Damnation Of Devotion ✔

9: Start Knitting While We Wait

{ AHT }

Five days, twenty-two hours, and eleven minutes since I left Ki's meadow.

This need for her is stronger, day by day. Talking and hearing her through the vial can only do so much. I often daydream about her lovely smile, her sensual touch, her indulgent scent, her everything.

So far, the inn has become less hectic, though it never stops being crowded. I don't know how Theo and his parents can handle this but goodness, I respect them more. Actually, I don't help. I work. They don't want to take advantage of me, so they pay me by the hour. I finally taste what a clean income is like.

Three days ago, I had an outing with Angeline, Michael, and their gang. They invited me to a posh restaurant, albeit after a talk, we went to Aunt Jac's. I don't have much in my savings, and their parents would've disapproved of me, a giant foreigner who's having lunch with them. Ki, from time to time, whispered funny comments along the way and I had to muffle my giggles. She likes these clueless and brilliant kids. Angeline questioned my behaviour and I had to come up with lame excuses. I shouldn't tell people about my sweetheart, should I?

Every night, Ki sings to me... Her voice is divine. Diviner than any being I've ever met. Probably biased since I love her, albeit she will win out against sirens! She also thought I was biased when I told her this. Still, she doesn't mind if I'm the only one who thinks so. I love it whenever she sings Stardust by Bing Crosby to me, knowing how much she misses me indirectly.

Ever since the first night away from her, I've disciplined myself. I know Ki loves me, happy in feeding me a fantasy of her, but as I said, through a vial isn't enough. I'm glad my insecurity has gone. She was so passionate... and it's enough. If we switch places and I have no sexual desire instead, I'd remain pleasing her all night and day.

When I showed her these films and TV shows, her excitement wafted from the necklace had made my day after a furniture issue in the dining area. I wonder how Mr Guthrie got these televisions since they were produced in small numbers. Perhaps welcoming all walks of life gives you access to things.

Like an Indian traveller made a stop here yesterday. From his drunken spiel, he revealed he was the son of a rich man and ran away in the middle of the war due to the caste system. He once stole his father's friends' wigs one night and placed them on a building's high roof under the sun. For extra crisp, he said. Then, he gave his father's mansion key to Mr Guthrie and took off, and the old man didn't know what to do. Ki witnessed everything. She even asked me to ask the traveller about what type of wigs they were.

A bit of hay by the way.

Now, Ki and I are debating about martial arts on my bed during a lunch break and watching an action movie on TV. She insists the knee strikes are the best move. Pfft!

"Come on, Ki!"

"Think about it. Your knees go pow pow! Onto someone's chest. Simple and lethal."

"Chokehold, if you are determined enough, can rip someone's head off."

Her jingling laughter fills this room, fills me with affection. She says, "Hurt, not murder. Anger issues again?"

"You know me too well."

"Violence isn't the first answer, love."

"I know diplomacy is first but difficult to determine which course of action—"

"People are cruel to you without a second thought, I know. I just don't understand. I had no struggle in letting people go or ending them."

"Ending by turning them to blood or dust?"