Date: Sun, 5 Apr 2015 01:39:56 +0000 (UTC) From: Gaia Farnese Subject: Sleep Well, William - part IV A/N: Much like the previous installment, this was a monster to write (and edit). I'm sorry. William is too. The call is unexpected. I'm in the shower, trying to suppress my urge to wank, lest it lead to thoughts about William, involving his naked body and wicked fingers. Of course, that would lead to yet another debate with myself over the whole thing, and that's something I want to avoid at all costs. You'd think I'd have been over it by now. The phone buzzes but I ignore it. I don't believe that anybody needs me right away. They can call again later, besides it's probably Marie. Lately she's been stressing over me a bit too much and it's been getting on my nerves. It started when she thought I'd been raped during the night I stayed "at some stranger's place" and, even though it took me a while to convince her of the opposite, she's been really careful around me ever since, especially since what she dubbed "the great depression" started manifesting on me. The second time it rings I am getting soap out of my eyes and yell at the phone for good measure, cursing the day I bought it. No, I haven't grown neurotic too, it's just the fact that school is stressing me out and my friends are acting all weird around me, so I'm doomed to snap, even if it's directed at a cell phone. And, while we're there, I manage to get to the phone only after I dry my hair. I'm devastated to see a few missed calls from a number I wouldn't be familiar with if ~he~ hadn't rung me back when I was waiting at Hilton. I'm in the middle of cursing my existence when it rings again and I hurry to pick up, hope swelling in me like bread in the oven. "Um, hello..." "Hello Iszaya." "I'm done sulking," I confess to the speaker. It doesn't take much but it also kind of does. "I thought as much. How have you been?" "Not so well... I'd like to apologize..." "No need for that," he's quick to reply, voice firm but pleasant. I don't know what else to say. I haven't thought much about this moment so I'm at a loss. I try to phrase it better but `I'm so, so sorry, please have me back, if only for one more night...' keeps going round in my head. "Can I come over?" I blurt out instead. "Of course. Do you remember the way?" "Err... no?" "OK, I'll send Jude to pick you up. Champagne Central, good?" "Yes. Yes." I nod my head, watching myself in the mirror. "Very well, then," I hear, then, "Be there at seven thirty tonight. The car's Black Buick LaCrosse." "All right," I nod again, "Thanks. I'll... I'll see you soon." "That you will." Click. I stand there confused for some time, brain trying to catch up with the new situation, when I glance down at my phone and notice that it's nearing quarter past six. That's when I start and run toward my room, throwing towels and phone and my soul behind. I manage to waste five more minutes until I realise that I only managed to put on a dirty tee and a sock with a hole on the sole. I open all the drawers and stare at my clothes in despair, way too close to screaming for me to be comfortable with it. Everything seems too small and too poor and soon a pile of clothes finds itself on the floor. Suddenly, my aunt enters my room to find me butt naked and quite desperate. I grab a garb but I think it's too late – she's seen my moons, if nothing else. "Iz! I'm so sorry! You were making such a racket I thought I'd come in to check on... wait, what's going on?" she babbles, uncovering her eyes only when her brain processes the despair etched on my face. I choke a sob around the time she blinks at me. I fall down to sit among the pile of wrinkled cloth, trying, without much luck, to cover my nudity and shame. "I..." Her face morphs into one of utter kindness and I'm speechless for a moment, feeling like the worst nephew ever, especially as I'm about to lie to her. "I'm... I ha – I have a date tonight. I don't know what to wear." I manage to get out, mumbling and looking down, hoping the lie won't show in my eyes. Remembering what William said about the touching, I try to keep my hand down too, but it's not like I can do much with it, busy as it is covering my groin. Let's hope my aunt is not proficient when it comes to interpreting body language. She smiles and crouches down to look through my stuff. "I thought you were past the stage of impressing Helen," she remarks casually, but I can see that she's curious. I swallow, pretending to consider the checkered shirt under her hand. "I... it's not Helen," I tell her. "What!" I'm busy admiring that strictly female capability – the ability to go from a loving mother hen to an aggressive banshee in the span of a few seconds. I swallow again, feeling counter-productive atmosphere settle down around us. "Helen and I... we... we're not exactly together the way... you think we are." How the hell do you explain that to your aunt? `Our relationship is based on need and personal space' sounds way too ridiculous to