Page 73 of Love is Strange
I let out an unhappy sigh as I turn the knobs on the faucets slowly, trying to keep them from making the creaking noise he’s been promising to fix for three weeks now.
I hold the tips of my fingers underneath the small torrent of water and decide it’s good enough. Reaching for one of the hand towels, I unfold it from its small square shape then refold it again once, holding it under the water, and proceed to clean myself up as best as I can.
I’ll shower when Icarus wakes up and we’ll more than likely fuck again in the shower, but it’ll be best that way because once he’s done, I’ll remind him about the rules and make him promise to agree to them again.
I smile slightly as I lean over toward the sink and let more water fall onto the small towel as I think of Icarus. He told me his parents named him that because they had a feeling he would befall the family curse of burning all of his bridges. I remember how sad his eyes were when he told me that story and I remember promising him that as long as he was willing to love me, that I would be the one bridge he could never have to burn.
But sometimes I wonder.
His rage can be a thing of terror at times, and even though I’ve always managed to calm him down in the past by making him leave until he’s regained his senses, there seems to be something different about him lately. Something that makes him quick to anger and slow to forgive. I tiptoe around him for the most part because of that—even though I know he would never turn his rage toward me.
Once I’m satisfied that I’ve done a good enough job that I can for the moment, I toss the small towel into the hamper then quickly wash my hands before turning off the faucet.
And that’s when I feel him.
Icarus runs his hands up and down the length of my arms and presses his body against mine.
“I’m sorry, Ells,” he whispers for what seems like the hundredth time. I lean back against him and tilt my head up, looking into his golden-brown eyes, smiling as best as I can.
“I know, Rus. I’m sorry too,” I reply, finally admitting that I had some fault in the matter.
He lets out a huge sigh of relief as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me tightly against him.
“Good. I was starting to get a complex,” he confesses with a nervous laugh.
“That’ll teach you,” I say with a smirk as I turn to face him. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and tilt my head to the side, laughing when he makes a goofy face at me.
“Why don’t we get into the shower and get cleaned up,” he suggests with a salacious wiggle of his eyebrows.
I giggle, but nod.
I’ll make us some lunch and when we’re sitting down to eat, we’ll go over the rules again.
Chapter Five
“This is fucking great, Ells,”Icarus praises earnestly. I smile as he takes another forkful of yesterday’s lasagna and uses a piece of garlic bread to swipe up some of the cheese and sauce on the plate.
“Thanks, Rus. I could have made you something fresh; you know I don’t mind,” I reply as I reach down for the hair tie around my wrist and pull my long, blonde hair back into a loose ponytail.
I clear my throat as I pick up my fork and cut a piece of the meal free, then gingerly place it in my mouth. I know that the eventual silence will cause him to act out, but as long as I keep my eyes on him, he’ll know it’s not for long.
“Rus?” I begin slowly as soon as I’m done chewing. “What … what happened last night?”
“Huh?”
He furrows his brow in confusion, his fork hovering in front of his face.
“In bed?” I say as casually as I can.
“Oh. Well, fuck Ells! Yeah. I know. I’m sorry about that but you wouldn’t talk to me and I couldn’t hold onto it much longer,” he explains with a shrug as he shoves the fork into his mouth.
“But we promised each other—”
“I know,” he cuts me off curtly. “I fucked up, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
I swallow a sigh as I rest an elbow on the table, letting the fork fall onto the plate and make a clattering sound.
I don’t like to be “precious” as he accuses me of being sometimes. I don’t see myself that way; I’m just genuinely upset that this might be the time his seed takes hold and how would I explain this to a child? Mommy and Daddy were pissed off at each other, so we made you? That’s not exactly the kind of thing that would make someone feel loved.
