by TorreS, Pet
The voice of despair screams within my being.
I feel guilty, angry, sad and unable to try to change my own destiny.
Slowly I hold the hem of my dress and sit on the bench behind my legs. I look up and breathe the fresh air that the interior of L. Tiger's Mansion didn't allow me a few minutes ago.
However I think of him, but that I think about it constantly.
His image comes to the eyes of my mind all the time, every second. He always manages to cross the barriers of my mind and infiltrate them without my permission.
I lift my hands up to my melancholy and dejected face. I feel that my tears will come down at any time and suddenly a transparent drop slides down the skin of my face. I close my eyes and I seem to pray. Begging God for a light in my life.
I need that.
I need his voice to shake within my interior and say the right thing for me.
What decisions I should take in my life.
Before Larsson Tiger has arisen in that hospital, I was doing everything without burden of conscience, no regrets, no lamentations.
However, now everything is so strange, so different.
Looks like I'm doing it all wrong. I'm swimming against the tide and trying to beat the sea with its huge and endless waves.
- My God, I can't take it anymore!
I pronounce quietly, still with my eyes closed.
My tears descend like a child going down on a slide.
I open my eyes and I see a few things around me, my eyes are still blurred with my crying and again I think I have a fiancé that I really don't love, I never loved him, although I have tried until now.
Secretly, the man of my life is sentenced to an indeterminate disability.
Though I try, but I cannot continue working with the recovery of his health or it will be my mental hygiene that will truly end up needing help.
Chapter 10
Larsson Tiger's birthday
The door opens slowly and little by little I can see the inside of a huge and luxurious room. A room full of objects related to tigers.
My heart speeds up, slows down and simultaneously freezes before the opportunity to be seconds away from seeing the man who once again anguishes my heart.
- He's inside.
Finally Olinda says, looking at my face. She smiles softly and her hand abandons the door handle with refinement.
I remain paralyzed in front of the passage. My body hardens facing it all and more precisely, facing what lies ahead after I put my feet in that quiet bedroom.
- Thank you, Olinda.
My voice allowed me to thank her. Olinda looks down to my arms and to my hands. She realizes that I seem uneasy. Maybe a little nervous.
The courage finally comes and with it I walk forward, slowly through the open passage.
Without looking back, I realize that Olinda puts her hand again on the door handle and closes it again.
That's the least she can do for me at that moment.
I look at a wall and see again my nakedness in an oil painting, along with Zuak.
At that moment, my ears detect a gentle melody, playing softly in an MP3 player. This song is so low and soft. I know this song, I imagine. 'Florence and the Machine, Shake it out'.
This song reminds me some wonderful moments beside Larsson Tiger. His birthday last year.
Too many moments. I stop in the middle of the room, there is a huge stairwell. My hands are crossed just below my crotch. I feel extremely shy when I see Larsson Tiger with his back turned to me, sitting in his wheelchair. He is in front of the glass wall. Looking to the green landscape on the other side of it.
However, he realizes that I'm there, just standing a few feet behind him. Unhurried, he turns his chair, using the strength of his arms, and faces me. His green eyes stare at me with seriousness and admiration at the same time.
I can see that.
His eyes go down thru the length of my body, and they notice that I'm in a black and fair dress. Black high heels and my hair is held by a bun on top of my head. My makeup is light and discreet. I have no intent to draw admiring glances obtaining a completely ruby hued mouth.
I also observe him with discretion, as we trace silent stares, toward each other.
Larsson is barefoot, wearing only black sweatpants. His defined and pale chest is exposed. His tiger tattoo next to his left rib attracts my intruder vision.
His clenched fists hit a few times on the arms of his chair. So he begins with a hoarse and burlesque voice.
- What are you doing here?
His eyes meet another direction, as he insists. But my eyes still find his fascinating image before me.
I can admit that he is an extremely seductive wheelchair user. Unintentionally seductive.
- Shouldn't you be keeping company to your fiancé?
Now his green eyes stare at me. He lights a cigarette and devours it at once with great intensity.
His question makes me completely lost. I look around and try to look natural. After all, this is just a question and why does it bothers me so much?
Is it really the question that bothers me right now?
Or is it the green eyes of the voice author?
If the answer is the second option...I can say that I'm ruined...and have a passport stamped to hell.
I stare at him with a pious look, full of compassion.
- I...remembered...that...today is...your...birth...day...
My voice utters barely audible and with many breaks.
He devours again his cigarette, without any haste, after that he looks to his left and smiles modestly. Larsson does not seem surprised.
I keep watching him with gentleness.
Then he looks toward me with absolute power, his green eyes sparkle even more.
They are perfect.
Promptly he says coldly.
- I'm waiting for my driver to bring me one of my girls here...
Larsson remains staring me in the eye.