even consider uttering it. But, as I soon discover, my aunt doesn't need me to explain it all to her. Her eyes soften and she smiles again, causing me to gape in bewilderment. "While I believe you're moving a bit too fast for a boy your age, I also believe you to be a clever boy, so if you think you can safely put it behind you and move on, I understand." Said as she collects a few garbs to consider. I have no intention to correct her misunderstanding, if only because I don't know what else to tell her. I'm not sure even Helen sees our relationship the way I do and, while not immediately troublesome, I'm aware it could grow into a concern sometime soon. It's for the best, anyway, I conclude, at least until I figure out this... William situation. "So what's she like?" my aunt asks at last, and I laugh at the curiosity she can't contain. That way I can mask the feeling of dread firming in my stomach. "Um..." "Please tell me you haven't resorted to blind dating?" I glare at her but not for long – her eyes are too bright, too happy, for me to stay mad at her mockery. "She's... um... elegant. Very well-mannered. Very well-dressed." I offer. "O-kee. Do you want to match her or impress her?" "I just don't want to look ridiculous," I shrug, feeling like I'm not helping her at all. She snorts and offers me the garbs she's been considering all along. "Here you go, then. Jeans and sweater should do it." "Yeah, I think that's good." "Grey socks," she continues, throwing a pair at me, "and the blue coat I got you last year. It's growing colder by the day..." "All right." "And fix that hair," she adds, continuing to rummage through the drawers, showing no signs of stopping. "Um... auntie?" I start uncomfortably, trying to signal to her that she's supposed to go out now and let me dress. Lucky for me, she gets what I'm trying to say and hurriedly exits my room, talking about buying a new coat sometime next month. I dress quickly, mindful to spray some deodorant, then comb my hair and muss it up again. I like it better like that anyway. Upon seeing it's nearing seven o'clock I rush to get out, grabbing the blue coat on my way. I trip over Fedora and curse, getting an admonishing finger from my aunt. "I'm going to be late, I'm going to be sooooo late," I lament as I put on my trainers. My aunt's face floats through the doorway and she looks at me, a thoughtful expression on it. "You know, I have to pick up something in town. How about I take you to... where are you meeting anyway?" "Champagne Central. Hurry up," I tell her and sit down on the cupboard to wait for her. She takes far too long to get ready and I'm about to start shouting at her when she appears, make up only half done and socks in two different shades of pink. I smile at her instead and she performs a curtsy. ~ It's only when we're in the car and out of Briggs that I realise I can't let my aunt see me get into a mysterious expensive black car on the station. The panic rises to sweating levels while I try my best to cover it up with a watery smile and high-pitched chit-chat. "My, aren't we excited?" she remarks when we're close to the Central and I'm right about ready to off myself by hurling myself through the front window. "Yeah, a bit..." I answer, a tad bit desperate. It seems like barely a minute later when she parks at Champagne Central and turns on the blinking lights. It's then that I decide I'm doomed and I have no way of leaving without raising suspicions. I swallow my gratitude and slowly get out of the car, thinking about how I'm already late as it's twenty to eight o'clock. I look around and find the black Buick LaCrosse waiting for me a few cars down. I don't know what to do. I stand around idly for a few more minutes, pretending to look for my date for my aunt's sake. "Do you want me to pick you up later?" I hear from inside the car. "No, you don't have to," I answer. "I don't know exactly when I'll be returning." "Be reasonable." "Of course, auntie. Anyway, you can go now, I can wait here by myself." "She's late, huh? It's no fuss, I'll wait with you for a bit more," she tells me, pushing me into a heightened sense of distress. I try to calm down and avoid imagining William's driver getting out of the car to call me over. I'm seconds from texting William to call it off when I hear a horn. Closing my eyes, I decide it's too late to do anything now. But then I hear it again and this time it's followed by a quiet curse from my aunt. "Looks like I have to go, Izzy. That twat won't stop honking and yelling... what a rude man," she rants as she restarts the car. I can feel relief washing over me and bend down to smile at her. "'ts okay, auntie. I'll see you later." Just as I close the door she tells me to "Have fun! – and tell your date to manage her time a bit better next time." I nod, smiling all the while, hoping it doesn't show my inner turmoil. I watch her car progress slowly and turn to look toward the other car waiting for me only after I count sixty seconds. I head