chapter fifty-one, Friday:22ndnovember2013, Daniel
Daniel. All I can think of is: I can't think.
He heads straight to me, I can’t detect the mood he is in, his face is a mask of control, He's in calm, not letting anything show.
Steven turns to see him approach, I am still trapped firmly in his grasp, “f*ck!” He says under his breath, and I feel his grip loosening, he steps away from me and retreats saying nothing, and heads directly to the bar, I don’t see him again. I would have considered that rude, but my mind is not in the mood to consider anything right now.
The man I love is walking toward me, I love him, I’m even more certain about it now I see him. I'm in pain, I want to turn away but Daniel keeps coming, looking at me, my heart stops and my insides burn. I can't move even if I wanted to. I blame the shoes, Christian Louboutin’s, they’re very high. True bloody story.
He strides long purposeful strides, strong and athletic, a powerful man, bent and focused, and incredibly beautiful. He is getting looks from all sides and gasps of pleasure from the women, but he ignores every call on his attention and just keeps coming. Eyes only on me, burning into me.
I can’t move, can’t speak, can’t think.
Yes, it probably is too wet to cut the lawn.
I am hurt, and whimper out an “oh god.” under my breath, but I still can’t look away. He’d been with that woman, how can I forgive? But still, seeing Him moving toward me sets me on fire again, my nerves tingle with anticipation, I have missed him, my body yearns for his touch and I am once again at his mercy, physically and emotionally. He looks gorgeous, his chiselled squared features strong and masculine, his look is blazing into me, making me feel naked and possessed, and it is welcome, gloriously welcome to me, to all of me. I focus on him as he moves quickly toward me, he looks model-gorgeous, his shirt wings are short and skinny tie very skinny and shiny black. Jacket lapels satin, narrow and long with a single button, done up. He has a day’s shadow of stubble and his hair is slick and shiny, a neat roll not the usual floppy. He takes my breath away. Again.
Notice to all, with an entrance like that, He reads Vogue.
His face is slim, a little slimmer than the last time I saw him, a dimpled chin and hollow cheeks with high cheekbones, his lips are full and soft. His eyebrows are heavy and dark and his eyelashes are long. His eyes are clear intense green grey and sparkle with a calm confident sexual intensity it’s impossible not to read. He strides across to me in long powerful strides, his tux looks incredible on him and slicked hair make it impossible for him to play with, his hands are large and soft, the skull ring glinting in the low light. He smiles a crooked seductive smile and I am at his mercy already and he’s not even close enough to smell, Daniel smells incredible. His tux slim trousers are to his ankle and his sharp pointed Chelsea boots are long and polished.
At his waist is the McQueen skull belt I bought him, his tattoos are a shadow of greyed indigo and I am anxious as he closes the gap between us quickly so I can touch him finally. He is approached on his way from several directions, and hello's are directed at him, but as he answers all the calls on his time, his burning darkened eyes never once leave mine. He’s making it perfectly clear it’s me he’s heading to and nothing is going to stop him, a purposeful stride, he's close now.
He reaches me finally, bends down his eyes never leaving mine, I take him in, breathe him, and he gently grazes my upturned lips with his, and I cave into a black hole that is him, all consuming, I want him to consume me. Then he breaks away.
For a second or two Daniel just stands motionless arms at his sides a faraway expression but his eyes are burning into mine in their intensity, for a second his cruel look follows Steven through the crowd, then returns back to me, and my eyes alone, anger, passion, I see conflict and I feel power. At that moment nothing else matters, it’s just him and me in the whole world. And the dress of course.
Note to self, write a note of thanks to Vivienne, bloody hell that woman knows dresses.
“Come.” Is all he says quietly, taking my wrist and urging me to him, his rough handling sends shivers through me. I gather the enormous mille feux gossamer silk hems of my gown in one hand, my leather envelope clutch in another and I’m trying to move as elegantly as possible. Allowing myself to be completely taken by this man. No question, no debate, no hello even, he tells me, I obey, I can’t get enough of him, I’d do anything he asks me to. Yes, anything, even brush my hair, wear colour, ride dressage…wait a minute, maybe not that far, not colour.
My brain has stopped me so many times with its chattering warnings about men in the past, but it doesn’t question Daniel, not even a little whimper of a question, with him is the only time I am quiet up there, but the rest of me is restless. I am so wholly attracted by this man, everything about him is as if I’d designed him for myself. Transfixed by my captor I don’t even notice the few people who attempt to interrupt our swift journey through the throng of people. Smartly dressed men and beautifully gowned women champagne glasses chinking in the sparkly light, move aside at the sight of this handsome man leading me with purpose to the stairs, brows lifted and whispered murmurs.
