Page 42 of Monarch
Xir smile feels cruel and insulting. “Wow, you’re finally cutting the umbilical cord. Maybe you have grown up a bit.”
“Fuck you, Lex,” I hiss. There isn’t anything else I want to say.
“Yeah, you keep saying that, and yet, when I tried to fuck you, you pushed me away.”
Rage boils over inside me. My cheeks flush lava-hot, and my eyes hurt from the dry, angry stare I’m giving Lex.
“You can see yourself out,” xe looks back down at xir painting again. “And tell Roos I’ll call her later today.”
It feels like blood vessels are erupting all over my skin. I’m almost convinced I’ll be covered in bruises later. I can feel my heart thumping inside my rib cage, so furiously, I think it wants to escape the confines it’s been perfectly happy with for twenty-nine years. And I know I have to leave for my well-being more than anything.
I’m at the studio’s door when I finally realise what I want to say to xem. “You know” – I don’t wait for xem to look up, and I don’t expect it – “it’s pretty fucking ironic that the person who taught me how to love is now the person teaching me how to hate.”
Lex gives me nothing. Xe sits as still as a statue, xir eyes downcast, unmoving.
But I don’t want anything from xem anyway.
I walk out of the studio, thoroughly pissed off there isn't a door to slam behind me.
Chapter Eighteen
Lex
Itake three deep breaths before I move. Three deep breaths to come back to my body. Three deep breaths to allow my heart rate to slow. Three deep breaths to ensure Mari is long gone.
My legs feel shaky as I walk to the door, slide it closed, and lock it behind me. I don’t allow myself to look for Mari’s retreating back, for that godforsaken scarf, before my studio is all sealed up again. I need my bubble. I need to escape the outside world. I need to create.
But first, I need something else – something more.
My lips are still sore and swollen from our kiss, and I brush my fingertips over them before gliding that hand down my body and shoving it inside my trousers and underwear. I’m as wet as I thought I was, and I waste no time. I rub my clit in harsh, tight circles. It’s so rough, it starts to hurt after a short time, but that’s what I want. That’s what I need.
Besides, I’m so turned on from our kiss that in no time, I’m coming. Holding my breath, squeezing my eyes shut, and thrusting into my hand like that will give me the relief I need. I don’t make a sound until the orgasm has faded away, and I exhale slowly.
I slide my hand out of my clothes and keep it hanging ominously in front of me as I walk to the stainless-steel kitchen sink and wash my fingers clean. As I wipe them dry, I’m overwhelmed with the urge to cry, to sob, to fall to my knees and roar with tears and pain and all the mess that is buried inside me.
But I don’t. I refuse to.
I’m tired. Mari being here – in my sacred space – has thrown me so much, I can feel the pull of my work getting thinner, more threadbare than it was a moment ago. And I don’t want that. Can’t have that.
So I push away from the sink and crouch down in front of the canvas again. It’s an effort to lift my brush, to move the paint, and to pick up where I left off, but after a few strokes, I find the pull again. I’m aware but not surprised that it gets stronger as I continue to think about Mari as I paint. About their lips. Their taste – sugar and strawberries and a sweetness I have never deserved – and their breath on my lips a moment before I touched them with mine. Even recalling the words they spat at me, the scorn they looked at me with, and the way they hinted they may be staying in Amsterdam… All these things not only torture me, but they also spur me on. They have me falling back into the dreamland I am safest in.
My escape. My sanctuary. My art.
Chapter Nineteen
Mari
Roos looks like a dream when I see her standing next to the canal, her face illuminated by a streetlamp above her head and her hair blowing in the chilly breeze that reminds me just how close winter is. And yet I feel warm when I look at her. Hot, in fact. And melting. My insides are melting. Dare I say it, my heart is melting for her, too.
I suck in a sharp breath, shocked at this realisation as I walk down the narrow pavement towards her.
Because, while I don’t mind the heat and liquid between my legs, I am more bothered by my heart responding in such a way. I don’t want to fall for Roos. I don’t want to have her fill more and more of my future. I don’t want that to then make me blinkered and biased when it comes to mapping out my next steps. I can’t fall in love with her. I can’t make her my reason to stay.
At least, not right now.
For some reason, with this resolve to keep my heart locked up tonight, I also decide not to tell Roos about Lex. About my seeing xem and about our kiss. The two issues aren’t directly connected, but it selfishly brings me more peace than I perhaps deserve to tuck both of them inside a locked box that I then put up on the highest shelf in my mind.
“Hello, you.” Roos’ face breaks out into a smile when she sees me crossing the cobblestone road towards her.
