Erik lives in one of those old historical buildings from the twentieth century. He's not particularly rich but he was lucky enough to inherit the apartment from his grandparents. It's a nice spacious place with nostalgic atmosphere but it's not soundproof and the neighbours are mostly old people so we can't be loud.
He greets me with a wide smile, grabs my hand and pulls me inside. I love his straight-forwardness. He's a no bullshit kind of guy. And I can feel that he's excited already.
"It's been ages since your last visit," he says and kisses me right in the hall. He immediately gets rid of my ponytail so that he can caress my long hair. He always does that.
"Two weeks, your shifts didn't fit my school schedule," I take off my shoes and put them on the rack. Unlike me, Erik keeps his place tidy.
His mood slightly changes. "You fucked other guys during that time?" he purses his lips in an accusation.
"No, other guys fucked me," I correct him and try to make it into a joke. After all, we're not dating. Normally I don't feel guilty about it but Erik seems to be the only one who can make me feel guilty. I'm not sure why. I mean... I never cheat, my lovers all know.
Erik knows that as well but he's still a little bit pissed; I can feel his irritation. His desire is bigger, though. He pushes me to the wall and slips his hand under my t-shirt. I gently touch his mind and the world around me blurs.
I'm an addict. A telepath addict hooked on my lovers' feelings. Thoughts and feelings of strangers have a tendency to hurt or annoy me. Thoughts and feelings of people I like are a drug to me.
Erik unexpectedly pushes me back. I blink, confused. A forcefully interrupted connection is disorienting.
"Your stomach is rumbling," he says, partly amused but mostly concerned. "Let's have dinner first, okay?"
No need to argue, I've been starving the whole afternoon. Stacking various classes one after another is efficient but as a result I never have time for lunch.
"I ordered your favourite Thai," he boasts as he presents me a plastic takeaway box.
His thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze me. I guess that's why I fell for him. That and also the fact that he's a medical helicopter pilot who offered me a free flight on the day of our first meeting in a bar. My first time flying. Or rather my first time flying in real life.
"What?" I mumble with a mouth full of noodles because he's watching me for some reason.
"I just like looking at you, pretty boy," he shrugs. "You should definitely do something about your diet, though. Have you lost some weight again?"
"No idea, I don't own a scale," I dip a piece of fish in a spicy sauce and shove it into my mouth. "I eat when I'm with you."
"And with other guys," he still refuses to let it go.
He usually doesn't have such a problem with it so I guess he must be feeling neglected by me. Erik is actually very possessive which makes him a bad choice for someone like me but I can't help it when someone's mind attracts me. My telepathy is a double-edged sword when it comes to love.
"I'm with you now," I assure him and I really mean it. I always fully focus on the person I'm with at the moment. It's impossible for me not to if I like them. It's like being addicted to chocolate and having an exquisite bar in front of you. Impossible to resist or think about anything else until you eat it whole.
We finish our dinner and decide to take a shower together. He enjoys undressing me and I enjoy feeling attractive in his eyes. I used to be ashamed of my lack of masculinity when I was younger but only until I found out that certain types of guys are totally into that. And these guys often happen to be the types I'm into so it's a win-win. Unless they're train perverts, of course.
Erik takes the soap and starts washing me. He's the only person I know who insists on these traditional soaps instead of shower gels from automatic dispensers. I think it's an adorable quirk.
I feel a weird tickling sensation when he soaps my back, especially the area under my shoulder blades.
"What?" he stops as soon as he notices my discomfort.
"Nothing," I shake my head. I must have strained my back at school. Sitting for several hours can be demanding.
Then it's my turn soaping him and I enjoy every second of it. Erik is quite muscular but not too much, exactly as I prefer it. And he's tall. Well, it's not like I'm particularly short myself but my lovers always end up to be taller than me.
We continue in his comfy wide bed and I lose myself in his mind again. I know exactly how to please him. The physical and the mental blur—I'm high.
Suddenly, he pushes me down and stops for a moment which blunts the connection.
"How did you know that I would like that?" he looks at me strangely.
Oops, I did it again. I try to be careful but I fail more often than not.
"Telepathy," I joke.
Only it isn't a joke. But he has no idea. Nobody does.
"Have you tried that with other guys?" he guesses and looks saddened. "Am I not enough for you? You really like me, admit it."
"I'm not boyfriend material," I say, grumpy that he's stopped at the best part.
"You're not slut material either," he raises his eyebrows. "Why do you act like one?"
"I simply don't have time for proper dating. I have school and my job," I quickly come up with an excuse. I can't tell him the true reason.
"Your job," he repeats. "Which I still know nothing about."
Erik has a tendency to talk a lot when something bugs him. It's cute but rather distracting when we're supposed to do other things. And he's not pesky, only genuinely concerned.
I silence him with a kiss to deepen our connection again. I remind him with my body why we're friends with benefits and that talking isn't necessary.
*****
I don't do mornings so I dress up when Erik falls asleep. I watch him for a few minutes, he's so damn handsome. I bend down to kiss him goodbye and get the last taste of him. His sleeping mind is so soothing. I've never met anybody like Erik, to be honest. I could spend countless hours in him. But I know I can't.
I lov---
I stop myself in my thoughts. What was I just thinking? Erik doesn't know me. Not really. He just likes my face and body. That's it. If he knew the truth about me, he would probably run away and call me a freak. No, I can't get attached for this exact reason.
YOU ARE READING
Draconia Offline vol. 1
FantasyHave you ever loved a videogame so much that you wished you were somehow magically transported into it? Tough luck, this isn't your typical isekai story where the protagonist ends up in a different world. The videogame becomes the new reality in thi...