Needless to say, the next few days are a little strange.
It's not like I'm avoiding Danny or anything. I mean, I did nothing wrong, so I have no reason to actually try to stay out his way. And he did nothing wrong either. As far as I can tell, that's a natural part of life. So to put the blame on either of us for that weird moment is extremely difficult.
But I didn't really like it. I didn't like the way he looked at me. That isn't the Danny that I know. The one that I can turn to for the things that Mark doesn't know. Like the time I asked him to explain what was going on in Pretty Woman. I can't believe that poor woman was selling her body for money. Are there people in the world that are so desperate that they have to let men touch them in places I can hardly even imagine, just to get a bit of money in their pocket? It doesn't seem right. It doesn't seem fair.
And it was Danny that had to explain it to me. Mark had no idea, of course. He sat there as confused as I was. So when Danny told me what had happened, I went straight to him and told him. And he was mortified. Said that even though he has no particular love for women other than me, he wouldn't wish that on anyone. I then got a massive cuddle and was told never to do that, no matter how bad things get.
I must say that I was a little confused by that. Why would I sell my body? Why would I submit myself to anyone apart from him touching me? I don't need money. I haven't needed it since I moved in with them. And even if I did, I wouldn't stoop to that level of humiliation in order to get some. If I'm ever going to be able to do that act of...whatever it is you want to call it, then it won't be for money. And it won't be with a stranger.
It'll be with Mark.
But I'm not sure I even want to do that any more though. Not since the other night. As much fun as the girl looked like she was having, I can't seem to brush off the way he looked at me. I didn't like him looking at me that way. And the way he pulled himself towards me just before I walked away...didn't like that either. I didn't like any part of what happened that night. And I just want to forget it.
So that's why I've kept away from him. Sort of. Like I said, I'm not in the wrong. And neither is he. And I'm not even that embarrassed to have witnessed it. I just didn't like it. And don't want to trigger memories.
“Alright, love?”
Well. There goes my master plan of avoiding him, isn't it? I forgot he smokes too. I mean, I don't as much as I used to. But I still need one every now and then. And today seems like the wrong time to have needed one.
I feel him take a seat next to me on the steps outside the door. I shuffle uncomfortably as he lights up, wishing that I still had that ability to smoke really quick. But since Mark came along, I very rarely want to smoke. And when I do, I take my time with it. Savour it. Keep myself from needing another for as long as possible.
“Not seen you for a couple of days. How you been?”
“Fine.”
“I know what that means. I'm an expert when it comes to women, you know. So come on. Tell me what's wrong.”
My insides twist with rage. He knows what's wrong. Even though there is nothing wrong, he knows what it would be if there was. And to sit there and have the fucking nerve to try and make me initiate this conversation...
But then I stop that thought and think of things in the long run. I mean, I'm in a relationship. One that both myself and Mark hope to be as normal as possible. We want to be able to turn to people we meet and not have them think we're some lunatics that got shoved together to fix their problems. We want them to think that we just met and liked each other and decided to want to be in this relationship. Just like normal people do.
