Page 5 of Demonic Cage
“When did you come back to Luxembourg?” I ask angrily, more to divert my attention away from the dizziness. I rake my fingers through my blonde-purple hair. Nathan looks at me, then at my dark purple lipstick. He grimaces, which makes me pretty sure he doesn’t like the change. Interestingly, these details seemed to excite the shadow figure when I was with him.
Well, it’s because he was a creation of my imagination. Obviously, I dyed my hair purple and use strong makeup because I like it, and so, obviously, the person I’ve imagined will like it too.
“Do you want to come over to my place?” he suddenly asks, stepping closer. The question hits me, and I stare at him. Whodoes he think he is? He hasn’t contacted me for three months, and now, randomly running into each other at the cemetery corner, his first question is whether I will have sex with him? Okay, he didn’t phrase it like that, but he surely doesn’t want to chat.
Yet, as his chest touches mine, I don’t move away. I feel dizzy; the cemetery seems to sway and Nathan’s handsome face appears to stretch. I push my heel into the ground, making it clear that I’m here, that I’m still awake, that nothing is wrong. I have no idea what withdrawal symptoms are like. I never read about them and I never had to experience them, but my field of vision is narrower, my heart beats irregularly, and I just want to get out of here.
But when Nathan’s hand jumps to my face, I don’t resist. He takes my silence as consent and he kisses me.
Only now do I realize how much I missed his touch. I kiss him back. For a moment, I don’t think about anything except him, and how in the morning chill his warm lips touch mine, how he demands every little movement from me.
He ends the kiss so suddenly that I almost stumble forward.
He strokes the ends of my mouth with his thumbs. If I were younger, I might believe this to be a romantic gesture, but I know too well. The problem is that he knows too, and he knows my answer even without me saying it. I will go to his place and allow him to make me forget the whole morning.
I look up into Nathan’s eager eyes. Blond strands of his hair hang in front of them, and my purple lipstick has left marks on his mouth.
“I missed you,” he whispers.
“Then you could have called me.” I’m telling myself this too, hoping to come to my senses and withdraw from his embrace while I still can. I could turn away and leave him, like I left the shadow figure.
“I had to think.” He tilts his head to the side, as if he’s still pondering. “Now I’m here, right? Come back to mine, and we’ll talk.”
He probably doesn’t want to discuss anything, and I find myself not really wanting to either, even though it hurts that he left. But what does this say about me? Someone doesn’t contact me for three months, then a chance encounter and I immediately sleep with him? Am I that desperate?
And why am I even bothered about this? I have every right to use my body as I want. If it’s for forgetting, then I’ll use it for that, and…
My stomach suddenly tightens as if someone grabbed it, and my field of vision starts to waver. I push myself away from Nathan’s arms and lean on a reddish-brown, rugged tree. I press my hand to my mouth and swallow hard to hold back the urge to vomit. I sigh in relief when the nausea subsides. Damn withdrawal symptoms.
“Lotte?” Nathan’s voice sounds distant, and the heat of embarrassment washes over me. I wipe my mouth and look around, blushing.
“I haven’t taken my medication for two days,” I respond, answering the unasked question.
“Oh,” says Nathan, running his fingers through his blond hair. “So, are you coming?”
I almost burst out laughing at his agitation. Thanks, I’m fine, asshole. Not that I expected any sympathy from him, but a simple “how are you?” would have been nice. However, before I can say anything, Nathan’s phone rings. I put my hand on my nape to massage out the frustration, which I hope will subside once Nathan buries me under him. He looks at his phone.
“It’s Filip. Do you mind?” I nod, knowing that Filip is one of Nathan’s Greek friends. I won’t understand anything from their conversation anyway, so at least I’ll have time to calm down.“Hello buddy, you don’t have much time. Go ahead!” Nathan says in French, confusing me. Why aren’t they speaking Greek? As far as I know, Filip doesn’t speak French. Did he learn it?
Nathan tilts his head, nodding. “It’s fine with me. I’ll finish with her in half an hour.”
A chill runs through my veins. Finish with her? With me?! I blink, staring at Nathan, who smiles.
“I’ve already regretted inviting her over, but now I’ll just fuck her anyways.” He laughs. “Don’t worry, I’ll be quick, I promise. In half an hour… Okay, you can come over in twenty minutes, and…”
I slap Nathan so hard that his phone flies out of his hand. Who does he think he is? He looks at me as though he’s seen a ghost.
“What the hell was that, Lotte?”
“What the hell wasthat?” I ask incredulously, and my stomach jumps beneath my chest, almost making me laugh. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
He blinks in confusion. He takes me for a fool.
“You talk to your friend in front of me like this? In French?!” I yell.
Nathan shakes his head, and my fist clenches.
“Lotte, what do you mean—”
