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KHYLA
I’m walking in the snow as an automa. I sort of hoped. I really thought that I could stop here without worrying, waiting for Matthew’s healing. Instead we have to plan the escape ones more, without even the certainty of a happy ending.
I’m sad because of the uncertainty of our future, but most of all, I’m sorry for Alan. If I hadn’t drink my brain and my heart because of Matthew, I could maybe give him a hope. Yes, I could try to start new life with him. Yet, I really couldn’t deceive him. I know what it means to invest feelings in others, without knowing whether they will be reciprocated. I could never have been so unfair to him. Without forgetting that, when I accepted to help Matthew, I knew the risks I was facing and I had promised to myself that I would never have left him, whatever had happened.
I arrive in front of the house, I notice that the light is on, but looking through the window, I don’t see Matthew anywhere. I feel a blow to the heart. Could it be possible that the police decided to bring the mission forward and that they already arrested him?
I run to the door and open it right away, calling his name aloud. I don’t care to be heard by the agents that still could be nearby. I have to express my pain aloud.
I look everywhere checking for traces of their passage, but the house seems ok. There are no signs of fights, nor wet footprints on the floor. What happened, then? Then I see Matthew’s leg from behind the couch and a mix of terror and relief takes me. He’s still here, no one took him away from me. Why is he lying on the floor? Maybe he felt bad...
I go behind the couch and see him with inert arms and shiny eyes.
«My God! Matthew, are you ok?» I ask, shaking him in the attempt to resume him.
Then, beside the couch, I see a bottle of Bourbon nearly empty.
«What did you do? Don’t tell me you’re drunk.»
He tries to get up but falls down with a thud.
«Why did you come back so soon? I was expecting you by three or four.»
«Oh! Now I understand. You were feeling alone so you thought to spend the night with a bottle of good whisky» I comment ironically. He turns his face to avoid my gaze full of disapproval.
«You shouldn’t have done it. Come on, now. I’ll help you to get up, Matthew.»
I put my arms under his armpits and I use all my strength to raise him and then let him lie down on the couch.
«Why are you here, Khyla? I thought you were going to spend the night with Alan» he whispers looking in my eyes.
«You are thickheaded. Didn’t you understand yet? You are the only one for me.»
He laboriously approaches his fingers to my face and slowly caresses it, provoking a good sensation. I close my eyes to enjoy his touch.
«Khyla, tonight you are even more beautiful.»
«This is because you are so drunk that you see me blurry» I say trying to be witty, but even though Matthew is drunk, his admiring gaze looks sincere and I’m feeling the most lucky woman in the word. At least tonight...
He leans on his elbows to push himself on to me. He hurls on my longing lips with impetus and passion. At first he bites them, then sucks them ravenous and these little assaults cause me the typical torment caused by unsatisfied senses. I’m feeling overflowing with love for him and now it’s clear to me why I’m here and not somewhere else. I cannot compare what I feel for him and the sympathy I feel for Alan. Matthews subdues both my body and soul and has the ability to do it even with his Bourbon’s flavored breath and the senses dimmed by alcohol.
«Let’s go to bed. I want you for me the whole night.»
I’m not going to let him say it twice. We undress and go straight under the blankets. This time I want something more. I wish to make love with Matthew, I can’t be contented with just sex.
I tell this to him and he kisses me languidly, as if he wanted to validate my request. While his caresses are becoming more and more white-hot, I breath his perfume inside me, listen to his moans, lap upon his statuary body, then open my legs to let him make me his, once again, even more deeper.
But Matthew still waits. He caresses my thig, goes down to play with my nipples, tangles with me as if I was the only salvation for him. Then he takes me with sweetness and passion, whispering my name without hesitation, as if I was really special to him. He’s not with me just to take all the pleasure he can afford. He’s giving himself to me, putting me in the center of his world.
I’m so excited that the tears come along with the lustful moans. He pushes me to high peaks and dries my face with his hands. When we finally get both to the culmination, we cling to ourselves as if there was nothing and no one beside us.
«Khyla, I love you...» he whispers before getting asleep in my arms. And a sense of peaceful takes me. He loves me, he just confessed it. I recall his obsessive jealousy about Alan, the unsuspicious sweetness that he gave me since we are in this house lost in the Sierra. Did I really managed to break his armor and win his heart? But I can’t be totally happy with this. I’m beginning to be victim on doubts. The bottle of Bourbon near the couch is sending me messages that I can’t avoid. Matthew was under the effects of alcohol. Words said under the effect of alcohol couldn’t even be used in a court, let alone if they could be valid as a declaration of love.
