You can move away from your problems, but your problems will still be your problems. Bryce and Michelle try to pick up the pieces of their lives after getting married and being in a near fatal plane crash. Taylor begins his quest to move on from his...
Read this chapter after reading chapter four of this same story *****
MESSIAH
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I inhaled and then exhaled, as I opened the door to my bedroom. I leaned against the wall to let him walk inside. I walked in behind him and closed the door. We were in total darkness until I clapped my hands. Taylor gasped when he saw...the huge portrait of the Filoli. I had commissioned the portrait a week after I had met Taylor. It was truly a masterpiece and it was all for him. For those who don't know, the Filoli was the mansion used for the exterior and aerial shots in the series "Dynasty." It was also used in the first episode, but was later replicated on a Hollywood sound stage. I smiled as he awed at the portrait. He was so fascinated with it that he didn't notice me walking up behind him.
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"You like it," I asked softly. He nodded his head. "It's yours...if you ever leave me."
That comment snapped him out his trance, as he turned to look at me.
"Leave you? What do you mean? You want me to stay here?"
"Not forever," I mumbled. "Just...as long as you can stand me. But, we'd have to talk about that."
"Would I sleep in here...with you?"
"Only if you promised not to interrupt my sleep pattern," I answered as he stared at me. "I sleep in stages."
"It seems like everything you do is in stages, Messiah," Taylor smirked. "Do you make love in stages, too?"
"I don't make love. I told you. I fuck...plain and simple," I corrected him. "You and I have a lot to discuss. Come on."
I took his hand into mine, and led him out of the room. I slowly closed the door behind us.
"Where are we going?"
"If you are going to do this, you have to submit yourself to me. These numerous questions you ask can become a bit...annoying. Just follow and I will show you."
Taylor sighed, "I'll try. But, this is all starting to sound a little bit...weird."
We walked back towards the kitchen, where I pulled out a stool for him to sit on. I released his hand, as I walked over towards the refrigerator and pulled out a huge plate of assorted fruit, cheeses, crackers and sour cream. I set the plate down on the marble counter in front of him, as I turned to go back in the refrigerator for a bottle of wine.