toward it, shaking my head apologetically and hoping the driver won't be too upset. I get in, mumbling "I'm sorry," to the man behind the wheel. He doesn't say anything, only motions for me to put the seat belt, then starts the car. I sit back and take in the sight in front of me, thinking about the number of people who saw me get into the car. Would anybody wonder what's up with me? It's barely been a few minutes when the car stops out of nowhere, to park on a small lot among dozens of buildings. I send him a curious glance but the driver ignores me in favour of picking up his buzzing phone. Several seconds later he turns to me and I have no idea why because I spaced out and didn't hear a bit of his conversation. "Sir says that something important came up. He's headed to a meeting at the Pentagon Centre. Would you prefer to wait for him to finish or... yes?" He hands me the phone. "I'm sorry, Iszaya." "No, that's... it's all right," I say to him as disappointment floods in. "Would you like to come over a bit later?" "I can't stay late tonight," I tell him regretfully, "I already told my aunt I won't be long." "Monday?" "School." "What about after school?" "Um okay. I'll try. I don't promise anything." "That's fine. Call me if you decide to come. I'll send Jude to pick you up." "Okay. Bye." "Bye Iszaya." I hand the phone back to Jude, all the while trying not to slump my shoulders. He glances at me expectantly and I shrug. "I have no plans... wait up." I take out my phone and reread the text message Helen sent me last night. She asked to see me sometime soon, to talk and `other stuff' so I could go see her. I'm out in town and it's probably for the best if I settle things with her. It's been way too long since I last saw her anyway. I call her and tell her I'm coming over, receiving a genuinely happy "Brilliant!" and a mimic of a kiss. When I tell the address to Jude he looks at me funnily, informing me that William texted him to take me back to Briggs. "Yeah, but I've got elsewhere to be," I tell him and he complies without further talk. ~ On our way I remember the situation with my aunt at the station and, imagining Helen's reaction upon seeing me come out of the car, I tell Jude to park a block away from the place where she lives. He looks at me funnily again, but doesn't say anything, and parks the car. I thank him and get out, thinking about what his life must look like, driving around random boys and busy old guys from place to place. I snicker at `old guys' because, even though I'm aware that William isn't that old, I'm feeling a tad bit spiteful. I spend the rest of the walk imagining William's daily schedule and trying to cool off about the whole thing. He's busy, so what? At least he called to let me know. He could have left me waiting for him on his doorstep, I reason. I can see Helen in the distance, jamming to the music in her ears in front of her building. I remove my own ear-buds and smile at her. The smile she sends back at me when she spots me reminds me of the first months together with her. I like her, I really do, even though I'm starting to grow aware that she's no match for ~him~. She's cheerful by nature and very relaxing to be around, but she doesn't challenge or excite me as much as he does... I think that's going to take some getting used to. But, before I start considering that option, I have to talk with her and see where we're at. It's a conversation long overdue. "Hey there," I greet, then kiss her. She kisses back but moves away too soon. I'm puzzled at first, but then I remember my own reluctant kiss from two weeks ago, and it makes sense. I kiss her again and this time she's willing to kiss back a bit more. I mumble an apology against her lips and feel her smile into the kiss. "I missed you," she tells me, eyes alight. I hug her and touch her hair, wondering how I'm going to keep this up. She doesn't deserve this, I reason, but telling her that wouldn't exactly go down very well. "How have you been?" I ask her, adding "You didn't tell me you'd be going to Edinburgh... how did that research go?" while remembering the horror I experienced the morning after my `day one' with William. I had no way to cover the hickeys and I had no explanation for her (or anybody else for that matter) so the journey to school that morning was a very stressful affair. Then I remember the relief I felt when I found out she'd gone to Edinburgh for some scientific research. She laughs, snapping me back into the present. "I told you... I invited you over the night before but you went somewhere else. I came to look for you afterwards but you were already gone... anyway, it went all right, I did what was asked of me and secured a place for the school on the upcoming competition. It was fantastic actually! I met this girl..." She tells me about her trip to Edinburgh as we walk to the small park close by. Once we're there we sit on a bench and she asks about me. "Where'd you go?" "Oh," I struggle to answer, "...a friend of my