Alvarez

Thirty-two

Her heart was as tender as a rose, his love protected her heart; as a thorn that protects the rose. - Luffina Lourduraj.

Mia
We seem to have fallen into a new arrangement. I know I'm definitely enjoying it, and I see no complaints from him either. We talk, we go on 'dates', we have astronomical, mind-blowing sex, and there's no feelings attached.

At least on his part. He does occasionally show the random bouts of care and concern like he did from the beginning. The other part of the time he's degrading me in his bedroom. I, on the other hand, have definitely had feelings I can't seem to control. I've been ignoring my mind, and the race in my pulse when he's near me, and the pang in my chest when I feel his touch. Something's...changed between us.

He built a step for me, on the roof. A little spot for me to stand. He took me up there himself the other day, and he had a telescope fitted in for me too. I felt tears in my eyes, as he told me he knows I love the stars, and this was his way of giving them to me. It was the most cheesy thing I've ever heard, and I mocked him terribly for it but in truth, it was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.

For the first time in a while, I feel safe. I feel like I'm home. I don't know what it is, but ever since Georgia died and I found out everything, I feel like a massive weight has been lifted off me. Christian took care of everything, not even letting my mind stray for one second. All of Georgia's men were 'taken care of', and things were quiet. Even though Michael is very much still around, I just feel free. He's been radiosilent, living somewhere in Brooklyn. I still haven't heard from Tony.

I wish Christian would stop killing people for me, but it doesn't end. I feel horrible, absolutely guilty. I'll never understand why I'm such a target, and I don't understand why he goes to such lengths to protect me. His words are always ringing in my head. "You don't understand, Mia. I'd kill a man for the way he looks at you alone. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't think straight anymore. Every single sense of morality, of any sense I'd ever had has been replaced with thoughts of you. Day and night, all I have in my head is you." I catch my breath. Something lingers in his eyes and he corrects himself before I notice. "Your safety, I mean." I smile at him, but his words have already embedded in my brain. That was just this morning. He catches me off guard all the time with the things he says.

I got promoted to a junior lecturer at the University. I have no idea how it happened but I know Christian had nothing to do with it. My students and I have a really good relationship and I'm going to miss them when I leave New York.

When I leave New York. Yeah right. My plans to leave this city have been thrown out this 3 story house never to be seen again. I can't even think about leaving right now, because Christian is the only thing in my head. I thought my brain, my heart and I had an agreement of our own. Do not let the heart get involved, the only things to get involved are my head and my clit. That's all.

While I may not be hopelessly in love with him (yet), I definitely felt something. Our usual spark was still there, brighter than ever in the darkest nights New York ever had, but besides that it's been something else. Since Georgia died, it's like Christian is calmer. He's not on edge, he's relaxing with me more, and he even seems lazy sometimes. It's very odd but I like it. I like seeing him more relaxed. He's always on guard and focused. When he's with me, it's almost like the rest of the world slips away.

I'm making dinner tonight, he had to stop at the bar on his way home. I don't know why he doesn't drink as much as he should, the occasional glass of whiskey now and then. I feel like there's so much he wants to tell me, so much he wants me to know but he doesn't feel like we're there yet. I still don't know what I'm doing here, but I know I have to leave, eventually. He told me we needed to go to the bar together but everything got derailed with Georgia so we never got the chance. Christian is the type of man who's lived a life that can be adapted into a novel, his experiences and life story is pages upon pages that needs so desperately to be read and unraveled, yet he refuses to talk much about it. Whatever I knew of him, were stories heard through the grapevine. Anything he had to say, I was certain I'd listen. I just wish he'd take the chance.