Entangled Souls

Chapter 2

The loud noise next to Peter's head put an abrupt end to his night's rest. His skull was buzzing. Had too many beers last night, he thought listlessly. He reached for his cell phone to finally silence the irritating ringtone.

"Hey, man. Awake already too?" asked a voice that was very familiar to him.

"What's this now? I would have slept another round if you hadn't ripped me out of it at this ungodly hour with that alarm from hell," Peter growled into the mouthpiece.

"It's already afternoon, you jerk. And in case you've forgotten, we arranged for tennis," Michael - his best friend since childhood - reminded him.

Shit, he completely forgot. With all of his private appointments it was no wonder. It's like he was driven, he hardly spent two hours in his apartment and only felt truly happy in the company of his friends. And he had had enough. Nature meant well with him. Grew up tall and equipped with an athletic body, he was already a beloved playmate in his childhood. Later he turned into a good-looking young man with the girls fawning over him in droves. He always wore his ash blond hair a little too long, which always left him looking rather roguish and unserious. His gentle, symmetrical facial features and flawless skin, with no hints of past pubescent acne, may have looked a little feminine at first glance but did not at all harm his attractiveness. Peter was an exceptionally handsome man and he knew how to take advantage of this. Coupled with that, he used his uncomplicated and open manner in such a way that it was quite easy for him to win people over. Perhaps this is why, four years ago, he decided to study psychology. Even though listening was never one of his strong suits, he was great at motivating a person without manipulating them. Peter saw the goodness in people first and was convinced that only via bad influences could a person commit wrongdoing. He loved working with people and could not imagine a different career path for himself, except perhaps a professional athlete. He was passionate about playing tennis. But in order to really earn his way with athletics, he may have been lacking in ferocity and stamina. In any event, his parents would have never financed such nonsense. They were already unenthused about his field of study and called it a moneyless art. Peter was their only child, but they had their principles and followed clear rules. 'The boy should learn a real trade' being one of them. What was wrong or right was up to them. His parents were invulnerable to his charm. They had shared with him early on that attractiveness alone was not going to get him through life. Hard work and discipline ultimately lead to success. Perhaps because his mother brought him into the world rather late, they were always strict and unyielding with him. But this time Peter asserted himself and decided to either study psychology or travel abroad. After a lot of back and forth, they admitted that they did not want to lose their son in the big wide world. Whether or not he actually would have gone through with this step, he was not really sure.

Although he had no desire whatsoever to exert himself physically in his condition, he promised his long-time friend that they would meet in half an hour at the tennis court. Always better to be athletic with a hangover than to spend the rest of the afternoon hanging around in his apartment. Plus the fresh air would certainly do him good before meeting Rosalie in the evening, with a little something expected at the end of the night. They only got acquainted with each other the previous night and he was enthralled with her from the very start. She radiated such joie de vivre and her flattering, feminine proportions drove him crazy, to be honest. She was funny to boot, and incredibly pretty. With her grey-blue eyes and dark hair, the wild curls tumbling down her back like a cascade, she looked a little immodest. But her delicate facial features dampened this ominousness. He immediately fell for her. Man, the way they laughed. Never before had he crushed on a girl so quickly, and without a second thought. He was no companion to depression, and he knew how to use his magnetism on the finer sex. He was able to engage in sexual activity quite early on. His friends really envied his ability to wrap every girl around his finger. But with time, the One-Night-Stands that ended with him sneaking out of the strange apartment the next morning began to bore him. But with Rosalie, everything seemed completely different. Sex was not the most important thing. On the contrary, he wanted to take it slow and give them both time. But should it come down to it, he would certainly not stop himself. Of course they had not yet spent much time with one another, but he felt changed in her presence. He was not able to bend her ears as he usually could. He listened enthusiastically to her statements and stories, which she weaved together humorously, until he could not stop laughing. If this evening would just go the way it seemed it would, then nothing could stand in the way of a long-term relationship.