Obsessed by Ever Lilac

 

 

 

5

 

 

Amber

 

When Stan came home from work today, the first thing he did was to check in on me. I was busy procrastinating, trying to teach myself to knit and the reprimanding look on his face was so funny that I nearly burst out into laughter.

Shaking his head, he walked over to me, still wearing his cognac colored leather jacket and grey hoodie underneath. He smelled amazing of aftershave, physical labor and hot afternoon sun.

“You know what you should be doing,” he rasped, his eyes attentive as always, “and this is not it.” Then he scooped me up, making me squeal, put me down on a chair and handed me my cello and stroke.

Taking my wrists he placed my hands on the instrument, his touch so overwhelming that I felt it in my whole body. Bending his face down, I could barely breathe as he stood behind me, his cheek brushing against my temple.

“Play,” he said, sounding like he wanted no protests. Like he knows what’s best for me. And judging by how well I played afterwards, maybe he’s right.

Sometimes it feels like he knows everything. Like he knows my dreams and little secrets that not even I am aware of. Sometimes it feels like he’s going to pull them out of me.

And I know that they’d be safe in his hands.

Putting my cello aside, I rise, stretching my neck and my arms. I could use a break. I’ve been going at it for hours now and weirdly I feel somewhat okay about the concert tomorrow. Maybe because Stan is here, my security blanket.

My unexpected hero.

He’s down in the basement, taking a nap because he was exhausted when he came home from work. And after looking out for me, he went to bed. I don’t want to disturb so I don’t tell him that I’m heading out for a run in the woods.

It’s pretty nearby and I don’t have to walk far to get to the runners trail. It’s nice here, the sun is slowly going down the horizon and there’s a slight breeze in the air, birds chippering in their trees and I can still hear the sound from someone mowing their lawn.

Inhaling the woodsy aerosol, a smile pulls at my lips at how pretty the lush tree crowns look with the sun shimmering in between them and then I start running.

It’s just me out, I don’t meet anyone, except for a middle aged man jogging with his white golden retriever.

Next time, maybe I could ask Stan if he wants to join me. Though I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate on exercising with him right next to me, doubt that I’ll be able to turn my gaze away from those intense eyes of his that sometimes seem to be tricolored.

When they change like that, he seems to be staring straight into my soul. I can’t do the same with him on the other hand. A wall seems to be up but I don’t know why.

Why do people put up walls in the first place?

To protect themselves? Or maybe sometimes it’s to protect others...

I shudder, suddenly cold even if the temperature hasn’t changed and my panting increases the farther I run. I’m on the yellow trail, but maybe it would be a good thing to get rid of as much nervous energy as possible so I switch to the red instead.

It’s a longer one, blinking like a beacon and it takes me farther into the woods, where I no longer can hear any sounds from the street and where the vegetation seems denser, the branches a little sharper.

At least it’s not dark out yet but the trees are closely knitted together here, making it harder for the light to pass through. I don’t mind. I don’t scare easily. Besides I have a man back home, who I have the feeling would come to my rescue faster than I could blink if anything would happen.

The way he held me today was different. He’s touched me before of course, when handing me something or when we brush against each other in the staircase. But today he was different.

Impatient.

Hungry.

It made me hunger for him too, making me fantasize about our lips clasping in a rosy kiss, his hands holding me gently, his mouth whispering romantic words in my ear before his lips go lower and...

Corrupt me.

My fists clench at my waist because I don’t know where that thought came from. I’m not that kind of girl. I’m wholesome. I like hearty things, not dark ones.

But I like Stan, and there is something dark about him even if he tries to hide it. In the very beginning he had me fooled. I confused him for just a regular guy. Then I caught him looking at photos of me in the middle of the night, caught the look on his face when he watched me play.

A look that I will never forget for as long as I live.

A look that makes me feel feverish. Edgy. Like it could make me risk anything, just to have him watching me like that. It’s a drug. One that can’t be bought and sold. Its special. Rare.

Belonging to a rare animal.

