Infinite

Chapter 11

And thus, came the separation.

I began to push and to avoid... demanding that I could undo my own buttons, or wrap my own towel around myself. Any touch from him was sure to rekindle fire, and I was frightened of being burned for the first time in my life; for something strange had happened... and I was frightened that he, too could be harmed. No sense was to be made of my actions nor emotions. He held his gaze steady... though I knew he had to have been choking down a growl. I had felt his arms enough times to know him well.

It was three minutes to ten, and I was readying for bed when he emerged from his task of cleaning the washroom after I had bathed.

"Young master."

I looked up from my fumbling, welcoming a distraction from my frustration of not being able to tie a simple bow correctly.

"What is it?"

He stood there for a moment with glaring eyes and a chest which was rising and falling a slight more dramatically than usual. He seemed to be gathering himself. When he finally moved, it was toward the tie which was hanging limp upon the ruffles of my collar.

He knelt before me.

"Really, now... haven't I ever taught you to tie properly."

"I'm sure you have. I simply haven't needed to know previously."

"Ah, so you discarded my teachings?"

He looked at me with impishness, and I felt my heart flutter beneath his hands. I had hoped he hadn't felt it, though I knew he had.

"Only the ones which had no benefit to me at the time."

I replied with equal spite.

"I suppose that is a prime example of your character, is it not?"

I paused for a moment, calculating something in which I had no hopes of ever knowing.

"Not just mine."

"Ah, that's right. You are but an example of humanity... aren't you?"

"All is simply the way that is it."

I replied with a harshness I had not intended to let seep through my lips.

His fingers slid along the ribbon gracefully as he let go; a perfect bow hanging in their wake.

"I suppose you are right."

He said. His voice took on a darker tone, and he cleared his throat with a small cough. I leaned back on my hands, gazing up at the ornate ceiling tiles above me. When I heard him move again, his body drew closer to mine, and he hovered above me. He laced his fingers through my hair, and I sighed. Something ate away at my stomach. It was so grotesque and so loud, I feared it was a beast of its own caliber; something indestructible and mean. It felt angry, and full of grief. I suppose I was only trying to distance myself from my own sentiments... trying to make them into a conquerable monster. I knew if I let it, it would become such an insatiable master.

As his hands stroked along my cheeks, it grew in size and in intensity. My stomach felt as if it were twisting in knots and tearing its self apart at the seams. I could almost hear its angered cries as it screamed its way into my mouth,

"Stop it!"

I swatted his hands away, flinching as I ripped myself away from him. I scrambled back onto the sheets, hands gripping at the stark cotton. He looked both angry and confused, eyes churning and brows knitted together. I was suddenly breathless as I stared at him. I was shocked by my own actions. I looked back at him with the same boiling mixture of emotion he was emitting, and I felt my eyes burn with the tears I felt were too unnecessary and weak to spring. I blinked them away, scanning his person for any sign of threat, yet there was none. I asked myself why a simple touch had caused such a whirring reaction from me. His touch had always been different... and this new estrangement was alarming and worrisome.