Dancing In His Storm [BxB] √

18.2: A Secret Affair

AUGUST

"How'd you like the painting?" I almost jumped out in complete shock when I heard Ambrose speak from behind.

I turned my head to have a better view of him and he was looking rather fresh and comfortable that I'm starting to get jealous. I feel utterly disgusted by the stickiness and the smell of my body while Ambrose just got out of the shower and he's all feeling refreshed. He's wearing nothing but a towel on the bottom half of his body while the top was all for my eyes to scrutinize. I never thought I would see this Grecian body once again but here it is all for me to gaze upon at. There were grains of water still forming on his toned muscles, some of them are cascading down making him look even hotter than he already was. The little gay August hiding inside of me was already melting like cheddar cheese as the air around me turned a little bit humid. If I could just run towards him and lick his pumped chest, to his seductive armpits and down to those toned stones on his belly, I would've done it.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Ambrose uttered raising his arms as he combed his wet hair using his fingers. I almost shit myself looking at his armpits and those flexed arms.

"You startled me." I replied almost rushing to compose myself. It's getting hotter and hotter but I have to keep my cool. "Jesus. If I looked like l saw a ghost that's probably because of this house." I replied almost scrambling.

"Oh, so you're telling me that our house is haunted?" Ambrose began inching his way towards where I was standing.

He smelled so much like roses and vanilla extract which was making me feel so much humiliated about my current state. Even with the strong fragrant smell coming off from Ambrose, I can still smell myself and it was awful. My breath smelled like I've been eating shit for the whole day and my body seemed to be letting out the vapors from all of the alcohol that we had consumed last night.

"Maybe, I don't know. How old is this house?" I asked back just evidently curious about the age of this house. It looked old and new at the very same time but the feeling inside feels like it's from an older era, not that I was alive to know that but I just feel it.

"Well my great great great grandfather built this house a long long time ago. I guess this house had been here for six generations." Ambrose was already standing behind me as he spat his assumptions about the age of this house.

"This is your family right?" I asked as I tried to scrutinize the almost realistic painting hanging on the wall right in front of me. It's so huge that I felt relatively small. Even just being inside this house, I feel like an ant crawling on the floor.

"Ahuh."

"And I'm sure that's you." I pointed right exactly at the baby carried by this woman whom I reckon is Ambrose's mother.

"How'd you know that?" Ambrose spat in utter bewilderment.

"Because you don't look like this one," I said pointing to this older boy standing right beside the woman. The painting appeared so much like it was a photo that I noticed they don't have anything in common. "You have a brother?"

"I do but he's dead." He spat almost in a deadpan manner.

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." I uttered as I felt a bit sad hearing it. My mind quickly thought of the grave that I just saw outside under the century old looking tree. That could be Ambrose's older brother buried right there.

"You don't have to be sorry. He deserved it." Ambrose trailed and I can hear no sympathy, no anything from him.

"What? How could you say that?" I was about to yell at him but I controlled my voice taking in consideration that I'm inside Ambrose's territory. I still have to act respectful and all of the kind of shit. I sounded instantly perturbed by this attitude coming from him. It's not that surprising coming from Ambrose, he's all that, but it's his damn brother, how could he fucking say that?

I'm starting to feel a bit upset about Ambrose. My heart pumped faster not because it's feeling something romantic but it's pumping because it felt triggered. If I'm like a short fuse like him, I would have exploded right at this moment but I'm not that type of person. I wanted to give Ambrose the benefit of the doubt and pretended that I'm okay with him saying that. There might be a deeper reason as to why he sounded unsympathetic or even sorrowful about his brother being dead.

"I never got to meet him quite honestly." He confessed and the confidence in his tone made me believe him.

"What do you mean you have never met your brother?" I asserted basically repeating what he had just uttered. "But..." I pointed right at the painting.

"I was still a baby when he died." Ambrose revealed and it kind of made sense even just by looking at the painting.

"How did he died?" I asked eventually realizing that I know basically nothing about Ambrose's life. This was probably the beginning of me getting to know him and it sounded so much fitting considering how we both admitted that we liked each other. All I know about him was he was a big bully and today, that changes.

"That's been a question that I've been asking myself for years. I don't exactly know how did he died. My mom has never told me anything about his death, even my dad was so quiet about it." Ambrose replied and he sounded skeptical about the reason why his brother died. "But all I know was my mom blamed me for my brother's death for years."

"What?"

"Yeah, I don't know how grieving fucking works but my mother used to be okay when I was a toddler. But then as I grew older she started to become an emotional shipwreck and blamed me for my brother's death."

I stood speechless hearing Ambrose's story. I am so much stunned that I can't think of anything to say in order to comfort him. I can't even relate because I knew my mom loved me so much. I haven't fully recovered from her death but I knew, wherever she is up there, she's watching over me.

"I just feel like I never really had a mother. I'm still glad that they still pay for everything that I need but I never had their moral support." Ambrose continued and although he was telling it casually, the feeling that I'm getting was all sadness and pity.

"That's hard to hear." I spat. The air felt quiet and sad that I don't know if I should give Ambrose a tight hug.

"Maybe that's one of the reasons why my parents left me here. They don't want anything to do with me."

"Don't say that, Ambrose." I spat. "Since when did they start living in Highmont?"

"Just about two years ago. I know it's because of my dad's secret business but my mom doesn't have to go with him. My mom could've stayed here and live with me but she insisted on going with my dad."

"I just really want to hug you right now." I spat and it's the only decent response that I could think of. It's unfortunately difficult for me to take all of this in. "But you're still wet."

Ambrose went quiet and just hugged me like he needed this hug from someone. I hugged him back and we stayed in each other's arm for quite a long time until Ambrose decided that he's had enough of my physical comfort.

"Ugh, you smell like shit." He spat in an attempt to shake all of the sad and pitiful air out of the window.

"I know." I let out a short embarrassed chortle.

"Why don't you take a shower?" Ambrose offered.

"I...I don't have any clothes."

"You can borrow some of mine."

"What about my underwear? Oh never mind. I can go commando."

I ended up taking a shower and it was everything that I needed. The feeling of being fresh and clean was just a small part of it. I needed this time alone even inside the shower room to let all what I've learned sink inside my head. I have never imagined Ambrose living in this big house alone with no parents to talk to. If I was him, the solitary alone would stab me in the head. If you put the stinking loudness of silence in the mix, it would probably kill me twice. I now know what's going on Ambrose's life but I don't think it's more than enough for me to understand him yet.

He's like a thunderstorm and I'm just a confused weatherman struggling to understand him.