His Mother watches the scene jaw slack as her girlfriends whisper to each other all looking our way, Jess is among the throng around Barbara Pearse, she must have slinked in without me noticing, did she come with Daniel? Either way she stares unblinking at me, I’d be uncomfortable if I wasn’t already attached to Daniel. And my dress is much nicer than hers, naturally, it’s a Westwood.
“Daniel.” I say breathless and I follow behind him at an almost run to keep up, “I don’t want to fight with you.” I tell him in earnest, every part of my being, begging him silently to stop and talk to me, kiss me, hold me, let me know things between us can be good again. I can’t go through this again, I’m exhausted with worry and wonder, and I’m sure why.
I have forgotten what I’m like on my own, forgotten my own self, I have disappeared, I need him to make me better so I can remember, so I can feel again. To put my hand into the flame and it burn me, that’s what I need. The trick, so I’m told, is not minding that it hurts.
Daniel just pulls me harder, and I begin to wonder if this is the last time I’ll see him, if this is him breaking up with me, glad I have a great dress and high heels for a swishy theatrical exit. He yanks my arm and pulls me to another flight of stairs leading up and around a corner, a wide sweep and shallow step, thick blood red carpet under my Louboutin's. That's Christian Louboutin, for all those downstairs wearing ugly little pumps. Yuk, loads of money and very little taste! Buy Vogue, that's my tip.
I have to heave my dress skirt onto my arm to leave my legs free to climb the stairs, my legs are weak and I feel a tremble, I am outside myself looking down at this weak creature I don’t recognise, pale and thinner from not eating. I look away at myself in disgust, how could I let myself fall so hard for this man, what has he done to me?
Enter at C in working walk, down the centre line to X, halt and salute.
Any ground I gained speaking with Jess, completely lost now she is here. Around the corner, he stops and I have my back to the wall slumped against its hard surface. Silence, just a dark powerful glare, he is so close I can smell his hair and feel his hot breath on my face, I weaken at the sight of him, I can barely let out a sound “Daniel.” I try, but all I manage is a choked whisper, not sure what I would have said anyway.
Half-pass across the arena to H.
But before I can say anything Daniel lifts his hand to me, I flinch away from him in an instinctive defensive move, and a deep look of hurt fills his eyes, and he puts his finger gently across my lips to quiet me. “I’m so sorry,” I mumble through his attempt to stop me saying anything.
Ride a 20 metre circle at B, collected canter.
Dressage, I feel the need to explain, is like maths to me. When I need to focus, I do a tricky task in my head, some people do long division, some the square root of 76, me? Dressage. Does that explain it for now?
Bending down toward me I expect a light touch of his lips but he kisses me hard, breathing heavily into me, devouring me with his mouth. “I miss you baby, please” he breathes, “Please don’t leave me.” He hisses in whisper. Kissing again our tongues flicking in and out of each other’s mouths, engaged and enticing. All at once I am back in the world, I can remember what it’s like to feel. He kisses me, biting my lip, licking over my bottom lip and trailing hot kisses down my neck. “You are everything to me,” he breathes.
Taking my wrists firmly in both hands he raises them up above my head locking them there while his lips and tongue swallow me deeper still, he is f*cking my mouth, our tongues sliding around each other’s in a frenzy, I can’t move, I don’t want to move, I’m at his mercy and I like it.
Tea?
As an addict, I crave and yearn, just the slightest touch of him, the smell of him satisfies a greater need inside me to consume him more, to be taken over and find myself again, because I have been lost. Finally I can take no more, and sobbing great heaving lungful’s of air I slide down the wall to the floor between his legs, almost consumed by my Vivienne Westwood phenomenal black dress. The woman is a genius. I don't want to talk, I just want to kiss him, feel his body against mine, and swirl around like a princess in my beautiful dress, who wouldn’t? Good question. He crouches down beside me, shaking a thought away from his own mind for a second I see a deep hurting there, “I was sick with jealousy when I saw you Tharie,” he tries to keep his mask on but he's hurting and angry, “I saw you with my brother, you two looked intimate.” He looks sadly at me, “and it made me insane, I thought you'd run from me, that I’d lost you.” I just shake my head, men. True story.