friend was organising a slumber party and she asked me to go with her because she'd have been sort of like the third wheel – all of them were couples, you see, so I was just doing her a favour." I fancy I can almost feel it, the influence of her friends, surface in those moments; she's battling jealousy and trying not to attack me. It's so different from the Helen I used to know back then, few years ago – the Helen I fell in love with, in a way. But I feel no reason to explain it further or worse, try to justify my lie, so I leave it at that and hope she won't make a drama out of it. She's usually laid back about... everything, but lately her friends have been influencing her to behave in a more... typical way, to be like a `proper girlfriend'. As for the lie itself, I am confident she will believe it without asking for a great deal of details. "A she huh?" "Yes, a friend I met in my childhood. She's a cool one, I can introduce you someday," I tell her, opening myself up for inspection. She grabs my face possessively and kisses me. "Hey, no worries," I tell her with a smile, then peck her lips. She nods and lets go of me, sitting back. "I know I've been wearing you down lately," she says conversationally. I don't say anything in return, opting to let her speak. It's better if she tells me what's on her mind, besides I don't want to insult her. "But... it's just... you know, all my friends have these normal relationships and ours is just so... you know?" "Unconventional?" I supply, thinking about my relationship with William. If I may call it that right now. "Yes. That, and also quite unreliable. I mean..." she explains as I scowl, "I trust you and everything, but sometimes you can be difficult. Not as a person... not as a boy, but rather as a friend – I feel like I can't guess what you might like. You're so puzzling and... a bit impulsive too, if I'm being honest. It's not bad, Izzy, I'm not saying you're bad... it's just that I really need us to establish something more... secure?" I think about her words and come up with nothing but parallels to my feelings about William. I suppose he can't leave me in peace even when I'm mad with him. Still, I have no idea what to say to Helen after this. "I... I really don't know what to say," I start honestly, "I mean, I know I'm not... very convenient, but I don't think I can deal with anything more serious than what we've got for the time being. I don't..." I stop to think, careful about phrasing my next words. "I'm comfortable with us the way we are, but I understand that you're not and... yes, we have to do something about it but I have no idea what exactly." I don't want to lie because she's been honest but I can't explain it all to her, not when I'm truly not sure about what I might like to do right now. "Do you think that maybe, if we try..." she doesn't finish her sentence and looks away, fiddling with her hair. It doesn't take me long to guess what she's suggesting. Oh well, it's time for excuses again, I decide grimly. No matter how I phrase it I'm going to lie to her because I've already had sex with somebody else and refusing her on the grounds of not being confident enough would be outright hypocrisy. I'm quite confident when I'm in William's embrace, I remind myself. "I know you're a bit... weird – yes, Izzy, you're weird for a guy – about this, but... maybe, you know, if we could just try instead of just talking about it..." she continues, her face set, yet her eyes are stubbornly looking to the side. "I'm really not—" "Are you gay?" she asks me all of a sudden. "The reason I don't want to have sex is because I think it's too soon for us to be... doing that. The world is overly sexualized anyway, and I don't like it one bit. I don't want our relationship to be like that too," I tell her smartly in a long, fierce whisper, reflecting on my views before and after William on the inside. They haven't changed all that much – I still get pissed off thinking about how many interactions depend on sex – but I have some insight now and I know what it feels like to be seduced. Most of all, I know how good sex feels, and so I understand why people like it as much as they do. Still, the fashion of acting grown up among my peers, for the sole purpose of sexualizing your image further, not only pisses me off but disgusts me a bit too. I've tried to explain this to Helen so many times but she doesn't get it. I don't blame her - she doesn't think about things the way I do, besides her friends are mostly common girls, preoccupied with their makeup, boyfriends and other people's lives. It's good she turned out the way she is, though I'm afraid I can already feel her slipping into that common pattern. She looks at me now and I can read it in her eyes that she's aware I haven't answered her question. "So you've said. But I have a reason to believe that sex improves relationships... it strengthens them and it gives couples an outlet..." "Stop, Helen, stop." She sighs and looks away again, disappointment