth. They part as I entwine arms around his neck. He squeezes me tighter, I respond by increasing my grip; and I black out.

  Chapter 15: Flow

  I can smell him and ... and? My brow furrows as I cling to the lethargy and relaxation of not being fully awake. Fried onions!