STARTED JAN 2023--
MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT. Viewer Discretion is advised.
Priscilla Pearl Wolfe is a Pornstar.
Halen Elle used to be.
That is until the apathetically charming jackass with a back pocket full of guitar picks and skittles moves...
"But if I lack love then I am nothin' at all..." ♩ Tell Him • Lauryn Hill.
WHATEVER YOUR HEART DESIRES
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"Wolfe."
The smell of coffee and the sound of Halen's voice lulls me from my deep sleep and my good dream of wandering through a beautiful meadow. I slowly inhale as my sound clears. My feet tingle in my socks as I stretch them against my warm bed sheets. Everything in me feels warm. It's cozier in my bed than I remember. Yawning, I nuzzle my head against my pillow and shift slightly. But, when the conscious feeling of my tingling skin hits me and I no longer have that morning numbness, I realize I'm resting on skin.
"Wolfe, get up."
I flutter my groggy eyes open and come face to face with Halen's bare, inked chest. I gasp and lift my head that was resting on his shoulder and untangle my own arms that are wrapped around his; hugging his bicep like a pillow.
Halen moves suddenly, sitting up and swinging his legs over to the edge of the bed; facing away from me.
The clicking and popping sounds come back, only this time, I know it's him, because he's uncontrollably jerking in front of me. It's the same thing he was doing last night. And it's unlike anything I've ever seen before.
"Music."
"P... Pardon?" My frazzled morning brain is no use now.
He responds in clicks, and grunts, and hums and I cock my head back in shock when his fist slams hard against his thigh, "Music. Put on music. Loud. Please."
"I..." I'm so confused. Not to mention, unsure of why loud music is the first thing he wants in the morning. But, my gut... it's telling me to take a leap of faith on him. For what reason, I'm not sure. I slide out of bed and walk to my radio player, pressing play on my 'Miseducation of Lauryn Hill' CD. It picks up where I last left off.
I turn it up and glance back at Halen, and he nods at me and shuts his eyes tight. He keeps them closed and his head jerks to the left so hard it looks like it hurts. His thigh is red now, and he hits it again, and again, and again. His throat contracts and he makes the same breathy squeaking sound he did days before that I thought was a sneeze and am now coming to realize, is not.
I slowly approach and sit down onto the bed next to him, "Halen, what's... happening? I'm not sure that I understand."
He doesn't answer me. He takes a deep breath and keeps his head hung, his body rhythmically repeating the same sequence of movements.
I feel discomfort in my belly; a wave of uncontrollable worry flushing through me.
I reach out to touch him, but it feels wrong.
"Should I do something?"
"Put a," He has to take a breath as his face and upper body spasm, "Put a pillow in my lap."