evident on her face, much like that night in the club. I don't have any better words to explain my feelings on the matter and I'm not even sure she's trying to understand anymore. It's all about what her friends think and what her friends say at this point. "I don't know what you girls talk about when you hang out, but I don't think that we should model our relationship on Christina's or Trine's relationships. I don't care about their opinions and I don't care what their definition of a good relationship--" "And I don't like it that you spend so much time with Kalla but I don't bitch about her," she replies tersely, proving to me that I'm on a sure way to lose her to her typical girl friends. "Look," I start, already more agitated than I planned to become when I considered this meeting, "I know they are your friends, and you like them, but their definition of life doesn't match mine." "And what happens when my own definition of life doesn't match yours anymore?" she asks me then. I gaze at her steadily, hoping that she's clever enough to know the answer to the question herself. "We part ways, don't we?" she whispers after a moment. I look away for the first time. I don't have the energy or the will to stop this and fight for us, not anymore. "But that's what I want to avoid, Izzy. I realise that we're moving in different circles and I realise that you don't like the way most people live when they're our age, but I'm fighting to keep us together and you're just standing there... you don't even try. That's what hurts me. If you could only try..." I don't say anything for a long time, so long that she stands up and obviously, only awaits a response. When she gets none she moves away and turns her back to me, leaving me alone in the park. ~ I pronounce the evening a lost cause and return to Briggs. When I enter the house it's Fedora that greets me first, an uncommon but welcome gesture of solidarity. I hug her, then join Ned on the sofa. "Date gone bad?" he asks, voice carefully neutral. I wonder what's up with the peo-beings in this house tonight, all compassionate and reaching out to me. Do I look that beat? "Not exactly. I don't want to talk about it." "'s fine." We watch the telly absent-mindedly until my aunt comes back, then I join her in making big ass sandwiches. She doesn't ask questions and it's then I remember how glad I am to be living with her. Soon after we sit back in the living room and chat idly about the stuff she bought and Ned's gaming practice. It's then that he enlightens me in regard to his profession – he's a game reviewer. "How come I've never seen you hold a console?" "I usually game when you're out. I don't want to bother you while you're studying or resting." "Hey, I'm not some nerd! Let's do it together sometime!" "Sure, why not," he agrees, changing the channel. "Hey, wait up!" he adds all of a sudden. Both aunt and I raise our heads to look at the screen he's focusing on. There's something about some new catering and event planning service offered by Whitehall Enterprise, a massive scale Glasgow proprietorship offering many business-related services. On the screen, talking to the reporter, there is a woman who reminds me of William a little bit. It says her name is Agatha Whitehall – Giouzelis and she is the chairwoman of the Whitehall Enterprise. I inspect her closely while she chatters away about the expansion of their business. The woman, Agatha, has the same eye and hair colour as William, and not only that – she has the same nose and eyebrows, leading me to believe that she might be related to him somehow. But, before I can think about all the ways they could be related, Agatha Whitehall – Giouzelis vanishes and the reporter starts speaking about the company in general. `We are familiar with the fact that the sole proprietor of the Whitehall Enterprise and current Managing Director Ariston Whitehall – Giouzelis took over managing the family business when he was only twenty years old. It has been nearly a decade since then and, as Agatha Whitehall – Giouzelis informed us, the Enterprise has kept marking success after success under his management. Recently, Ariston Whitehall – Giouzelis, otherwise known for his long-standing interest in the cultural scene of Scotland, was invited to speak for the National...' "I work for the Whitehall Enterprise," Ned says conversationally then, causing me to gape at him. "Do you know this Ariston bloke?" my aunt leans to ask. Ned shakes his head and changes the channel again. "Never seen him myself, but I've heard he's the crabby sort," he elaborates. "Crabby?" I ask in wonder. "Yes, you know, easily irritable." Ned explains, "Though I've heard he's quite good-looking." "He gets all the ladies, huh?" my aunt jokes as she gets up. "Anyway, let me bring more snacks." ~ Monday rolls around and I'm still slightly wound up about the last-minute cancellation. It's not because I don't understand William – he must have a crazy schedule – but I'm tetchy because I miss