Inconsequentially, I feel my body unbalance on top of my heels. A vertigo of jealousy dominates my entire being. The sensation of imagining a woman in Larsson Tiger's company really tortures me. I realize that. I look to one side and lower my head.
- Forgive me for coming...here...without...warning - I look ahead. - I...should not have come here.
Immediately I turn my back to him and try to find, with great difficulty, the way back to the bedroom door. My legs are confused by jealousy of someone who doesn't belong to me, that never belonged to me.
My God what am I doing here?
I question within myself.
I'm an idiot! An imbecile!
Without thinking twice, I stop my daring steps, when an audacious voice cries out behind me.
- Stay!
I keep my back to him. My pusillanimous look meets the wall ahead.
- It's a lie! - He examines my back, from the bottom to the top. - There is no girl.
He did this to see my reaction to know that he would have a wonderful evening next to a luxury prostitute. Larsson automatically realizes that I didn't like the idea one bit.
His eyes find the nothingness.
- There is nothing to celebrate - He pauses. - Except my disability.
Quickly I turn my body and my eyes shine in his direction. This is my chance to try to change his concept regarding his marrow trauma.
- You should thank God for having escaped alive. Your accident was very serious! Consider it a miracle...
Larsson shrugs and his elbows touch the arms of his wheelchair. His fingers cross and he stares at me with his glaring eyes, confessing with such ease.
- I don't talk to God in long time.
He pauses and then continues.
- Since I was ten years old. After my parents death.
My saliva slides down my throat, hearing such blasphemy released by Larsson's mouth.
- Don't say that. God is so merciful. He was merciful with your life. Look, you're alive!
His fingers
glide across his bangs and he throws it back. Seriously the host faces the wall next to him.
- I don't want to talk about God now. I'll think about that later...
My eyes close.
How the heart of Larsson Tiger is protected by a stone barrier! He really needs to have a resurgent soul. Or his spirit may burn in hell after his extinction.
Then he insists.
- If you are here because you are sorry for me, I prefer you leave now.
I swallow my saliva, I try to tell him something, maybe confess to him that I'm there for some elusive reason, perhaps by a powerful force called love.
However, I can simply say.
-...It...is not...because...I'm sorry for you. I...can...ensure that...to...you...
I lower my head right away.
We hold the silence for a few moments, I bite my lower lip and dare to say.
- I brought a gift...for...you...
I look to one side. My cheeks blush of shame, fear and insecurity.
Larsson raises his head and stares at me in the face. He realizes that I hastily take a small black box from my purse.
- A gift?
His voice utters weakly as he watches my every move.
- Please. - I insist raising my hand towards him, holding the black box. - Accept it, it's from the heart.
Larsson stays voiceless, as I approach slowly and stop in front of him, still keeping my outstretched arm for him. He looks down at the black box and holds it slowly. Mr. Tiger doesn't seems like he wants that little souvenir, even without knowing what it might be.
And what is the real value of the present.
Moments later, he manages to open the little black box and his eyes round to the golden object inside the box. He raises his green eyes and they get stuck in my direction, more precisely in the direction of my pale and nervous face.
- I can't accept this!
He says, removing the object from the box and perfectly seeing a gold chain with a tiger pendant in the palm of his hand.
Then he insists looking at the object.
- This must have cost all of your savings, I imagine.
He shakes his head.
- I appreciate it, but I cannot accept this gift.
I almost interrupt him.
- Please Larsson, accept it. I felt good buying this chain with a tiger pendant for you. I realize that you no longer use your Tiger chain. I believe that you should have lost it in the crash.
- Yes, I lost it. After many years with me.
He stares at me again.
- I was going to buy another, as soon as I started to walk.
There's a brief silence in the room. Larsson lowers his head and looks at the golden chain between his fingers. He admires it silently.
- I beg...
I insist with my sweet voice.
- Accept this gift.
Larsson raises his head and his eyes collide with mine. He realizes that inside of me there is a much more valuable gift than that gold chain with a tiger pendant.
- Well, alright then...
He lowers his head and speaks with a soft voice.
- I accept it.
I smile gently toward him, but he doesn't realize this because at that time his eyes are busy with the magnificent image of a gold chain with the tiger pendant between his fingers.
- Put it on my neck!
He quickly orders me after raising his eyes toward me again.
Then he confesses.
- I myself could do that. - His eyes stare at me with intensity. - But I'd rather have you do it.
His authority as always prevails in his environment. Larsson always wants to be in control and in command of everything.
- OK.
I speak slightly, walk further and stop at the back of his chair. I watch his chest from his back. He is shirtless. Silently I take the golden chain out of the little box and open its the lock, then put it further down and carefully put the chain around his neck, avoiding touching the skin of his throat. Avoiding having any physical contact with him.
