Corrupted

Chapter 15

Brenn was the puppeteer; I was the puppet that he flexibly led to bed. I was drained of every bit of energy I had left. He placed his hand on my lower back, and my heartbeats raced me upstairs. 

When we arrived to the room, he told me to stay still while he searched through my closet. He came back with a long pink night gown. He proceeded to approach me. Without any words, he clutched his hands around my blue shirt and lifted it up. Then he unbuttoned my pants and removed them off me with swift movements. I was standing there half-naked, laced by my underwear, mute and vulnerable. My heart spoke for me with a loud drumming. 

-"Lift your hands," he ordered with a sweet low tone

I did. As he was putting the night gown through my head, I noticed the look in his eyes, and what a transparent look it was. His intentions were bright, clear and innocent. 

-"Care for me to tuck you in?" He said with a slight consoling smile.

I climbed up on my bed, which was barely 20 inches high, but after all that had happened, it felt like I was struggling through mount Everest. 

I was curled up in the high right corner of the bed, leaning on the wall when I felt the bed dip in. Brenn had effortlessly slid next to me.

-"Come here."

I whimpered in his rock-solid chest. 

-"Suicide seems like the perfect escape right now. Maybe she was right." 

-"Don't you ever say that! I don't want to hear such jabber come out of you ever again," he whisper-yelled.

-"Everything I have ever lived for was taken away from me. I don't have anyone left. My father is practically good as dead. I never see him, and after he hears about tonight's events, god knows what will happen to him. Remember when you promised that it's all going to be okay?"

-"Of course I do."

-"When's that time going to come?" 

-"Soon enough, darling," and he pecked me slightly on the lips, and without my permission, my lips kissed him back. We started to deepen the kiss, it grew hungry and needy. Suddenly, I could feel his light grinn on my neck, and that's when I pulled away and fell asleep deeply in his arms, eaten by guilt.

The day after, I woke up in the comfort of strange arms. We were now spooning, and I could feel his warm breath hit  my neck like a tidal wave, and with every breath he took, his chest slightly brushed against my back. I turned around and our faces almost collided. To my surprise, his eyes were open when I thought that he was gently sleeping.

-"Good morning beautiful," he exclaimed with his bright morning face, "how are you today?". His contagious smile and sleepy voice aroused me.

-"Could be better," I replied with a soft low voice.

He leaned in, kissed me passionately and lifted my body so I was straddling him. He pulled my face towards his and my soft breasts were sliding on his chest. Grief does stir up a lot of emotions in oneself. My hormones transisted between  the desire of crying my eyes out and the need for Brenn's touch. I was so confused. 

-"I want a memorial service," were the only words that could come out of my swollen lips.

Brenn straightened up, his face a few inches away from mine. I could see disappointment in his eyes no matter how  hard he tried to mask it.

-"We'll do whatever you want."

Finding comfort in his words, I hugged him tightly never wanting to let him go, and I found myself terrified of my heart's desire.

With his strong arms, Brenn lifted me off him and placed me delicately on the edge of the bed. He then stood up and got a nice orange dress from my closet. He offered me his hand, and proceeded to take off my night gown, still careful not to be cheated by his roaming eyes. His hands gently cupped my cheeks and planted a sweet warm kiss on my forehead.

"You look pretty."

I fought the butterflies in my stomach that apparently tangled my tongue and was able to slip out a few words, "It's the constant grief."

He let out a slight smirk as he noticed the sarcasm in my words. 

He held my hands and led me downstairs to the kitchen then let go of my hand and offered me a chair. In a hurry, he started opening the kitchen drawers and cabinets and pull out random ingredients.

I let out a slight laugh. "Let me do it, you look like you've never done this before."

"There's no reason for me not to start now," he approached me an crouched at my feet, "I want to take care of you."

I felt a warm foreign feeling surge through my body. It was alien to me. My hands slightly brushed on his warm face, "Let me do it, at least this time."

"Next time it's on me," Brenn exclaimed.

"Ok, until that next time," but on the inside, I wasn't sure of the probable existence of another night like this one.

He leaned on the counter and watched me work my magic in the kitchen. The outcome was two delicious dishes of eggs and sausages coted with a thick layer of cheese, just like the ones my mom used to prepare. The first meal I cook as the official den mother of this household was my mom's last. I guess it was some kind of eulogy, and Brenn understood.