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I spent a lot of time and effort making myself look like the kind of tough punk that would never do that girly shit. It’s kind of important when you are trying to have a tough image. I honestly don’t know if I naturally favored a punk look or if I came to like it simply because I wanted to look unapproachable.
If I think very hard, keeping myself relaxed, I can remember Mom. I must have been very small. I can see the sweep of her auburn hair and her smile. We were both wearing pink dresses and Dad was there, clean shaven and dressed in a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt. Before Mom died. Before Dad had to go back to working as a full-time mechanic to pay the bills.
Maybe I could have been someone else if they lived. I barely remember Mom. Dad never talked about her. When he died too it was like my entire world was squeezing me to death. All the sharp, dark, horrible things in this fucked up place ganged up and pounced on me. I got put in a foster home, but after the last few grand cleared from Dads accounts, I just took off and never looked back.
I can’t be happy about my past, but I can be sure of Helen. Every twisted road I’ve ever walked has led me here to her. She hasn’t asked about my family and I know that I will tell her, I just don’t know when or how.
The fact that she hasn’t asked just makes me love and respect her more. Usually the first thing people ask is about my past—half accusingly, too. As if their real question is, ‘how did you get so fucked up?’
I don’t know much about Helens family except that she is clearly terrified for them to find out about her love of kink. Something in the way she was raised forced her to shove her deepest desires far away. So far away that it was impossible for her to understand them. I hope that having her section in the magazine will give her the freedom she needs.
There is so much we don’t know about each other. It gives me a feeling of intense anticipation, finding out all there is to know about my lover.
I know the most important things. How she likes her coffee, her favorite food. How tightly she likes her rope tied and what it sounds like when she comes.
I head out to the living room and put on some music, snuggling down in the cushions. I think I’ll have to keep Helens robe. Since that first day I’ve found it like a comforting blanket, as if she’s holding me even when she’s not here.
Even on that first day, I desperately wanted her to hold me. I think that even then I knew I never wanted her to let me go.
The door clicks open and Helen comes in, smiling when she sees me. I launch myself off the couch and run to her, slamming her back against the door to kiss her.
“You missed me that much huh?”
“Dude, I’m hungry!” I grab the paper sack out of her hands. “What did you bring me?”
“Donuts, donuts and more donuts. What, you didn’t make coffee?”
I wink at her. “You didn’t bring me any?”
She laughs and goes to switch on the kettle. I sit down again, and tear open the bag. Several different kinds of donuts come falling out and I grab a sugar dusted jam one.
“You didn’t miss me too much, did you?” Helen asks softly as she sits down beside me.
“Of course, I did.” I turn to her and stroke her face. “I like to know where you’ve gone.”
“I’m sorry.” She kisses me firmly. “I’ll let you know next time, but there was something I had to go out for. I thought Id be back before you woke up.”
“Yeah well, our plans of being back before the other notices we’re gone have a nasty track record.”
Helen laughs as she goes to the kitchen to make the coffee. “Maybe we’re doomed.”
“Doomed!” I joke as I tear into another donut.
When Helen sits beside me and takes a strawberry donut, I watch her face suddenly go through a state of tension, as if she’s worrying about something.
“Hey babe, you okay?” I put my coffee down, hoping that what I said didn’t bum her out.
She looks up at me so seriously I actually get scared.
“I went out early for a certain thing… But now I’m not so sure it was a good idea.”
I put down my breakfast and turn to her, giving her my full attention.
“Don’t you dare. Don’t go beating around any bushes. You got something to say, woman, you get out and say it.”
“Okay.” She grins with relief. “You asked for it.”
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a velvet box.