And there is something animalistic about Stan. Underneath it all. He’s casual otherwise, bends his head back when he laughs out loud, causing faint lines to spread around his eyes. He smells good. Fresh and crisp.

Normal.

Sometime he watches baseball on the television and waves and chats with the neighbors over the fence. He plays with their fluffy, spoiled dogs and kicks the ball back to the kids whenever they kick it into our yard.

He’s funny too, joking around with me until I laugh so much that it feels like I’m being tickled to death. And the other day he went with his colleagues to grab a beer after work, just like any other guy.

But sometimes all that feels like an act.

Underneath it all he is different. His body language always alert like he doesn’t miss a thing. He doesn’t move the way normal people do. His movements too fluid, too determined.

Like he has a single goal on his mind. It intrigues me, makes me want things from him that a regular girl like me shouldn’t want.

I wonder what Stan would do if I told him that. Would he tell me to give in, ask me to dive into unknown territory? And if I was scared would he still manage to make me feel safe...?

I jump when a twig snaps from behind me.

It catches me off guard and I’m going at such a speed that I come to an abrupt stop. What was that? That sounded like quite the twig breaking, not done by a small, furry animal.

A human?

Shaking myself inwardly, I scold my own mind for jumping to conclusions. Why wouldn’t there be a human? This isn’t my very own forest. Other people run here too.

Yes, but on the trail...

Swallowing, I rub the goosebumps on my arm, trying to look in between the dense trees. There’s no figure. No shadows.

Nothing to worry about and I take off again, a little happy that it won’t be long until I’ve finished the whole trail. And maybe if there really was a person in there, then maybe they were picking something.

Flowers, mushrooms, berries.

Not spying on me.

But I still feel watched and my heart, picks up on my nervousness, immediately reacting. Suddenly I want Stan.

If he was here, I’d feel better. Whenever he’s around, I never feel scared...

In my periphery I catch something swishing by and I let out a low yelp. Jerkily turning my head to the side, I register that there’s nobody there but I know it’s just pretend.

They’re just hiding. Someone really is in there.

With a trembling mouth and panic in my eyes, I run down the trail until fire burns in my chest. Nobody is behind me but it still feels like someone is breathing down my neck.

Trying to get to me. Reaching for me...

I want Stan. I need him right now. I need him so much, that I’m close to bursting out in tears.

Stan, Stan, Stan!

It’s the only chant in my mind and I let out scared, little whimpers, somewhat relieved that soon I’ll be out on the street again but it still doesn’t feel like the danger is over. Whoever is in there could still decide to attack...

The panic makes my throat swell.

I can hear footsteps coming behind me, but when I look over my shoulder there’s nobody there. It’s like someone is playing a trick on me and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. My vision turns blurry and for a second, I see everything in double.

When I stumble, I let out a short cry, expecting someone to reach for me, throw me up into the air like a plaything but there’s nothing and I get up. Whatever is chasing me, it’s like its holding back.

Why? Out of care for me?

I shake my head, leaping over a toppled tree and I gasp from happiness when I catch sight of the street...

My breath punches out of me, when I slam into a tall, hard body, my eyes widening in fear when strong hands clasp around my upper arms.

“Amber?” Voice concerned. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

It’s him. The one I wanted.

“Stan!” I croak, throwing myself around his neck and his arms cage me in. “I’m so happy it’s you. I was so afraid.”

His Adams apple bobs.

“You were?” For some reason his voice is tinged with guilt, like it’s his fault I was scared. But it’s not, he made it all better again.

Even this close to the forest and even though whoever was in there is probably still there, I feel like nothing can hurt me when I’m surrounded by Stan.

“Someone was chasing me,” I say, not even aware of how hard I’m clutching the jacket of his tracksuit. “Someone was after me.”

His hands rub down my shoulders, my arms, controlling the adrenaline.

“Let’s get you home.” 

He puts his arm around me and I automatically lean into him for a second, before looking up at his face.

“Stan,” I whisper, like someone could hear us, “ you don’t understand...I think I know who it was.”