NOT OBESSESSED WITH SEX

Damn it!

This was not us before. It kills me to see us this way. But since I don't know what his problem is, I will just swim in this heart-wrecking mood and hope that things will cool down eventually. I serve the breakfast, which we take in utter silence like two strangers who haven't been introduced to each other. Like two mute strangers, because I believe that a stranger with the ability to speak would have at least aired even just a ‘thank you for the breakfast’. But not this one. It is like my efforts mean absolutely nothing to him.

I clean the dishes like good wife material and walk to get to my room. My room is in his house. I don't spot him anywhere as I walk upstairs, and I figure out he has locked himself in the study or his bedroom to avoid me. I am now a plaque, or a calamity, that he wants to avoid. I toss everything in my suitcases without caring to fold anything, leaving only jeans, a tee, and the sports shoes I'll be wearing.

I take a towel and walk to the shower. I would have opted for a warm bath in the Jacuzzi, but I want to get out of here soonest. I never would have thought that a time like this would ever come. A time that I would feel so much anger towards him. I thought that we would always remain free and open to each other, like we have always been. But I guess I was wrong.

With a heavy and downcast heart and a very big lamp in my throat, I push the bathroom door open, taking off the towel as I close the door. I feel like I am even about to cry, but I take a deep breath, turning to walk in the shower, and I hope that I will feel a little change of mood once I am done with this shower.

Wait, shit! I grab the towel and cover myself at once. What the freaking hell! "I have seen that body countless times. I have a clear picture of every curve in it. Even with my eyes closed, I can perfectly sketch every curve of your body." He speaks through the curtain of water dripping down him from under the running shower.

Is he for real? No, is he really for real? This is how we will always settle our differences. Naked? Under the showers? With sex?

"If you are not an asshole jerk, get out of that shower and give me some privacy." I fire at him.

"What if I want to be one? What if I actually am one? I'll stay right here, right?" He retorts.

"Then I'll have to leave without taking a shower because I can’t handle this. Goodbye!" I turn to leave, but as the jerk that he really is, he grabs me before I can even get the door knob. He pulls me under the shower forcefully, making me squirm with fear as I bump on his chest.

"Are you sure this is the goodbye you want?" He asks, pulling off the towel from me and throwing it on the wet floor.

He is really tempting me, huh? "I don't want goodbye sex. So if that is what is on your mind right now, shake it off! Not everything can be solved by sex, Mr. Moore!" I howl, and he closes his eyes bitterly, turning off the shower and cold-slapping my body. I don't think he feels it because he is fuming hot as always.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I am not obsessed with that shit? Is that what you really think of me? My brain is right in the head where it should be, not between my legs, Gia!" He roars.

"Then what are you doing here after treating me like I am invisible downstairs?" I howl back.

"If you were invisible, would I be here? You asked me to leave you alone in the kitchen, didn't you?" Well... "I wanted to apologize for being a dick in the ass, but I don't think that is necessary anymore since that is exactly what you see me as." He fires.

If only he could let me go, I would run out of this shower and out of his house in a flash, because I don't like the look in his eyes or the tone of his voice. He is turning the tables around, making me feel like I harshly judged him and thought so low of him. I now feel like I am the one who is always thinking of sex.

"You've made your decision, and I am not that selfish to tie you down. I just thought that." His words got hijacked somewhere on their way out, and no matter how much he is trying to force them out, he is failing. He takes a deep breath in and out, and I eagerly wait to hear what he has to say, hoping that finally he has found the words. "forget it. I am letting you go in peace."

I think I just had a miscarriage of hope! What? Letting me go? Why does that sound so deep? Why does it hurt so deeply? Why does my heart feel like its bleeding?

"Good luck, Gia. I hope I am allowed to visit for even just a cup of coffee." He adds, and I nod my head before he thinks otherwise, my heart rejoicing with a little hope. At least, he still wants to see me after this. "I'll drop you off then." He adds calmly. Faintly. With a tinge of hurt. What I said is still taking a toll on him. Me and paranoia! Why do I have to always ruin everything, huh?

"Thank you." I whisper, and he leans in to plant a kiss on my forehead, cupping my cheeks with his palms. I guess this means that we are okay now?

"Can we now have a shower? With sex out of your minds?" He asks with a faint smile on his lips, so faint that it doesn't brighten his face. I nod my head, and he turns the shower on, pulling me to him. We cuddle under the shower, letting ourselves wander away for a while, the sound of the running water being the only sound between us, our hearts beating against our bare chests.