BDSM SOCIETY: A Gentleman's Kiss

CHAPTER 11| So Close

Isang tunog mula sa piano ang nagpagising sa akin. Ngunit imbes na bumangon ay nakapikit ang mga mata ko itong pinakinggan. Lihim akong napangiti nang mapagtanto ang title ng kanta. It's Elvis Presley's masterpiece— Can't Help Falling In Love.

The chords changed the same with the dynamic. It's more solemn and relaxing. From the very beginning of it, I knew what the song was. It Might Be You by Stephen Bishop.

Hindi maipagkakaila ang kagalingan niya. Kanina pa kaya siya tumugtog? Ano kaya ang mga iyon maliban sa dalawang sayusay na narinig ko?

Ang isiping kanina pa siya tumutugtog ay nakakapanghinayang. Dalawa lang ang narinig ko. Sana nagising ako nang mas maaga. Hearing the sound and harmony created by the piano's chords was not tiring to the ears but made me ask for more.

I opened my eyes when the sound stopped but it landed on his brown sparkling eyes staring at me. The curtains that served as cover from the room and balcony were pushed aside. Only the glass wall that made us stumbled. Nakaharap siya sa gawi ko habang nakaupo at tumitipa. There's a mug of coffee on top of the piano. He smiled and uttered the words 'Good Morning' passionately.

With his black minimal printed shirt that was larger than my body and comfy pajama taller than my legs, I got up from his bed and walked inside the restroom. Seeing my self-reflection burst upon me entering the restroom made me grimace. I tied up my hair into a bun before washing my face and gargled a mouthwash. Pagkatapos kong magpunas ay lumabas na ako.

Nakita ko siya sa balcony na naghahanda ng pagkain sa maliit na mesa.

Nahagip ng mga mata ko ang kagagawa lang na painting. It was me sleeping.

"Easel?" Binalingan ko siya. "Why?" tanong ko sa title ng painting niya.

"You're like an easel with a canvas. Pure and untouched. Legs are spread apart waiting for its artist begging for art." Why was it sounded like it had allegorical in meaning?

"Are you really that good in arts? The art of painting. The art of singing and instrumenting. And, the art of speaking without showing its hidden meaning. What else?"

"The art of capturing the art of beauty." Kumunot ang noo ko at nahagip naman ng aking mga mata ang DSLR camera na nasa gilid niya. Mabilis kong ginalaw ang aking kamay upang kuhanin iyon ngunit naging maagap siya at tila alam na ang nasa isip ko. "You can't see what's inside," aniya.

"And, why not?"

Ngumisi siya. "That's for me to know, and for you to find out." Naglagay siya ng pagkain sa plate na kaharap ko. "Let's eat."

Nakanguso akong umupo. "Saan ka nga pala galing ng foods?"

"I bought it at a convenience store on our way here." Sumingkit naman ang mga mata ko.

"So, you've planned this ahead?"

"You guess," nakangisi niyang tugon saka ako nilagyan ng buttered shrimp.

Masarap din siyang magluto. Ano pa kaya ang hindi niya kayang gawin? Tiningnan ko siya.

"Parang lahat ay na sa'yo na. Ano pa kaya ang kulang?"

"Ikaw," diretso niyang tugon na ikinatahimik ko.

I looked down on my plate. "Huwag mo akong ibigin, masasaktan ka lang. I'm like broken glass, that anyone who dared touch me will get wounds and will bleed."

"No. For me, you're like an unfinished reassembled puzzle. Desultory and confusing to assemble. But when every piece of you put according to its place, people will look at you with astonishment and wouldn't dare disarrange you, again. And I want that person who will guard you so that no one dares destroy you."