Behind The Mask

Chapter 56

Anouk's POV

I surveyed Michael's disguise: a none too new and clean baseball cap, lumberjack shirt, baggy jeans and nondescript sports shoes.

"So I married a trucker", I sighed and walked behind him to hug him. I pressed my forehead in the middle of his back, feeling his toned muscles moving.

"But I'm your trucker, baby, yours and only yours", he answered and it felt good to perceive the vibrations of his voice.

"I know. And I'm your Boor woman, yours and only yours."
"You're a handful", he mused and I could feel the smile in his voice.

"Hey, you're not a cup of tea, either!" I retorted.

I walked in front of him and grabbed the lapels of his shirt pulling him down for a kiss.

"Do you know what you really are, Michael?"
"What am I?"

"You're a glass of the finest wine, smooth and fragrant, begging your lips to taste more and going right up to your head and making you giddy."

"And do you know what you are, Nooki? You are the breath of pure and fresh air of the Veldt. You are the taste of the forbidden fruit for me – freedom. Freedom to be myself, freedom to feel normal. And once I got a taste of you, you became my addiction and I could not live without taking another taste...and another...and another..."

His lips glided down my neck and for the next hour we didn't go anywhere...

Finally, we got dressed again and went out. It was towards dusk and people were going out of DisneyLand. It was closing time.

"We're gonna spend all day tomorrow there, Nooki!" smiled Michael.

"Just remember that baby Applehead doesn't like the rollercoaster, alright?"

Michael beamed and placed a hand over my still very flat belly.

"No dangerous rides for baby Applehead then. It says 10 years or older. So, you're allowed on it in 10 years, 7 months and 2 weeks."

"I'm sure he's writing down on his agenda. I'd like to see your face when he reminds you that you promised him a rollercoaster ride..."

Michael laughed and I was scared he'd get recognized. Michael has a very specific laughter. It starts on a high pitched note, like a teenage girl giggling, and ends up like the dying groans of a chocking hyena. People were looking at us, but not in the "look-it's-Michael-Jackson" kind of look.

"Young man, back in my day I would be ashamed to laugh like that in public", said an old gent who seemed to have a rod permanently stuck up his ass.

"He's not laughing, he's coughing. The Hanta virus or something, I don't remember what the doctor said. Now I see why he recommended home confinement", I answered sarcastically, and enjoyed the look of pure horror in the old fart's eyes.

Michael took my hand and we zigzagged away through the crowd.

"Nooki, you could get us quarantined or something!"

He tried to sound stern, but he was bad at holding in his laugh. This time it exploded louder than before and I was sooo sure we're gonna get caught this time. But we didn't. We were lucky on our honeymoon. I mean, we DESERVED at least this bit of luck on these days of all days...

Michael took my hand in his and used his nose like a retriever to find the shortest route to the waterfront. The sunset was behind us and painted the ocean in the most outrageous shades of crimson, purple and terracotta.
"We should take a picture. C'mon here!"