This is a logical way for me to protect myself from any temptation caused by his magnetism on me.
- Done.
This word slips from my lips, when I realize I did what he proposed me. Immediately I get out of the back of his wheelchair, start walking and stop in front of him, but keeping a good distance from him.
Larsson's fingers hold the gold pendant and he looks at it with admiration.
- Thank you.
He thanks, looking at me, and his fingers release the pendant and it lays on his chest, just below his throat.
- Do not thank, I made no sacrifice.
I say and we stay silent again.
Larsson maintains his green and glamorous look in my direction. They climb from the bottom up and stop in my unsightly and pale face. Larsson sees my oval face, completely uncovered by my hair which are held by a bun on top of my head.
- Can I ask you something?
His voice asks softly.
I stretch my spine, wondering what he will ask me. I feel insecure and curious at the same time.
- What?
His elbows touch the arms of his chair as he looks strongly at me.
- Get close to me for a moment! I need to do something!
- I...
I make a discomfort look to the sides, looking submerged and hesitant.
- Please! I insist!
However, I remain immobile in the same place.
- Don't you trust me?
Without adding a word, I walk slowly toward him and stop just in front of his wheelchair. I look down and I see his green eyes contemplating my face unhurriedly.
- Let me do this.
He says and raises his arms toward my face. He holds it from side to side and pulls me to him. I notice my body bending in his chair. I look forward and see Larsson Tiger's green eyes so closely.
His fingers slide through my hair and he undoes the bun on top of my head. My dark hair falls down rapidly and covers part of my back and also my shoulders. Some strands hide part of my face.
Larsson's fingers touch my face again on both sides and he speaks again, with his hoarse and almost softly voice.
- I wanted to see you like that, with your hair loose.
He smiled weakly.
- I just wanted to mess up your hair.
I close my eyes and sigh of relief, thinking he wanted to steal a kiss from me. However my peace is interrupted when his hands strongly hold the sides of my face and he stares at me in the eye.
A burning shiver runs down my spine.
Our sighs are becoming obvious and our lips are about to collide against each other. I realize that and I despair. Throwing my body back, I try to walk hastily in one direction, and walking backwards I end up running into a piece of furniture behind me. A noise occurs when a tiger statue falls to the ground, but does not break. I get down, trying to lift it up with much difficulty.
- I need to go...
I say lifting me up, and try to be less desperate. My gaze meets Larsson's image sitting in his wheelchair,. The tiger pendant begins to shine in his throat.
- Ok, but first have a champagne with me.
Larsson presents his desire, I take it with fear and remain silent.
Chapter 11
- I was going to drink all this champagne alone. But you came to keep me company.
Larsson says, sitting on his bed. His back are supported on the headboard of his bed. His body doesn't move from the waist down.
He fills our glasses again and puts the empty bottle on the table beside. I keep holding my glass while I'm sitting, well behaved, on his bed at his side.
At this point we seem to be normal people who have always had a healthy coexistence.
- It's a shame that today I don't have a chocolate cake with cherries.
He teases.
A few seconds later, I look down, staring at the champagne on my glass and memories of my past come to my mind. I remember last
year, at Larsson's anniversary, when we enjoyed a champagne he filled his glass with that drink and then he introduced my breasts in his glass and began to suck them with his hot tongue.
My fingers run through my forehead, I feel dizzy, I feel bad in front of him.
- I need to go now!
I mumble in a hurry, I get up out of bed and put the glass with champagne at the table beside. Larsson looks at me, surprised. Not covering my sudden desire for hastily leaving his room.
- I'm so sorry...
I try to say again and slowly walk backwards.
However, Larsson puts his glass on the table and stares at me with deliberation. Her green eyes almost swallow me at once.
My legs freeze, I can't move. I just watch him. As mesmerized as he was.
- You look beautiful!
He mumbles, looking at my image standing before him in my fair and black dress.
- I can imagine the lingerie that is under your clothes right now.
Larsson confesses as his gaze confiscates my whole body under his eyeballs.
I blush with embarrassment, feeling confused and attracted to the man sitting on his bed. Larsson still lights me completely without making much effort.
I hate this power of seduction that he fluently has over women and especially over me.
I feel so weak! So sensitive! So stupid!
Emily remember all the bad things this man did to you! Maybe that works and you don't fall into his arms for another hundred times.
- I don't know what I came here to do?
I mumble looking at him.
- I should not have come.
Larsson smiles seductively towards me.
- I know exactly why you are here.
He picks up his glass and drinks all the champagne contained therein. Not looking one bit concerned about the situation or with the panic significantly inserted into my eyes.
- Why then?
I insist.
His hand puts the empty glass on the table beside, he looks at me, staring at me without fear. Shortly his voice says with great arrogance.