Harp Un-strung

“Are you okay?” I ask, unsure of myself.

“Oh, it’s just the onions,” he dismisses it.

He says nothing else.

“Here are Emma's pajamas,” he says, handing me over a green cotton cloth, “let me know if these don’t fit you.”

It’s déjà vu, only this time, I really need the rest. After dinner, he gave me a pill to take my temperature down. I feel slightly better by the time I’m ready for bed, but I’m still unsure if I could get a wink of sleep.

“Claire?” he asks again.

“Huh?” I ask, wondering what he had said. “Did you say something?”

“I asked if you need anything else.”

“Oh no, I don’t think so.”

“Goodnight then,” he says. “If you need anything, I’m in the next bedroom. Don’t hesitate.”

“Thanks…and goodnight, Mike,” I say and close the door behind me.

Déjà vu it is.

~ Mutual Happenings ~

I toss and turn, lie sideways and on my back, but sleep is an elusive fairy that evades me every time. I feel washed out and exhausted. The events from the last two days have drained me out. Emotional drama isn’t my cup of tea, but then, my life is full of it.

I was surprised to see Claire. She looked like hell. Hair askew, dark spots under her eyes and dead tired. I wanted to say it’ll be okay but I wanted her to torment her. Perhaps I was too angry at that time.

I don’t believe that a person can change overnight, but Claire seemed sincere about it. She’s a great person, but it’ll take some time for her to change. I just hope she doesn’t back out, or lose faith on the way.

I close my eyes and her face appears. She’s crying and begging for reasons unknown as I stand above her, emotionless and angry.

I sit up abruptly, wondering if I could ever sleep like this.

“Claire, I’m beginning to hate this sound.”

“Like this?” She reaches and knocks on my door again.

“Yes, like this,” I sigh. “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t sleep,” she says. Her eyes are wide open and she has a loony smile on her lips.

I bet she isn’t even thinking straight.

“You need to go to sleep.”

“I know, but I can’t. Can you sleep?”

“No.”

“We both can’t sleep!” she exclaims in a hushed voice, as if she just discovered my fourth wife in hiding.

I make a mental note to steal a prescription of sleeping pills.

“What do you want to do?” I ask, wracking my brain to come up with a solution.

“I say we wreck something.”

“No. That’s not gonna happen in my house.”

Just then, an idea strikes me out of the blue.

“Come with me,” I say, and grab her hand.

Until today, I’d never realized how much I’ve missed this. It was mostly Emma and me on weekends, while Mom and Dad preferred to spend some quality time together outside.

“Where are we going?” she asks as I lead her upstairs.

“You’ll see.”

I open the door adjoining the terrace. The night skies are clear, devoid of any clouds.

“Wait here,” I say and rush back to the supplies wardrobe just beside the door.

I rush back in record time, and lay the blankets on the terrace floor. I rush back again for the pillows and lay them on the blankets. There’s enough space on it for two people to lie side-by-side.

“We’re sleeping here?” she asks incredulously. “Out in the open?”

“No, we’ll just lie down for a while,” I reply nonchalantly.

“You’re nuts. What if it rains?”

“It won’t.” I arrange the thick blankets so that they don’t poke uncomfortably. With the deepest sigh I’ve taken in a while, I lie down on my back and stretch my legs.

I can barely make out her expression in this darkness, but she finally acquiesces and lies down beside me.

“Wow,” she says after a while.

The sky is littered with diamonds, each trying to outshine its counterpart against the velvet background. It’s rare to see a clear sky, and hardly a handful of people ever stop to look at the vista above their own heads. Thin cirrus clouds hang above, illuminated by the moon behind them, covering the sky like a gauzy curtain.

It’s a stunning view.

“There’s Aquarius,” I say, pointing the group to my right. “He’s faint, but he’ll be bright again in September.”

“I recognize that one. It’s the belt of Orion.” She points to three brighter groups amongst the countless ones.

“The two faint stars from the other side form Orion’s head and bow.”

“I never knew the dark could be so…captivating.” She studies the sky with eyes wide open like an innocent child. “How did I miss this?”

“You just had to take a look around.”

The cool summer breeze is soothing, strangely mesmerizing and wildly beautiful. She shifts closer, linking our arms and holding my hand. She feels good against me, comfortable and safe out in the open.

“Thanks,” she says softly.

“You’re welcome.”

