Page 86 of All That Remains
"I'mhungrrrry!" I growled. "Ahhhhhh!"
"Metoo," he grinned, switching to the other foot. "I was waitin' on ya...to see what you'd want."
"Everything, I think."
"Like last time?" he snickered, referencing our feast from the other day.
"Pasta and steak and chicken and pork and lobster and—"
"Just killallthe animals."
“Yesss.”
Later he pulled the sheet away. Rather exposed, I covered myself, but he removed my hands, kissing my thighs and belly. Pressing his warm lips to the large, sword-wielding angel inked across my ribcage, wings outstretched. It was his favorite of mine. He had a similar one, a massive portrait of the archangel Michael slaying Lucifer, which trailed down his entire right flank. It had cost him a great deal of anguish, but the resultwas sublime. He now traced the amber-eyed panther that curled around my hip. Then closely examined the new rosary draped around my forearm. Finally, the secret Roman galea with the red plume inked on my lower abdomen, which only he knew the meaning of. I'd gotten it long before he left, but hardly anyone knew. Least of all the fans, who liked to categorize and copy my ink.
Eventually he reached across me to grab a cigarette from the opposite nightstand, which I lit for him like old times. I hadn’t even realized I'd grabbed the lighter. After setting it aside, a thought occurred to me.
"You know you're, uh,willfullyinhaling things likeleadinto your body? And about 4,000 other chemicals? Or should I say3,999otherchemicals."
"Oh, gee, really? No way, I hadnoidea, bro. Thank you for tellin' me. You're so bloody smart..."
"Hey, easy on the sarcasm. I was just stating facts. Look," I grabbed the package and read the Surgeon General's warning."Cigarette Smoke Contains Carbon Monoxide."I face-palmed. "Mate, it'srighton the bloody label. What're you doing with your life?"
"Well alcohol's really bad for you too, y'know."
"Oof...touché, my friend.Touché." I laughed. "Gimme some of that!" I reached for the cigarette and he dodged away.
"Now why would you wanna smoke somethin’ if you know it'ssohhhbad for you, huh?"
"Because, you're doing it."
"And?"
"I dunno." I propped up onto my elbows and shrugged.
"Guess that's as good a reason as any," he decided, maneuvering to lay back across the center of the bed; resting his head on my lap. I pulled the sheet over my crotch and helpedhim get comfortable. He squinted through the smoke, taking long drafts and gazing at the ceiling.
"We'resooolazy, " I moaned, falling back onto the pillows.
"Always 'ave been. Nothin' new."
I picked a little crust from the corner of my nose, then rubbed my eyes.
"...because I'mobsessedwith you."
"Hm?"
It was a stupid thing for me to say, but it was out there now. Best to roll with it.
"That's why I want to smoke. Becauseyou'redoing it, I guess. That's just the way my brain works."
"Mm..." He contemplated my answer a while, his silence driving me up a wall.
How was I still afraid of his rejection, even after seeing the muraled room and the manner in which he made love to me? Hadn't I been accepted beyond measure? How could he reasonablyrejectme or think me grotesque or pitiful after the things he’d revealed since I arrived; both in word and in action? But I suppose my apprehension was a testament to the sheer power he held. I wouldnevernot be intimidated by him.
Finally, he admitted, "Maybe I'm obsessed with you too, then."
"So... we’re obsessed with each other?"
