The Fall

CLAIRE POV

Bach in the backseat of the town, car Xavier insisted on exemplifying the aforementioned expression pertaining to oral delights. It was easy to indulge him, wandering idly if passers-by could see into the tinted windows.

The next delectable pleasures came from an Italian cottage in the middle of the park. We sat at metal filigree tables on the soft green grass. Our maitre d encouraged me to remove my shoes to allow the grass to caress my feet.

The restaurant had the feel of a regular italian home, complete with muffled yells from the head chef. I doubted I would have heard her passionate howl without my currently extraordinary hearing, and it was a comforting break from the poised expressions of the other dining clientele. Their eyes did not linger as such, but I felt them taking tiny bites as they passed by again and again.

Maybe I was being paranoid.

I showed off some of my own linguistic talents to Xavier when the head chef came to talk about our meal. The round woman with red cheeks and bright eyes wove a tale of fancy in Italian. Telling us about which provincial towns the culinary delights had been sourced from. I translated for Xavier in a low voice and watched his eyes shine with some emotion I didn't quite understand, but it tugged at the strings of my heart nonetheless.

Back in the town car I pinned Xavier to the leather seat with one hand and demanded he allow me to showcase my other Italian inspired linguistic talents. Fair is fair after all.

Restaurant number three lived under the street level in an almost dirty part of town and was a futuristic asian-fusion adventure. Neon lights strobed and blaring K-Pop stole our ability to converse effectively, which meant the only senses left to focus on were taste and smell.

Back in the car, my mind was numb from the overwhelming underground experience, when I realised that Xavier had managed to tie my hands above my head with the seat belt. The leather interior of this motor vehicle was generous, but this man had broad shoulders and body to match, so I did not see how we were going to fit together.

I still didn't see how, but his hands traced patterns over my dress, drawing out moans of need, and fit together we did. Slowly. Tenderly. He kissed me softly and stroked me as I stroked the length of him.

As such, we were fashionably late for the fourth and final stop on this culinary exploration. It was a Turkish delight bedecked in metal filigree and plush velvets. Xavier's foot hooked underneath mine as we smoked shisha and enjoyed the rich play of spice filled dishes.

Wherever we went a trail of whispers followed us out the door. It appeared that Xavier was actually very new in town. Each gossip trail began wondering who he was, then someone would fill them in to a quiet round of gasps and 'Oh my'. The rest played out wondering who I was.

The most popular guesses were; One - That I was a princess from a foreign delegation in town on my tour of the avian courts. Or; Two - that I was a secret human mistress, destined to be cast off destitute when the next model appeared. Apparently Xavier was a bit of a playboy.

I looked at him drinking in every detail of me, and wondered if he was my playboy, or was I his toy? How I was going to fit into this world? Neither of the popular opinions were right and only one of the favored guesses was completely wrong.

11:20PM

CLAIRE POV

"I was promised a pregnancy scandal Claire. If anything your stomach looks flatter than it did when we started." Xavier pouted. The look did not suit him, but it dredged up a snort that cleared the way for a laugh.