I stare at the landscape above, watching the vivid patterns of light play their tricks. I didn’t even realize at first when Claire fell fast asleep. She snores prettily, a soft whistling that’s endearing at the same time. I decide against waking her up and relish the touch of her hands. It’s a foreign feeling that I’m getting accustomed to, but it sure feels good.

“Good night, Claire,” I say and kiss her forehead softly.

I hate myself for making her cry earlier today, but a part of me says I did right. She’d understand me, if she ever tries to.

For now, it’s back to stargazing.

I breathe in, but all I get in my lungs is water. I drown further into the depths of darkness with an elephant sitting on my chest. It blows warm bubbles on my face, asking me to relax as I sink down to my own death.

I wake up with a start.

I open my eyes, but can’t see anything. I realize it’s hair – hair on my face, eyes, my ears and inside my nose. Carefully extracting the silky tendrils, I take note of my latest situation.

That elephant turns out to be Claire. She’s completely and hopelessly lying on top of me, making breathing very difficult as the seconds pass. She has one arm draped around my neck and another over my chest with her face buried in the crook of my neck. As sleep takes flight from my muddy thoughts, I start feeling other things pressed against me.

Like her boobs squashed flat against my chest. And her nipples poking me through the nightshirt.

Not to forget her amazingly soft, incredibly warm body lying on top of me.

Wait. No, no…NO!

Ah, fuck.

Now my cock is hard, trying its best to tear free of my boxer and pajama. I’m sure she can feel something hard poking her thighs.

A mental face-palm follows next as I wonder what excuse I could give. The sun has already broken above the horizon and she’ll be awake any minute. Very slowly, I turn to my side, planning to put down Claire and then try to slip out of her grasp.

“Mike, stop moving,” she mumbles with her eyes closed.

I freeze.

“I need to go,” I whisper.

“Where?” she whispers back.

Crap, I hadn’t expected follow-up to my excuse.

“Please stay,” she pleads softly, “I like it this way.”

“I have an…emergency to take care of.”

“This?” She reaches below and pats my boner gently, almost making me squeal in shock. “I understand, and I don’t mind.”

Did she just –

“Are you scared?” she asks.

I gulp. “No.”

“Then what’s this?” she asks, placing a hand on my chest where my heart is busy trying to beat its way out.

“I’m afraid of…disgusting you.”

“Hey,” she says and looks up at me, her eyes bright and clear, “you’ll never disgust me.”

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

“I had a great sleep, thank you,” she replies, stretching on top of me and rubbing oh-so-tenderly against my cock. I use the distraction to slip away, but she moves right along with me.

“Stay.” It’s a command.

“We have school.”

She giggles. “It’s Sunday, doofus.”

Didn’t see that coming.

She gets up and straddles me, placing her hands on my chest for support. Her raven hair, despite the tousled look, makes her look even more beautiful in this early dawn. The energy and happiness bubbling forth makes it clear that she’s not tired at all, unlike the previous day when she was ready to drop dead with exhaustion.

“I’ve thought about something you said last night.”

“Oh, what was it?” I ask. Half of my attention is on my groin where she was grinding against my cock absent-mindedly.

“That I just have to take a look around.”

“Okay…so what did you f-find?” I stammer as small jolts of pleasure shoot up from my groin.

“Something I was looking for,” she says, locking her eyes with mine, “and it was right in front of me all this time.”

She grinds her groin against mine again, this time in small circles. All illusion of her being unaware is out of the window. If she keeps it up, I’ll cum very hard in a matter of few seconds.

“Claire,” I begin shakily. “It’s…inappropriate.”

She laughs. “What is inappropriate?” A devilish glint creeps into her voice as she grinds harder.

I’m sure heaven is just a few strokes away.

“You grinding against me,” I say.

“Don’t you like it?”

“No,” I begin, but back peddle immediately at the raise of her eyebrow. I add hastily, “I mean yes, but this isn’t right.”

“How can something that feels so good be wrong?”

“Claire, stop. I’m going to –”

She shushes me with a finger on my lips. “Let me thank you.”

I feel my balls roiling. Me cumming in my pants seems imminent.

“Michael, is that you?” someone calls from my front porch.

It’s Aunt Sherry.

Shit.

Claire’s eyes widen in shock and she falls down flat on my chest immediately.

Our roof has no boundary walls, just a thin safety railing constructed to keep people from falling over. Someone standing at my porch a few moments ago could’ve seen the back of Claire’s head and, I pray, nothing else.

Claire’s initial shock is gone when she realizes that she wasn’t seen. An evil smile lights up her face and she grinds against me with renewed vigor.

