Fooled by Perfection

Chapter 44: Roots

On Sunday, Dezman helped me do my hand exercises, and then he told me that he had some studying that he needed to do for a test he had at school the following day. I told him while he studied that I was going to go to the nail salon to get a pedicure. I wished that I could get my nails done, as it had been a while, but I still wasn't healed enough yet for that. I told him after I finished at the nail salon that I was going to stop and get my hair done by Larry. When I got home later that evening, he wasn't there. He had told me earlier in a text message that he and the crew were out doing some target practice, so I figured that they must still be out at a gun range somewhere.

When he came back to my place, I was just finishing up dinner. I made as close of a rendition as I could to an Armenian shish kabob dish that we called Khorovats, using an indoor counter-top grill. It's a dish we'd make that consists of grilled meat that's usually lamb, but I used beef instead. I paired it with some onions and peppers, and I also made a sauce on the side for Dezman to try. I made some pilaf rice to go along with it, as well as a close comparison to a homemade flatbread we call Lavash, because I wasn't sure which one Dezman would prefer to eat it with. I didn't have all the tools we'd use to make it back home, but I made it work.

When we sat down to eat, I explained to him the history of the dish first, and then he dug right in. When he let out a "Mmm" with his first bites of everything and then proceeded to eat all that was on his plate, I knew that he loved it and that he was ready to try some of the other recipes I had in mind that I'd grown up eating, because I knew that he'd love those too.

Speaking of history, I took the time to ask Dezman about his upbringing. I wanted to know where he lived for most of his life and what it was like. He wasn't too informative with the details, only telling me that he was originally from a place that I wouldn't be able to pronounce if I saw it and that he was moved around a lot after his parents passed, or at least more than what most would consider a normal amount. He said that he spent a lot of time learning the English language and studying different ways that he could make money, and that he executed his knowledge along the way. He stated that he had to be smart beyond the books and learn from teachers beyond the classrooms, but he mentioned that most of his skill sets started from trial and error. I accepted the vague details because I knew that it hadn't been an easy road for him.

We continued to sit at the table for awhile after we'd finished eating. He asked me to say something in my native language to him, and when I did, he asked me what I had said. I told him that I said, "I love you." He says back to me in Spanish, "Yo también te amo." It means "I love you too." I say back to him, "Te amo más." It meant "I love you more."

*Dezman*

Impressive. How many different languages do you speak?

*Ciana*

I tell him just a few. I explain to him that before I left Armenia, I already knew a good amount of Spanish and a little bit of English. I also told him that I understood the Russian language to a certain degree, as well as a tiny bit of French, but not enough to speak either fluently. He then said to me...

*Dezman*

I gotta catch up to you. That mouth runs circles around me.

*Ciana*

"Oh, I don't know. I think you do pretty well yourself."

I think, for the first time ever, I've made him blush. I watched him drop his head down, and I saw his tongue brush past his lips before he let out a light giggle, and a smile came over his face. When he looks back up at me, he says...

*Dezman*

Well isn't good enough. I gotta step my game up.

*Ciana*

Don't worry. It was a huge understatement.

*Dezman*

Are you done eating?

*Ciana*

I tilted my head to the side a little.

"Yeah. Why?"

*Dezman*

You got me about ready to lift this table up.

*Ciana*

I knew what that meant. I get out of the chair, and I walk around to where he's sitting. I lift my right leg up over him, and I sit on his lap. I rub my fingers through his hair as he goes up underneath my sheer nightie, grabbing my ass with both of his hands after he does so. We begin to kiss. When I pause for a breath, I tell him, "That was the plan."