him, a bit too much for it to be considered healthy at this stage of our relationship, I think. School is no less boring, except that now Helen's girl friends keep glaring at me whenever they see me. That aside, I'm trying not to think too much about what happened between us and just how much my little affair aided the fall of our relationship. I try to sneak out quietly after school, but Marie catches up with me. "Hey, why the hurry?" she asks me, hand on my shoulder. Oh well. "Er, nothing really..." I start lamely. "Aren't you coming with us?" "I... Um, well, I made other plans..." "But I thought... wait, Helen's coming too so maybe it'd be good for you to come... sort of reconcile?" "Marie," I try to control my voice, already a bit annoyed with her, "I have to do something else now." "I think you're being a bit too carefree about this," she snaps at me. At first I'm surprised because Marie's never the one to lose her shit, but then I get angrier myself. "Yeah, well, this is my relationship so please don't even try to interfere," I tell her angrily. "I've had enough of people shoving their noses in ~my~ business." I can see the surprise, and hurt, clearly on her face. But then again, I hope she can see the same on mine. "I don't even... You've changed, Izzy. You've changed and I'm not sure I like it," she says after a prolonged silence. "Yeah? Why's that? Because I dare speak up and say what's on my mind instead of just taking everybody's criticism to heart?" "You used to speak your mind before too. Or, at least, I hope you did," she placates me. "It's just that... you're no longer the social creature you used to be. You spend your time staring off in space and you keep distancing yourself from your friends. I can't speak for sure, but I think it's hurting Kalla too. And, if you don't care about me, you surely care about her." I sigh, exasperated. What is it with girls lately? "Look, Marie, it's not that I don't care. What you need to understand is that sometimes I need some time off, some time for myself. There are so many things I'm discovering about myself... I have to think about all of that. On my own." "But you can share, Izzy! You can share your discoveries with us! And we'll—" she insists and that's the moment I realise that I've grown and left her behind. It strikes me that I can no longer pretend to be a child and live like her, handle social life the way she does. I can no longer share everything about me with so many people, especially people who don't even bother to understand me. It's not because of William and protecting his identity – there are simply some things, intimate things that I want to keep to myself. Besides, they are ours, not everyone's... and I can't, and I don't want to break the privacy spell. "There are some things I prefer to remain private, Marie. You just have to get used to it," I tell her coldly, all anger gone in the face of my latest realisation. "Oh my god, Izzy," she proclaims then, "I'm not asking you for details! I'm just saying that you're completely withdrawn these days... you seem to want to hide everything you do. You let Kalla and me speak about our lives all we want and you don't say anything about what's going on in yours. I have no idea if there's something serious going on and I want to help... it hurts me, Izzy. It wasn't always..." "Okay," I conclude darkly, aware that I have to hurry to reach Champagne Central. "Okay, listen, let's talk about this some other time. I have to go now," I say and make a move to continue past her. "You're doing it again, Iszaya..." "Listen, Marie, I don't owe you an explanation for... anything, really. I already told you I'm in a hurry, I haven't got the time for this right now." "At this rate, you're going to lose the few friends you've got," she admonishes and that's when I'm sure I no longer want to put up with her bullshit. "Yeah? Well, I think it's better to have fewer friends who appreciate my need for privacy, instead of some meddlesome, pretentious bitches who can't keep their nose out of places it doesn't belong," I tell her furiously, then turn my back to her and walk away. By the time I reach Champagne Central I've resolved to put the conflict behind me and not let it affect my afternoon with William, an affair I look forward to very much indeed. Jude's reserved but otherwise polite this time around, but I don't remember much of the drive to William's place. I get out of the car and walk to number 11, then enter the building and climb up to his flat. Anticipation and arousal fill my belly as I imagine various scenarios of our meeting. In my head, we're kissing passionately and pawing at each other, taking our clothes and barriers off until we end up doing it on the floor. Another brief fantasy flickers through but it's more modest – featuring us kissing around the flat and lying on the bed, close to each other. The best thing about William is that I never know what to expect. At times he seems to do all the things I want him to do