Silence greeted me as I rapped at the door multiple times but I was not willing to give up just yet. Instead, I dared myself to twist the doorknob and slightly taken aback that the bedroom door was not locked as I had imagined.
"Ed?" I whispered as I let myself in in a tiptoe manner. It was silly of me, to be honest because once the door was opened, it was akin to an open field. Thankfully, my presence was not noticed. He was sitting down on the floor with his back resting at the edge of the bed. His hand was still clutching onto the neck of the wine bottle with a wine glass nowhere in sight. I thought he was fast asleep until I saw him struggling to place the mouth of the wine to his lips. I shook my head and sighed, feeling somewhat guilty knowing he had been chugging down the bottle like some beer.
"You might want to slow down with that," I said, grabbing the green bottle from him.
His flushed face looked quite confused with his drink being snatched away right under his nose. His eyebrows furrowed but eased when his unfocused eyes met mine. "Bed…?" He slurred, only managing the first word out clearly, all while having a hard time trying to stand up.
"No, I'm not sleeping yet," I answered confidently even though I was not sure if that was what he wanted to say. I lent him a hand, letting him use my body as a support. But it was a huuuuuuge mistake! Very huge!
See, in his inebriated form, he was understandably shirtless. He was feeling hot. It was not because the heater in the room was set high nor was it because the room was insulated quite well from the cold Autumn night. It was, instead, purely the works of the devil, namely the red wine. While I was completely aware of his lack of shirt the moment I entered the room and that I had seen a silhouette of that body earlier that evening,I thought I had a very strong self-control. But nooooooooooooooo, I never knew I had a perverted mind locked somewhere deep within. Let alone having the hotties on a very vulnerable man whose judgement was terribly impaired with goodness know of his awareness state.
'Bad Maisie! Bad!!!' I reprimanded myself at the audacity. 'Must be that stupid smut trying to sneak out and possess me when I least expect it.'
Yes, it was an excuse I quickly threw. I may lose my memory but I'm not that stupid. I know. And I know very well I could not fool myself but it was an excuse nonetheless. After all, I had not satiated my sexual desire from reading the five detailed pages worth of naughtiness and to have skin contact with the main character of my journal was enough to drive my pussy wild.
So I pushed him to the bed, instead of tucking him nicely like I intended to, to save my sanity of course. He groaned from the sudden movement. Or slurred. Whatever! Poor him, yes! In my defence, one! He landed on something soft. Two! He would have zero recollection of what happened, unlike me and three! No bruise, no hard impact when he fell! Meaning he would not even have any evidence of being pushed whereas I, a person who had not done any hard exercises in the past few months, had the weight of a drunken man on me. I knew I would regret helping him the morning after when the achy muscles restricted my movement.
Knowing so, I still steered both of his legs and pushed them gently onto the bed. He was putting a fight and honestly, I wanted to give up before he might kick and hurt me for real. Fortunately, shushing does the trick as it would to a sleepy baby.
Once I was done with the whole ordeal, I slumped at the corner of the bed trying to catch my breath. At the same time, a feeling of regret engulfed me. I wanted to be there for him knowing that I knew how much he had to put up with. But I was too late. Not only that, I had missed the opportunity to talk to him in regards to our relationship and how he was able to cope the multiple times I lost my memories or when he had to cancel the wedding reception. I admired his strength because I could not even imagine being in his shoes.
After all, we were both strangers in the first place and to have a wedding reception planned under a year of knowing each other and had it postponed three times? I would straight up take that as a hint from above that we were not meant to be. Surely our love could not be THAT deep.
If he were to run off the third time, I would not even know and he would not have suffered dealing with me. I believed the first two times taking care of me would have been enough to get rid of the guilt if need be because the fault of the car accident did not lie on him alone.
"Dewdrop." His voice low and husky. A little too seductive sounding to my ear, stirring awake what I thought was dormant due to exhaustion.
"Be right back," I said, needing to get out of the room as soon as possible since I was the only sane one in there.
"No… Come back."
'Oh stop it you! Don't seduce me when I'm desperately thirsty for something.'
Obviously, I was not going to say it out loud. Instead, I kept my distance and excused myself to fetch him a jar of water. Even though the distance was not that far, I ran to the kitchen as soon as the bedroom door closed behind me. Running would be an excuse for my rapid heartbeat. It would also make all the blood stop pooling down there. Of course, running too, would be a great exercise to stop thinking about sexercise.
'It's not him that you want. It's what he HAS that you want!' I repeated the mantra in my head, wishing ovulation would be the very reason why I was easily aroused.