Page 74 of The Space Traveller's Lover
“Please open the door, Shaillah.”
Rothwen’s pleading voice makes Shaillah even angrier. “Make me,” she dares him. “You can control me. You rule over me.”
“Never! When this door opens, it will be by your own decision.”
“What difference does it make?” she asks despondently.
“It makes a difference to me. I want to be with the real Shaillah—the one I wanted despite everyone and everything. If you want to be with me, on your own terms, please open the door!”
No sooner than he finishes his clamouring words, Rothwen feels the door moving behind him. He promptly jumps to his feet and readily smiles as the door slides open. But a disgruntled Shaillah is blocking his path, warning him to stay away from her, holding up the palms of her hands.
“Are you happy now?” she says in disdain. “Now you’ve seen me … you can go away. Go away!”
He frowns in disbelief, confronting her scolding gaze, trying to piece together the utter mess in front of him.
Her white tunic hangs in shreds, sticking onto her wet shoulders and legs; caked-up make-up is smeared all over her face; dirt trails cover herbody, even tarnishing her diamond necklace. Her oily, tangled hair is all knotted on top of her head in dishevelled matted tresses.
“What have you done to yourself?” Rothwen gently waves his hands in a calming gesture.
But Shaillah scowls at him, pulling her belt strap from her waist and yielding it over her shoulder, threatening to throw it at him.
Rothwen surveys the disorderly room. Jumbled fabrics and jagged broken mirrors lay scattered throughout the aisles. On the central pool, all kinds of rubbish float along with slashed cushions and ripped pieces of furniture. Long trails of glowing gemstone shrubs spill from the overturned golden vases.
“Don’t come any closer!” Shaillah warns him harshly.
He can see the wrath burning within her blazing eyes, like a runaway wildfire, ready to ignite anyone who would dare come near. But he walks towards her nevertheless. She backs away with a warning glare, kicking even more rubble into the pool with her bare feet.
“It’s all right, Shaillah. I’m making my way to the balcony to breathe some fresh air,” he calmly says.
As she realises they are reaching the end of the room, she hurls her belt at his face, letting all her anger explode in a howling scream. But he nimbly grabs the twisting straps and, extending them with both hands, wraps them around her waist, trapping her inside. In a flash, he is holding her against the wall, grasping both her hands behind her back, pinning her legs with his knees. She struggles to break free, desperately jolting and writhing as if caught in a tangled net. “Let me go!” she yells, banging her head against his chest.
Everything turns black, pitch-black inside her head. Her dizzy altered mind makes her sick to her stomach. As she starts coughing, Rothwen briefly loosens his grip, and she manages to free her hands. She hammers him hard on his face, neck, chest and shoulders, waves of fury rolling off her coiled fists. She rips his uniform apart, tearing open the golden clasps on his vest, renewing her pounding with even more force and rage, lacerating his skin with her split nails.
Rothwen bears it all without flinching. Like a stone wall, he takes everything she throws at him until, eventually, tiredness and frustration overcome her. Her limp pounding head ends up resting on his chest, hersore eyes and throat reminding her of every moment she has spent crying and shouting.
“I hate you. I can’t be with you anymore,” she sobs inconsolably.
Rothwen gently puts his hands on her shoulders, shaking her slightly until he manages to make her look directly at him. Their gazes clash in a sweltering flame, neither of them willing to stifle it.
“Tell me that again tomorrow. And I will leave,” he says, kissing her on her tight-lipped mouth.
Shaillah tries to keep her unforgiving stance, but Rothwen’s poignant words and imploring gaze are making her anger slowly fritter away. Her unyielding stare starts to soften up as she breathes more calmly.
“I see we both failed miserably trying to forget each other.” He chortles.
“Why have you come back?” She asks, her face changing into a frosty expression.
“Why? Why is it that, of all the places in this universe where I could be right now, I’m here with you instead?”
Shaillah closes her eyes and slumps her head on Rothwen’s shoulder while stroking his battered chest as if trying to make it heal even faster.
“Shaillah, look at me! Can’t you see? I’m desperate to …” He holds up her face close to his, their pupils almost touching. “I want to feel you, one more time, many more times. I want to feel … that long-lost sensation, that long-lostsheiren.”
“Sheiren, passion, love,” she breathes in deeply. Her whole body shivers as he runs his kisses over her matted hair.
“Your scent will always be like an elixir to me,” he tells her, drawing in the air from her sticky, sweaty neck.
“Do you love me, Rothwen? Do you love me?” She stares intensely at him, her eyes glazed with runaway passion.
