If you are new to my Reluctant Psychic series, please consider starting from the beginning. The story, characters and events in this chapter will make more sense when given context from the preceding chapters.
If you're returning, welcome back and I hope you enjoy the story.
* * *
I didn't wake up so much as I became aware of my surroundings.
I was in a small room, lying on a narrow bed that squeaked in protest as I moved. The scent of a cherry scented candle filled the air. I sat up and looked around the room, trying to puzzle out where I was. The room seemed familiar, with textbooks neatly arranged on a bookshelf, two carefully aligned movie posters, and a not so carefully arranged bulletin board.
I walked over to the bulletin board and looked at the variety of things that were pinned up. There were tickets to concerts, old friendship bracelets, photos of people I couldn't recognize. In the center of the board, in a place of honor was a Valentine's Day card. The card was propped slightly open by the pin through the back page.
My hand was shaking as I reached to push back the front page of the card. I saw that the colors on the heart had run, and the edges of the paper were worn as if the card had gotten wet. As I open the card, I saw the writing inside was in my handwriting, "Dear Anna," it began.
I pulled my hand back as if I'd been bitten by a snake. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. I looked around the room and memories started crashing into place. The books were the usual freshman texts, but also included Introduction to Psychology. The posters on the wall were for "Casablanca" and "Back to the Future." I looked back to the bed and recognized the quilt I had been lying on, a memory of a long dead, but loving mother.
I turned back to the bulletin board and began to remember some of the events that the ticket stubs and bits of paper represented. Concert tickets, play programs, and matchbooks from restaurants I could hardly afford were placed in a rough circle around the board, hidden amidst all the other signs of an outgoing life.
Only two things stuck out, the Valentine's Day card, and a single movie ticket. The ticket was torn in half and had once born the words, "Admit One." It was the old roll type movie ticket that the classic theater in town used. I touched the ticket remembering the event that it symbolized: my first date with Anna.
"I was about to give up hope," she said. I turned to find Anna standing at the foot of the bed. She looked exactly as I remembered, exactly as she didβI looked back at the bulletin board, following the circle around to its end, a matchbook for the Mandarin. It was where I took Anna for our six month anniversary, the night when weβAnna touched my shoulder, pulling my attention back to her. "I thought you'd never ask me out on a date."
I felt my heart hammering in my chest as she stood before me. Her eyes were blue and clear, gazing up at me, piercing my soul. Thin twin braids pulled her pale blonde hair back from her face, leaving her small slightly elfin ears, and long delicate neck expose. "In the study group you always seemed so sure, but when I got you alone you became so bashful."
"When you finally asked me out, I was so excited. I didn't think I'd like an old movie like Casablanca, but I was afraid if I said no, or suggested something else, you would be scared away." Her hands were pressed against my chest as she stood so very close. I felt the heat from her hands, and the nearness of her body.
This was exactly how it'd happened, all those years ago. It was happening again. I braced for the kiss that I knew was coming, closing my eyes in fear, just as I closed them years ago in anticipation. But the kiss never came, and I felt the cool air replacing Anna's presence. I opened my eyes when I heard the bed squeak, and saw Anna sitting on the bed, her legs crossed demurely.
"I fell in love with you that night. I had liked you for a while, but when I turned to look at you at the end of the movie, and I saw the tears in your eyes, I was in love. I couldn't tell you then, I couldn't even tell you months later when you slogged through the Valentine's Day blizzard to give me that card. You wouldn't even come inside to get warm, you were so afraid of being improper."
"What happened to that man?" she asked.
I couldn't answer. I felt all the confusion, all the self-loathing returning.
* * *
"...you would be scared away." Although my hands didn't shake, I could feel the anxious energy burning through my body. My hands rested on her slender hips and I closed my eyes and bent my head. I felt her nose slide slowly against mine, as we guided our lips blindly together.
Her soft lips pressed against mine, gently. I felt them withdraw slightly, and then press against me again. This time her lips were parted slightly, wrapping softly about my lip. Our lips parted again, this time we pressed a little bit harder, but her lips felt just as tender.
My hands tightened on her waist, pulling her body towards me. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling my face towards hers. We kissed again, tilting our heads to being ourselves closer together. An electric thrill went through me as her tongue slid along my lips. My tongue quested outward, encountering hers and rubbing against it affectionately.
I held her tight, trying to pull her even closer. Her legs parted around my thigh, one leg wrapping around mine as her hips pressed against me. Her arms were just as insistent, pulling me into an ever deepening kiss.
As she kissed me and pressed against me, I felt myself growing hard. I knew she could feel my hardness pressing into her hip, both in the way she moved against me and feeling the excitement from her mind. I could also feel her wondering if I could feel the moisture and heat coming from her as she rubbed herself against my thigh.
I pulled back from the kiss, trying to block out her thoughts. But she was all around me, her scent filled my nostrils, her purring, moaning breath filled my ears. Her arms wrapped around me, her fingers entwined in my hair. Her body conformed to mine as if we were sculpted from a single stone. Her desire was such a perfect mirror of my own that I lost track of where her needs ended and mine began.