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Episode
065 |
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“A
woman with mole like a tear on her cheek is destined to meet a life full of
heartache and sorrow.” Ryoji
Kaji, Neon Genesis Evangelion Rebecca opened the door
hesitantly, pushing it into the darkness.
The light from the hallway splashed into the small living room. She flicked on the lights, a single bulb
over the middle of the room buzzing to life. She turned around, holding the
door open for Morgan as he came inside.
His hands in the pockets of his trench coat, he looked around the
small apartment carefully. A cheap
rack of DVDs rested besides the combination TV/DVD player on a cinder block
table. A worn couch faced the TV and
took up the center of the room.
Kitchen appliances were organized just off to the right, with no wall
or divider between them and the wooden-floor living room. The walls were stark white with no
decorations, while a single window next to the couch was covered with a heavy
wool blanket. Morgan looked at Rebecca as she
stood against the door, keeping it open.
“What do you think?” she asked, the corners of her small mouth
flickering towards a nervous smile. “I
mean, it’s just a one-bedroom but it’s mine.” “It’s nice,” Morgan lied. He headed towards the window, peaking
through the blanket to see the alleyway behind. Across the way, he saw darkened windows,
save one of a fat man with thinning hair watching TV. “Know that guy?” he asked indifferently. Rebecca left the door and came to
join Morgan. She looked through the
opening, and then turned away. “Yeah,
that’s Malcolm. He’s a veteran or
something.” She brushed her hair
nervously out of her face as she headed towards the kitchen area. Taking off her light black jacket, her blue
jeans and white t-shirt stood out against the walls of the apartment. “He’s got some binoculars that he uses to
spy on me and some of the other girls in the building. He likes to catch me when I’m coming out of
the shower.” Morgan stared across at him for a
moment more before stepping away from the window. “So this is you, huh?” he asked, taking in
the apartment as a whole. “Yep,” she said. “For four months, anyways. I moved in after my last boyfriend and me
kind of imploded.” “What was his name?” Morgan asked,
walking over to the DVD shelves. Rebecca crossed the apartment in a
few steps to shut the door. Morgan
pretended not to notice as she secured two of the four locks. “He doesn’t matter,” she said quietly
before joining him. “Want to watch
something?” “No, I should probably be on my
way,” he said with a smile towards her.
Her black hair shimmered in the light from the single bulb, the scent
of roses once again surrounding him like a fresh summer breeze within a
stagnate room. She stood still in front of
him. “Do you have to go?” she asked
with a subtle edge of desperation. “I
mean, it’s just…” She looked away. “It’s okay and everything, I just mean, we
just had dinner. I don’t really have
anything else planned for the night.”
She looked to him again. “And I
don’t like watching movies alone.” “I don’t either,” he said. He looked at the movies, then to the
door. “Are you asking me to stay,” he
ventured, “or to stay tonight?” He could tell her heart was
beginning to race. “You haven’t done
anything that would get me to trust you enough to ask you to stay the night,”
she said breathlessly. Morgan stared down at her, his
intense gaze piercing through her.
“Yet, you do,” he answered. She
swallowed, saying nothing. “Am I
creeping you out now?” he asked, leaning subtly towards her. “Yes,” she answered. “But not in a bad way,” she whispered just
before kissing him. The two were on the couch, locked
in a loving embrace. Their lips
joined, Rebecca lay on top of Morgan, her eyes closed as she kissed him
slowly. Lying beneath her, the former
knight held her close, his arms around her narrow shoulders. Pulling away, Rebecca drew up,
straddling Morgan’s waist. Their hands
touching, her fingers barely made it beyond his palm. She drew back, the breath she took causing
her chest to lift up. She reached down
to her waist, to the edges of her tight shirt and started to draw it up. “Wait.” Morgan caught her hands, the shirt
drawn up just enough to reveal the very bottom of her bare chest. Looking down at him, she froze, her eyes
trembling like her breath. “Don’t,” he
breathed. She lowered her shirt back down,
her hands quaking. “Why not?” she
asked. “We don’t need to go this far,” he
said, propping himself up. “But,” she said, “you, you kissed
me?” “Yeah,” he said. “And, and I’d like to again. But, I think that’s as far as tonight can
go.” Rebecca was still for a moment
then quickly pushed off of him, falling back to the far side of the
couch. She grabbed up the one throw
pillow, deep red against the couch’s strong gray. She looked away as Morgan sat up as
well. She laughed
self-consciously. “I’ve never had a
guy say no like that before. I’ve
never had a guy re…” She stopped and
looked away. “It’s not that,” he said quickly,
leaning forward, not looking at her.
“It’s just, you and I don’t know each other. Yet.
And I want to get to know you.
But that’s a big deal, at least for me.” “Getting to know each other?” she
asked. “Yeah, that,” he nodded. “And spending the night. Or, spending the night like that.” “If you didn’t want to spend the
night, just say so,” she said. “You
didn’t have to lead me on.” “I wasn’t leading you on, or I
didn’t mean to,” he defended. “It’s
just, we were there, about to kiss and it felt right. But going there,” he said with a glance
down the short hall towards the dark bedroom, “that doesn’t feel…” “Doesn’t feel right?” she asked,
insulted. “It feels too right,” he said
quietly. The tone of his voice made
her retreat mentally. “I like you
Rebecca,” he confessed. “And I don’t
want to do anything…” He stopped and
shook his head. He stood up and
retrieved his coat from the armrest of the couch. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I led you on, I’m sorry if I’m
not…” He looked to the door and turned
back. “I’d love to see you again,” he
said honestly. “If you think you can
put up with me, please call me.”
Without another word, he headed out, leaving Rebecca on the couch,
clinging to her pillow. The door to Morgan’s house opened
and he stepped inside. Practically
throwing his Grosse Messer onto the couch, he stepped in and immediately
collapsed in front of Ralph’s tank.
The tiny little turtle swam towards him, making him smile weakly. “I wish for all the world I wasn’t like
this,” he whispered morosely to the turtle, putting his hand to the
glass. The little turtle swam quickly
against his hand as if trying to reach him.
“I wish…” he repeated absently.
In the darkness of the nighttime that came in through his tall bay
window, he sat with the turtle, saying nothing more. |
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