“Your Brother asked me to dance,” I tell him quietly and calmly, impressed because I don’t feel either of those things, then it occurs to me this might be the longest conversation the two of us have had recently. I shake the thought away like a pesky fly buzzing my head “I wouldn’t have met him at all if you’d have been here.” I say in a soft voice that I don’t feel, I put my hand on his cheek, “but you needed to be somewhere else remember?” He winces. But this is my opportunity to tell him everything, it’s too important to hold it in. less said soonest mended? That's the key to a mental episode.
I'm suddenly hungry again.
I had decided not to confront him on the Jess issue, I don’t want to hear what happened, I just want his lips on mine, his hands on me, inside me. I lean into him my head raised. He leaves me hanging there yearning for him, waiting. I look at his face, confusion, dissipating anger, calming...love? “I was telling an old friend goodbye Tharie,” he brushes a stray strand of hair from my face, “she's not in my life any-more.”
“She sent me photos of you two at the charity ball Daniel, she sent me an e-mail.” What have you got to say about that then, I almost vocalise?
Looking angry he bites back an outburst, instead he smiles at me to remind me how he feels about me. “I’ll deal with her, you won't hear from her again, she was never my girlfriend, but she has obviously been orchestrating a different impression, I see it now.” Thank goodness for that. Her hair is far too shiny to be anything but pure evil. He clenches and unclenches his fists at his side, slides down onto the floor with me, his long legs sprawled out in front of him, his hip touching me, if this is all I’m getting I’ll take it. And I lay my hand on his leg.
“You won’t need to Daniel,” I tell him guiltily and happily, “I don’t think I’ll be hearing from her again!” Quietly triumphant, my slowly recharging body gains some of its momentum and I reach my body across the mile that just separated us and kiss him gently on his soft full lips. Instantly he breaks out of a fog, his mask is gone, his expression clear and beautiful, my Daniel is back. He smiles intoxicating at me and my nerves shiver sweetly in expectation.
“Engaged eh?” He smirks at me, my obvious look of shock not brilliantly masked, I consider a deflection. Nope, no getting out of this one.
“How mad is your Mum about that?” Not really caring, wonder why she said nothing earlier, coward.
“Mad as hell, tea?” He smiles and brushes my cheek with the back of his hand.
“OK” his smile thaws my dark side, not sure whether his agreed to marry me or find some tea, but I don’t care, either will do, for now.
“I love you Daniel” I whisper to him, “there’s only you who can make me feel so lost and found like this.” I bow my head remembering how I was feeling not an hour ago.
“I know” he lowers his gaze.
“You do?” Bloody hell, where's that tea?
“I need you Tharie.” He returns, “I am miserable without you, please, give me a chance to prove it.” He looks sincere, “I’ll make mistakes, I'm not used to relationships.” I gasp, my feelings overwhelm me and I can hear the blood pumping through my head.
Leg-yield across the arena to H.
It’s hard to breathe, I choke and blood circulates through my veins and I feel every litre of it surging through me, I hear a roaring in my ears and I tremble to my knees, trying to get on my feet but failing.
Daniel is instantly kneeling beside me, cupping my chin in his hand, and kissing my fingers, making me feel safe and loved. "I’m trying to tell you Daniel," I speak with a trembling soft voice, "that I’m in love with you."
He exhales and seems to tremble before me, lowering his head so our contact is broken.
“I know.” I can feel that's true.
Thinking, thinking, mulling my head is messy and noisy and I hold it between my hands.
Renvers from K to X, then turn on the forehand to the right, continue to A. Right? Which way's that?
As Daniel lifts his head to look at me his expression is one of a softness I’ve never seen before, an intensity, it's like his whole self is calling out to me asking for help. I want to give to him, but I can't move a muscle. He stands finally, taking every ounce of effort, pulling me up with him, we cling to each other.
"Tharie," his soft deliberate tone stops my voices immediately, suddenly the whole universe is quiet for an instant, and all that exists is us two. His words hit me between the eyes, "I love you too."
Visibly relieved Daniel sinks back to a slouch position like every ounce of energy has been drained from his body. He stands there vulnerable in his black skinny tux, trousers with a narrow shiny stripe down the leg from Burberry, which sit very low on his hips. The v of his abdominals clearly defined through his slim shirt, and the tightness of his muscular slim frame like a sculpture so very beautiful. I worship this man, and he is mine.
Exit at a sitting trot.
Daniel looks at me tilting his head a little to break the intensity of these moments, I smile at him. “Did you say something about tea Daniel?” He laughs, a beautiful warming sound.
“Did you say something about an exit at C, sitting trot?” don't judge me.
“Silly boy, must be hearing things again.”