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s me, a-aunt Sherry,” I reply, holding her tight against me and hoping to slow her down somehow.

“What are you doing up there?” she asks.

“I was just…” My head spins as my orgasm threatens to burst again. “…staaaar gazing.”

Claire sniggers quietly and kisses my cheek, but doesn’t stop the humping. I place my hands on her hips and roll over on top of her, effectively ending her control. I hold her hands above her head with mine, to stop her from maneuvering again. With our faces just millimeters apart, our hot breaths wash over each other.

It’s bizarre, yet intimate in a way I can never fathom.

“Are you okay?” my Aunt asks suspiciously.

“I’m good,” I reply loudly.

Claire looks up at me, disappointment clouding her face as she struggles against my hold. She pouts prettily, but it’s not going to work.

“You can always talk to me, Michael,” Aunt Sherry says understandingly. She thinks I’m trying to evade her.

“I know. You’re the best!”

“Do you want me to call the cleaners today?”

If only Aunt Sherry knew my situation, cleaners would be the last thing on her lips. Despite being held down, Claire nudges her hips. I press my groin tight against hers, stopping her from doing even that. Her eyes widen all of a sudden.

“No!” I yell.

“Do you need anything else?” my aunt asks again, blissfully unaware of the rooftop conundrum.

“No, I’ve got my hands full today,” I say, “I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. I was going out for a walk. Would you like to come with me?”

“I’m kinda busy here. How about tomorrow?”

A soft blush creeps up on Claire’s cheeks. She’s no longer struggling, and I feel as if she’s no longer having fun with this. I’m still clueless as to what happened.

“Okay,” my aunt says. “See you later, Michael.”

I count ten seconds before I turn towards Claire.

“What’s up with you?” I ask.

She has her eyes shut, her cheeks reddened and her lips sealed. This close, she looks very kissable.

“Claire?” I ask again, softly this time.

“Please get off me,” she says in a small voice.

Our hips are mashed together, only a thin barrier of silky cotton separating our sexes. I scramble backwards away from her as quickly as I can.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize, “I’m so sorry.”

She sits up, wrapping her arms around herself. Her eyes are downcast.

“It’s not your fault,” she says miserably. “I panicked.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” she says, a sad smile finding its way on her lips. “You just brought up some bad memories.”

I feel like a piece of filth.

“I’m sorry that I freaked you out like this,” she apologizes. “I should be the one saying this.”

I don’t know what to say. One minute she’s an out of control nymphomaniac, and a scared victim in the next.

“I won’t do that again,” I say and stand up.

“Are we good?”

“Yes, we are,” I say, “But I think we need to work somewhere else until the project is over. We can’t work like this.”

She nods. “I understand.”

I turn towards the sun, now beating mercilessly over us. The morning is crisp and clear, just like it used to be.

Just the way I like it.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

“C’mon,” I say, “Let’s go out.”

Joan’s Café is a Sunday treat.

I usually go alone. If the mood strikes my cousin, he accompanies me, but it’s mostly me. I order the usual coffee, bread along with the house’s special jams, and biscuits. Claire orders a latte with an extra shot of espresso.

The owner, Joan Maitland, knows me very well and reserves a seat by the window just for me. She has a sly smirk the entire the time she is taking orders from Claire and me.

“Anything else for your copine?” she asks with a smile.

I roll my eyes. “She’s my project partner, Joan.”

We’re served breakfast in three minutes, I dig into my food while Claire sips her coffee.

“Can I say something?” Claire asks.

“Sure.”

“I like to figure out people,” she says. “You know…studying them and trying to know their traits.”

I grin. “I knew it.”

“Am I that obvious?” she asks, slightly shocked.

“Sometimes, yes, when you’re too engrossed to care about being seen,” I say, grinning. “Anyway, go ahead.”

“I have figured out almost everyone except you.”

I laugh. “Should I be flattered?”

“You’re hiding something,” she says seriously, looking into my eyes, “something that you don’t want to talk about.”

Well, she got that one.

“That is a talk for another day,” I say, ending the discussion.

“I’ll figure you out before that,” she says with a smile.

Coming from her, it sounds more like a challenge.

I love a challenge.

“Good luck.”

~ A Farewell to the past ~

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I asked the question first.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

It’s nerve-wracking to have your career determined by grades, but it’s the sad truth. We’re sitting outside Miss Mahen’s room waiting to collect our sheets. Mike looks calm, as always, and doesn’t break a sweat.

