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    Andr0gene
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Confounded: Part II - 29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29 --==Kit’s POV==--

It remained quiet for a long time as I brooded in silence. I was angry with myself as much as his inability to see that I was right here. For him. With him. All he’d have to do is meet me halfway here.

“Sorry,” it sounded, gruffly.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” I bit out.

“I…”
His mouth opened and closed several times; then he swallowed audibly and spoke very softly, his voice sounding thick.
“I don’t know how to do this. Apparently, you want me to react in a certain way, holding me to some sort of ridiculous standard I’m not privy to, failed to gimme the manual and then blame me for not meeting the target. All I know is what it felt like with Sandro, and that didn’t even come near…this.”

It was such an astute observation, it blew me out of the water. He was right. I’d steamrolled on, expecting things I had no right to expect, this fast. He’d come so far in such a short time and here I was, forcing the issue, wanting to hear things from him he maybe wasn’t even ready to say.

“Shit..”

“That’s three times I’ve heard you swear. I’m that good of an influence, huh?”
Sending me a sour smile, he retracted his feet and made to get up.
“Maybe I better go to my room.”

“No, wait…” I said, reaching out to grab his hand and stop him from rising.
He sat back down, staring at my hand grabbing his. I lessened my grip and turned his hand over, then laced my fingers with his.

“I’m sorry. You’re trying, and I… I was being a jerk. You’re right. I umm…”
Biting my lower lip, I figured the truth might be best here.
“I guess I’m frustrated. I have this whole thing in my head, how it is supposed to go, being in a relationship. I see…”

“A white picket fence, doggies on the porch, yada yada?” He cut in, his voice laced with sarcasm but also inflected with humor.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“And instead you got me...”
That did make me snicker.

“Yeah. Hellboy.”

“Thanks.”
But a corner of his mouth went up.
“Maybe I really should just go, before this gets ugly.”
I squeezed his fingers a little but he made no attempt to get up.

“No. This is good. We’re talking. Now we’re on our date.”

“So…you wanna talk…”

“This might be a better idea, I think.”

“Hmm…mmk. But then I need a cigarette.”

“Go smoke one, then.”
That caused an eyebrow to raise.

“You don’t mind?”

“Outside,” I clarified, nodding to the slide-door, exiting to the pool area. “And I do mind, for all the reasons you probably know. We all have our vices. That’s yours.”

“What’s yours,” he asked, rising to his feet.

“Clothes,” I answered, grinning up at him. “

“Ah. Yeah, you go for that whole office thing, don’t you? Looking smart and all that. Bossy.”
I shrugged. What was wrong with wanting to look nice? As for the bossy part…

“Go get your cigarette and poison yourself.”

**********

“Would you…tell me about him?” I asked when Tom returned from outside.

He’d grabbed the beer from my desk and it was now dangling between his pulled up knees, his arms resting on them. We’d talked a little already, pretty much about my vice and his comment about me being bossy. We established that yes, I was. But that he didn’t mind it because he found it challenging and something he’d ‘dealt with’ before. It didn’t take me long to add two and two together.

“Who?”

“Miguel…”
He seemed to stiffen slightly. Then he took a swig of the beer.

“What do you want to know?

“What was he like?”

“Aside from the bossy part? Tall, hot tempered, possessive, dominant, demanding, impatient on one side, very loyal and proud on the other, especially to his family and friends. A lot like you, without the hot tempered bit. You’re a lot more…even. He was very unpredictable.”
The comment stung a bit, but he might be right. I was predictable. A safety guy, like I’d told him before. I like security. The loyal and proud, family and friends bit was definitely a compliment though, but I kept my mouth wisely shut and just took that score.

“How so?”
He stared at the label of the bottle for a while.

“He could get a little rough.”
I froze.

“He hit you?”

“No, but he didn’t like it if I went against him. He’d show it, put me in my place. Or the place he thought I should be. But it usually was my fault, taunting him too far.”
There was that. I knew exactly how that felt, and what it made me want to do, sometimes.

“I bet. Used your brain and that poison tongue of yours a lot on him, did ya?”
He turned his head and grinned.

“Oh yeah. Never failed to get a reaction out of him, then.”

“What would he do?”

“Yell, rant, storm off. But he always came back. He never wanted to leave things unresolved at the end of the day.”

“Wow…he really must’ve loved you…”
His cheeks reddened there.

“Yeah.”

“Did he tell you?”

“Every day.”

“I’m jealous.”
Looking up, he sent me a pensive stare back.

“Don’t be.”

“Why not?”

“Because it hurts like hell when it’s over.”
He pushed himself off the floor.
“I need a cigarette.”

I watched him go over to the desk where he retrieved the pack he’d gotten from his room earlier, then went to the slide-door and stepped outside.
He stood there, taking small sips from the beer, illuminated by only the lights in the pool, his face sometimes basking in an eerie red glow when he drew on the cigarette. He looked so lonely then, that I couldn’t help myself.
Rising to my feet, I went over, making him glance up over his shoulder when he heard the door.

Without a word I stepped up behind him and pulled him into a tight hug.

andr0gene 2005-present
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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I 'm afraid to hope for too much, here. But it does feel like things could pan out OK. They seem to fit together well. Kind of like opposites.

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