and, other times, he does things I never saw coming. It kind of makes me like him even more. I try to guess his reaction upon seeing me but I find that I can't and, before I know it, I'm on his doorstep and ringing the bell. Twenty seconds later the door opens and I see William, all grace and elegance. I'm barely in when I grab the front of his cashmere sweater and attempt to pull him down for a kiss. "He--!!" He doesn't resist my short-lasting kiss. When he tries to pull back several seconds later I'm still clinging onto him as if he'd disappear any moment now. Apparently that's a good choice because it gets me another brief kiss. "Hi," I say to him, a silly grin on my face. "Hello." I kiss him one more time, just because I can, and I have a sudden urge to tell him about how I've missed him but I think the better of it. It proves to be a good choice as a middle-aged woman appears in the hallway just then, a duster in her hand. "Iszaya, this is Miriam. She is my house keeper. Miriam, this is Iszaya, the son of an acquaintance of mine." William announces smoothly, separating from me and turning to walk to the living room. I nod at the woman, take off my shoes and follow him, trying to act like a son of one of William's undoubtedly, filthy rich friends. It looks like I don't have to do much because the woman nods back and continues with her work without a word. I'm still shaken by her sudden appearance but I try to cover it up, hoping fervently that she didn't see anything before William moved away. "I have some work left for me to finish. Please sit down, I'll try not to take too long," he informs me, indicating to one of the bar chairs behind me as he sits down on the sofa with his laptop. "Miriam, would you please make some tea?" he asks several moments later. "Certainly," I hear her respond, then see her make her way into the kitchen. I want to ask if William still has that tea with the funny name but I don't dare, just in case I shouldn't mention that I've been in his flat before. He looks very busy, typing away on his laptop. Out of nowhere, I realise that I would like to add William-watching to my growing list of William-related things to do. What seems like seconds later Miriam nudges my elbow and hands me a cup. She places one for William on the coffee table, then adds the sugar and saucer next to it. I feel like having some milk with my tea so I approach the table under William's watchful gaze. He watches me as I sip my tea, then winks at me. I try not to blush as I tell him that I'd like him to kiss me again. "I will." I lick my lips and consider leaning forward when Miriam reappears, so I act like I'm very interested in the painting above William's head. I remember him telling me the name of the artist. "I'm nearly done, Sir," I hear her say. "Thank you, Miriam." She finishes just as I finish my tea and by that time even William is done with his leftover work. He sips his tea, watching me, then Miriam, then stands up to walk her to the door. I can see them from the corner of my eye – him holding her cloak for her, then handing her an envelope. I suppose that's her payment. Then he's back and his eyes are almost shiny with desire. I'm not sure if I'm more scared or aroused at this point but it doesn't matter anyway. Even if I'm both, it's a good feeling, and I think he knows it. He heads for the doorway leading to his bedroom, beckoning me with one hand. He lets his hair down and, transfixed, I stand up to follow him. "That's not very romantic," I manage once I'm in the room. He shrugs in response, eyes alight. "Take it or leave it." He knows I'll take it. The room is bright, too bright for all the embarrassing things he wants us to do. He starts taking off his trousers and I bite my lips, drinking in the sight of him while waiting for him to look in my direction. When he does, he's standing completely naked in the centre of the room, the sunlight painting the canvas of his body... he's stunningly handsome. "Can... can we..." I try to speak, close to begging him to go somewhere more appropriate, somewhere darker, but he only beckons me again as he climbs on the bed. I can only follow helplessly, climbing it with my clothes intact. He grabs my hips and pulls me closer. His mouth tastes of mocca chocolate, propelling me to lose myself the way I usually do when I'm with him. I don't remember ever enjoying kissing this much. William pulls back to play with my tie. He strips me carefully, folding each piece of clothing until I am as naked as he is. I want to touch his cock but I'm not yet that brave. He kisses my shoulder and whispers something dirty in my ear, mentioning our arousal. He's shameless, really, and that is probably why I can't help but be attracted to him. At the moment it seems important I climb in his lap so I do, my hands reaching out to wrap around his cock. I grip it and fondle on the side of rough, happy to see it swell up for me. William stops kissing me and lies back, watching me through half-lidded