Their Tale

Leave

Carefully I slip my bag over my shoulder, collecting my bag from the cab, I feel my phone vibrate in my hand. The name flashing across the screen sends me back into a place of perpetual sadness. Angel. I have chosen not to block him, but instead not answering his constant calls has had me debating on whether or not I want to. Honestly, it was the thought of what his words would be once I heard him that I was unsure of what would happen and what I would say.

The phone rings until it goes to voicemail, one of many that I was not listening to. I might not know what they say, but if there is one thing I did know. He was sorry. It just didn't feel like enough, not now at least.

When I stepped into the hallway of the apartment, standing outside my door, the name was the caller I had just avoided. In a full grey striped suit and simple black coat, he stood there in the glory that was his aura regardless of what he was doing. Though I could see bags under his eyes, the type he gets when he doesn't sleep well. No matter how well dressed, I know him, and he looks exhausted.

Still, in motion, he waits for me to walk to the door, which I do with the keys in my hands, not ready to face and hear him out because missing him is hard enough, "Please leave." I comment, brushing past him to get to the lock of the door.

I don't turn to see his reaction, but his subtle stumble is noticed before he gives an uncomfortable shift, "Please, just let me speak." Unlocking the door, I open it but turn before getting in, blocking his way, "Speak, command or lie. Seems you mix them up a lot recently."

My words seem to cut close to home, but him here, right now is not making anything easier. If anything, it makes it harder because now I know I miss him more than I ever expected to. I miss his touch, and morning voice, the conversations over breakfast and the way he holds us when we fall asleep. It was his entire self I miss. I just wish it didn't come with the memory of dishonesty, "Evita, please let me fix this, I need you both."

The tone of his voice was so lost and vulnerable, it felt like I was hearing him beg for us to leave with him all over again. A flash of Celeste's broken soul from this. Taking a step forward, I stop him with a gesture of my hand, shaking my head, "You need to leave, right now I don't need Celeste seeing you." I comment. She has been getting through this with her sponsor, but I don't think she is ready to see him yet, I know I was not.

"Is she okay, my calls won't go through. Not that I am surprised." I knew that Celeste had decided to block his number and any other that he had called her from after our fight in the kitchen. She missed her lover, but she also missed her dominance, and not knowing what to do with that pain, or how to feel about it, she simply felt she needed the space. It didn't mean I didn't notice the moments she would truly feel lost, because he was not there, "She makes a coffee for you every morning and cries in my arms thinking I am asleep. You need to leave; she can't see you right now."

What I can only describe as sorrow flashes through his eyes, "Are you okay?' He whispers, fearful of my true answer, but he needs to hear it because right now, I am too tired to lie, "No, I can't hate you for what you've done, because I still love you. Caught between needing to be in your arms, and can't stand you."

With a sorrowful nod, he runs his fingers through his overgrown hair. He needs a haircut. Trimming just enough off the bottom to allow his hair to reach the top of his collar. Long enough to be styled sophisticatedly and long enough to hold when climaxing.

Focusing on anything but that, but him. I begin to close the door when he stops it with his hand. Shocked, I look up at him, this withheld emotion burning through him "Give me a chance to fix this, please let me earn the trust I misused before."

I want to, heaves know I want to open this door and have him hold me as whisper sweet nothings into my ear, Spanish flirts and warm embraces, I want it all, but I don't want it if it is at the cost of trust. Fixing my focus on him, his eyes drawing me in as I fight them, "Not now, I don't know when but not now."

A heavy breath leaves his lungs before he lets go of the door, defeat on his shoulders, "I will go, but I won't give up. I can't give up on you both." Clear that I have said all I needed, he gives me a last look, pure love. Then steps from the door before I close it.

Leaning on its cold surface, I breathe through the emotions and get a glass of water before taking a shower and a well-needed nap.

Sleep comes to me quickly and for hours, I let it carry all the emotions and events that my life had consisted of recently. The sound of shuffling and then a dip in my bed brings me out of my sleep when I feel Celeste slip into the covers with me. She has a small amount of paint on her collarbone and tired eyes. Bringing her in, I embrace her in a kiss in hopes of giving her the strength I know she needs. She lets me go with a last kiss, her fingers brushing radical hair from my face, "How about we take a shower and I make us dinner?" A light and fresh breath through her words. Humming I agree and pull her closer me to by the waist, "That sounds amazing."

We do just that and take a shower. The feeling of Celeste running her hands over my skin with the scent of lavender brought me closer to her. The intimate moments of being able to care for her in the simplest yet cherished act, made the world, even for a single second as a water drop fell between us feel incomparable. It's after we get dinner, I sit with her as we begin to eat, "Angel was here today."

She stops eating suddenly, giving the words time to process before she can continue, "What did he say?" I set my plate on the coffee table, the sound of the TV filling the empty space, "He said he wanted to talk." Lost in thought, Celeste pushes her food around her plate so deep in thought, that I am sure she had blurred it all out.

With a change of position, she places her plate on the table to turn to me, "What did you say?" I take her hand in mine, out of comfort. I just don't know whose, "I told him to leave..." Continuing, I let my hands set in hers, "That I didn't want you to see him right now."

She doesn't say anything. She almost goes cold at my words, taking in what I had said. I don't know if she is mad at me for speaking her words, but at that moment, I found myself doing just that. Her tongue glides past her lips, but words don't pass them until seconds later, "I am not mad that you said that, it's true, I don't want to right now."

I move closer to her and drape my leg over hers, "One day we will need to speak to him though. You will need to speak and listen." Something in my words touches a nerve when she lets my hand go, manoeuvring my leg off of hers before standing from her seat, "I know I do, just, not now." Her words fade at the end.

"Okay," I whisper to her. With my words, she takes her plate and mine, "I have a long day tomorrow, are you coming to bed now?" Her words and questions are a clear indicator that she wants to end to conversation, "I will meet you there."

Whispering a shallow okay, she walks off and suddenly, I feel like maybe she had more to say. I just wish she would.