His moves and touch were always soft and gentle. Yet beneath the surface, inside of him, a tethered monster was fighting to get loose. At first this scared me, but then I realised the monster writhing within was the very thing bringing out this overwhelming passion in him. And so, I had come to love this monster of a man.
***
I had always been alone in my world. I have never let anyone in, not for real. Everyone around me kept themselves at such a distance. They did not understand the world I lived in. But it was to be expected I think, in all honesty. I built my walls thick and high enough to keep them all out. I always knew they would never understand me or my world, a world of no light, no colors and no darkness.
Eventually I started to feel safe in my solitude and I do not resent anyone; it was just the way things were. From the day I turned fifteen and my parents died, leaving me to live alone in this huge house, it was just me in my own world and the one outside. I was alone in all aspects. Until the day Jacob came along, that is.
I know I am not pretty, people have told me so, and yet Jacob found me beautiful. He pushed hard to break down the walls I had so carefully built. I could not stand against his presence and charm and he soon removed them, stone by stone, until I stood naked before him. Me, vulnerable in my colorless world, welcomed him in. Like a storm he descended in the center of my life. Just like the rumbling of thunder makes every other sound seem faint, his touch and voice made my own world go silent.
Jacob started coming around here a few days a week. I soon gave him a key, so that he can let himself in when I am sleeping, or when I am out shopping or meeting the people I should call friends.
My so-called friends do not like Jacob, even though they've never met him. I can not blame them though. I might have reacted in a similar way if I had heard a story like mine from someone else. But even though they have eyes, they are blind, they do not see what I see. They do not know what I know.
Jacob is a troubled man. He did not have a balanced life like me when
growing up. No, Jacob had to struggle for his right to live, and this struggle is what makes his hands and demeanor so rough. I knew this, and so it came as no surprise when this struggle caught up to him, just two months after we met.
***
We lay in bed that night, the trails of his lips across my skin still burning as he held my hands close to his lips and kissed them softly. He had carefully explained to me he was in trouble, that he needed money to pay off some debts from his past, fast. I could hear the stress in his voice and how this haunted him, and so I offered to help.
Between the kisses, I told him I had a lot of money after my parents had passed away, and that I'd love to help him. My mother and father had been very wealthy at the time of their passing, and even though I had paid for my house up front, I still had money left, I told him.
Jacob was surprised, delighted and thankful. I was so happy I could ease his mind and I smiled, kissed him
lovingly and told him I'd get the money the day after, and so I did.
The bank did not approve of me, a blind woman, walking home alone with $30,000 in her bag. But I was not afraid. It was a small town that I knew by heart, both the people and the streets, and so I did not think anyone would try to steal from me. Besides, Jacob had asked for cash.
As I had known, I got home perfectly fine. I took off my shoes and placed them in their assigned spot under the coat rack. I reached down to place them just right and felt Jacobs shoes were there. Happy he was in, I called for him. I heard the floorboards move slightly under the weight of his body as he walked with his slightly broken steps from the living room.
As he stopped in the doorway to the hall where I was standing, I smiled and reached out, handing him the envelope.
The rustle of paper told me he opened it in haste, counted the money and then with a relieved sigh he thanked me with a heated kiss. His arms folded themselves tightly around