Kazimir Seasons

/21/

This was the moment I needed, her gentle hands smoothing my face. I was going to save this moment for a lifetime.

I tilt my head to the side as I face her. I open my eyes to see her look at me as if a memory was playing in her mind.

I place my hand on her wrist when she tries to pull away. I hold it tight, tugging her close to me as I place my hands on her waist pulling her onto my lap.

"What are you doing?," Her voice wasn't protesting, she was confused by my action. "You ask too many questions," I stated as she started laughing.

"No, I don't. You're just confusing," she said, playing with her hand. I locked my hands around her waist so she wouldn't run.

"Stop this is wrong," she said as if something hit her she tried to get off my lap but my lock was strong on her.

"What is so wrong?" I asked as if she looked at me dumbfounded. "You have a fucking girlfriend how could I forget I'm so fucking dumb," she said smacking her forehead.

"What?" Those were the only words that could escape my mouth, a girlfriend? I have been saving myself for her for two years.

"I saw it on google you left some fancy restaurant with this gorgeous supermodel," she points out as I stare into her eyes I noticed what it was.

She thought so she had shame on her face as if she broke her morals. "Summer I'm a one lady man. I don't do stuff like that, plus she was my client and she wanted me to buy her fashion line." I state holding both on her face so her eyes meet mine.

"Well this is still wrong, you're my boss," she states, going back to playing with her fingers. She did it whenever she was scared or nervous.

"This isn't work" I reminded her as I pointed to the large glass window in the living room pointing outside. "That doesn't mean anything, it's snowing so what," she states, finally meeting my eyes.

"So this isn't the hospital," I reminded her.

"Why four?" She asked about tracing the tattoo on my upper wrist. "I find it hard to believe you believe in Angels?" I chuckled because she had no idea that she was real then.

"I didn't know you were capable of that," she said, still tracing my tattoo. "Capable of what?" I asked, knowing what she was about to say.

"Chuckling, I find it hard to believe your human," she said, now playing with the bracelet that was originally hers. "I find that abhorrent. You're touching me right now I think that proved I'm real,"

"I don't know how to explain it, it feels like your response is programmed and not natural if that makes sense." I take in her words some words my mother would say.

•••

I don't know when it happened but it did, many might say it was due to a childhood trauma that shaped me like this due to my environment.

But others might argue that I was born this way. My mother thought it was a curse God put on her because she struggled to connect with me as a newborn.

She said I never really cried and when I did it was as if we weren't meant to be. She said since birth she felt a disconnection from me.

"I'm telling you, there is something wrong with my son," she whispered as my seven years old self listened outside the kitchen door.

"Yes, he has always been like that he just doesn't have fear, when I catch him his calm to calm for a kid who just got caught as if consequences don't exist," she whispered to someone, she was on a phone call.

How can she talk about me like this? I'm the perfect son, I tend to her ego when she needs me to how
Can I not be perfect?

I enter the room and I watch her move around the house looking out the kitchen window. "Mother, I did my homework," she screamed as she dropped the phone and the glass vase she was holding.

"What the hell, Kaz, you can't scare people like that?" She said, ending the call. Her hand was now cut badly as blood dripped. "Why because you were talking badly about your son?" I asked as I walked closer to her.

My eyes held her nerve blinking. Her heart rate was beating so loud I could hear it. I move my eye from her to her bleeding hands back to her eyes.

She was observing me as if she was waiting for a reaction. "Did I do something wrong?" I asked her, looking at her blue eyes that mirror mine.

"No baby it's just that most kids would've rushed to help out their mother when they saw a big cut on her hand," she said, moving to the sink to wash her hands.

A reaction? I walk over to pick up a cloth and I hand it to her giving her what she wants. She smiled as if a miracle just happened.

•••

"My mother would agree with you," is all I could think about as I erase my childhood memory from my mind. "Is she still alive?" She asked as I sensed fear in her tone as if she might regret asking me.

"No, she passed away when I was seventeen," her eyes tried to study mine. "Why did you say it like that? Did you not like her?" She goes back to playing with her hands.

I place my hands with hers as I bring them up to my lips placing a soft kiss on the back of her hands. She takes a deep breath leaning into my touch.

"Summer, you're the most gorgeous woman I ever laid eyes on," my words held truth so what if I was being biased?

No woman in any universe can match her beauty, her brown eyes had Angel halos inside. As if they lit the room or saw hope in someone.

She lets out playful screams as she shyly hides her face in my chest. I'm guessing she didn't do well with compliments even though she was told them almost all the time by men.

"You're just saying that to say that," she said softly, still hiding her face. "No, I said because when I find out if you a begger or a screamer I still want to see your face,"

That caused me to get her attention as she removed her head from my chest and let me in the eyes. "What makes you think you'll ever find out," she said with confidence.

"You seem like the type to let me fuck you, and beg for me to cum inside you while you scream my name," my words lift her speechless as she licks her bottom lip.

Yeah, she was both, she just revealed it all to me. Summer my dick is going to have you in a spiral, you have no idea what's in store for you.