“How can you be so relaxed?” I ask.

“Should I panic?” he asks, grinning.

“No,” I reply and go back to watching the door anxiously.

“We worked hard, so it shouldn’t be bad,” he says after some time.

He’s right. We worked hard. By mutual agreement, we decided it’d be best if we worked somewhere public. Things could’ve escalated in his house, in a way which we would’ve regretted later. Working in the library was in our best interests. It was hard not to talk about other…things, but somehow, I stayed focused throughout the ordeal. For five days, we talked about nothing but studies.

“Lehane, Michael,” the assistant calls out. “You may go inside.”

“Me?” he asks incredulously.

“Yes, you.” She adjusts her spectacles and goes back to reading her documents.

“Be confidant,” I encourage him as he stands up. He gives me a tight smile and goes to the door, waiting outside for a moment. He knocks twice and then goes inside.

I wish I had the ability to hear through closed walls. Panic creeps in when he doesn’t come out for fifteen minutes.

“Can I go inside?” I ask the assistant.

She fixes me with a stern glare.

“I think I’ll just wait here,” I say brightly.

After exactly one minute, he exits the door with a folder. He looks happy.

“What did we get?” I ask desperately.

He smiles. “We got a B minus.”

“What?” It feels as if someone dropped a ton of lead in the pit of my stomach.

“Isn’t it good?” he asks, surprised.

“But…but I thought we’d get at least an A.”

I feel like crying.

“She said it wasn’t that good, but was impressed by our efforts.”

I sit down heavily on my chair, wondering if I should screw myself to death. I hang my head, feeling the dawn of an impending headache. This came off much worse than I had thought.

The sound of sniggers makes me look up again. He has a huge smirk on his face.

“Gotcha,” he whispers.

“Huh?”

“We got an A plus,” he says happily, waving the folder in front of my face.

“Show it to me!” I snatch the folder out of his hands. Tearing its seal, I carefully extract the paper that holds the key to a lucrative scholarship. A letter comes out first.

It’s addressed to me.

Claire Bennet,

I’m impressed, especially at the subject that you chose to work upon. Having known Claudine Marie on a personal level, the in-depth detail of your biography, and discussion of her work, left me awed. Hardly any students have undertaken a project so ambitious in scale and managed to do it with finesse. You are truly an exception in the crowd.

Perhaps the highest grade available will motivate your academic endeavors to do more.

I wish all the best to you and your partner, Michael Lehane.

Signed,
Cate Mahen

Wow.

“So, this is it,” he says.

“What?” I’m too happy to even hear things right.

“This is where we say thank you to each other and part our ways.”

He couldn’t be saying that.

“I’ll go first,” he says and clears his throat. “Thank you, Claire, for sticking with me through thick and thin. I wasn’t expecting such a high grade but –”

I watch his lips move as he says something about me being such a nice person and that I will do very well in life. It feels as if the world is crashing down around me.

Mike hugs and smiles down at me. “It was a pleasure knowing you.”

I try to form words, but they don’t come out.

“Do you want to say something?” he asks.

“I…you’re nuts.”

“What?”

“You’re nuts!” I scream.

The assistant clears her throat. I look back, only to find him genuinely amused.

“Are you crazy?” I ask.

“Listen to me –”

“No, you listen to me!” I say, almost shouting, prompting the assistant to clear her throat again. “You said that everything –”

He silences me with a finger on my lips.

“Quiet,” he says, “I’m not done yet.”

He takes me outside the building. I think I have tears on my cheeks. I swear I haven’t cried so much since my first day in kindergarten.

“I want us to begin again,” he says. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. Can you do that?”

“Why?”

“I’m still pissed at you for that day. Nathan keeps asking why I’m being a pussy and apologizing to him all the time. I want to put that behind us. I want a fresh start. Do you understand?”

“Oh…”

He offers his hand. “Hi, I’m Michael Lehane.”

He smiles as I accept it shakily.

“I’m Claire Bennet.”

I barely stifle a sniff that follows.

“Why are you crying, Claire?”

“I thought you still hated me.”

“We’ve just met.” He grins. “How can I hate you without knowing you first?”

I wipe away my tears and meet his gaze. It’s kind, understanding and compassionate, just as I had thought it’d be.

“I’m sorry, Michael. I had dust in my eyes.”

“You’re lying.”

I smile. “Okay, I got emotional about…a thing from the past.”

He wipes my tears away, just like the first time a few days ago.