eyes as I experiment. His hands grip my thighs, anchoring me and keeping me close to him, so close I start feeling like I'm in a steamy bubble. When he flips me over I know that my playtime is over. He kisses me, two light pecks on the mouth and a bite that follows, synchronized with the twitching of his cock against my belly. Then he offers me his fingers and I lick them, sucking strongly at the tips, until they skirt down my torso and press against my groin. His kiss feels wilder when he inserts a digit in me. "Are you going to fuck me?" uttered breathlessly. "Do you want me to?" he asks against my lips. I can clearly see him reach for the lube and open it. "I don't... I don't know. Not yet," I babble, mind preoccupied with the feeling of two fingers inside me. For the next several minutes, the only thing I can think about are his hazy, anticipating eyes as I say "yet". His restless fingers grow to three and now, it seems like he uses them to make promises of what's to come. I'm completely positive I wouldn't refuse him at this point, should he press the issue. But William isn't like that so he lounges next to me and plays with me like with a doll, touching all the places that cause a reaction. He silences my moans with kisses and bears with my grip on his shoulders when I come. He's the only thing I can feel and smell when I return from my little death. He's still touching me, his face having regained slightly impatient quality. For some reason, it reminds me of the serene faces of the porn actors and I understand why William is such a perfect lover – he puts my pleasure before his. It makes me so giddy to think about it that I laugh at him, causing him to furrow his brow. I kiss him, then slide down and swallow the head of his cock. I've been sucking him for a while now when I feel him shift and pull out of my mouth. He sits up and I touch his thighs, feeling them quiver under the strain of his self-control. Does that mean I've improved? He's silent when I continue, but he groans when I manage to take half of his length into my mouth. I feel the ghost of his hand behind my neck but he never touches me, never presses my head down. When I stop to look up at him I find him staring back, eyes on fire and I lick the slit, earning a tiny smile. "Open," he whispers more than says and I comply. He comes all over my tongue just as I cast my eyes down to watch him stroke himself. I swallow, lick a trail up his cock and twirl my tongue around his piercing. When he's done pulsing, he plays with my hair, seemingly distant and pensive. His eyes appear to have lost the fire within. "Not yet, hm. Not bad for someone who claimed he wouldn't let me fuck him just recently," he comments out of nowhere, eyes coming to rest on my face. He looks eerily calm and feels so very cold, out of reach. I freeze in an instant, shame washing over me, and I discover that feeling cheap and used is truly as horrible as I thought it would feel. Before I can think of something to say he lies down, turning his back to me. I stay where I am, basking in self-pity, until I remember the way we ended our liaison few weeks ago and understand why he's acting the way he is. The feeling intensifies with the realisation that he had me come back to him just so that he can prove to himself that he can win me over. Well, he has. Congratulations, William. I straighten up and leave the bed, growing indignant with every step I take toward the bath. I finish my business there quickly, then come back to put my clothes on. Upon seeing him again, watching me from the corner of his eye, I decide to pick up my clothes and get dressed in the hall. I can't stay with him anymore, because he's too intense in all the worst ways. He must see something on my face because he's up in a flash and heading toward me. I go through the doorway just to find his arms encircling me from behind, pulling me to him despite my resistance. I'm tense and angry; he doesn't say anything, just holds me. "I have to go," I tell him then, aiming for the tone he used when he degraded me utterly. "I'm sorry," he says then, "I received bad news this morning. I'm sorry. Please come back to bed..." I stand motionless, the tension leaving my back, then slump in his arms and turn to hug him. He walks us back to the bed but we don't touch when we lie down. He doesn't turn to hold me or anything, and I keep thinking that I don't mind it all that much because I'm going to need to cool down anyway. This time it's me who's turning away from him. I let William brood over whatever bad thing has happened in his life and vow not to allow him to say something like that and be forgiven ever again. After a while I feel him try to coax me out of my silent anger with a lingering kiss on the nape of my neck. I don't turn around to face him, but I don't stop him from collecting me in his arms either. He holds me like that, alternatively kissing me, until dusk settles in and I truly have to go. ~End of part four.~ Please donate to Nifty.