Siblings and Lovers Ch. 05

Returning to this storyline after a while. I left it mainly due to my editor backing out due to real world work and commitments.

"External scars eventually heal. Our inner scars, though, don't let us forget them."- Calanthe

---

"I'm sorry, but I will not be able to come home tonight."

"Again? This is the fourth time this week. You're working way too hard." said Dana over the phone, clearly exasperated.

"I am so sorry Dana, but there is such a huge amount of work to be done here that I have to stay."

"Is your boss living up to her reputation as a bitch? Is that why you are tied up at the office?"

"No no no. She is very approachable. In fact, if I tell her right now, she will let me go home. I can't do that and leave her with this much work to do."

Kyle was in a dilemma. On one hand, he yearned to go home to Dana's comforting arms and on the other hand, there was so much work to be done. Stella had personally taken up the decoration job for the Mayor's ball. She was putting in night after night to make that event better than the previous year (also done by her). She had gone so far out of her way to make him feel comfortable that it was impossible to ask for more.

"I'll talk to you later, Dana."

These fancy New York parties required months of pre planning. Just the ambience had been conceptualized by the team of designers for several months. For Kyle, this was a massive leap. He had never handled something of this scale in his previous job. Enthusiastically, he threw himself at it. Stella loved his endeavour and began to value and respect his professional opinion. She still seemed to be in the afterglow of his heroic act.

He had just put the phone down, when Stella walked in from her adjacent cubicle.

"You seem to be working hard."

"Speak for yourself, Stella. I can barely see you behind that stack of designs."

"You can go home if you want. You've done enough this week."

Kyle thought about it.

"What would you say if one of the other designers asked to go home?"

She considered it briefly before saying, "I would say- go home and stay there."

"Exactly my point. Treat me the same way you would treat them."

"But I don't want to. You are such a special person. Moreover, you are the only one on my wavelength here. I made the right choice by picking you as my personal assistant designer."

"Thank you for that. Now if you will excuse me, I have to get back to deciding what would look good on the walls."

"The atmosphere here is too stifling. How about we continue this work from my private studio?"

"That's in your house, right?"

"Yeah," she said curiously.

Kyle took a deep breath and started. "So essentially you want me to go back to your place."

She gave him her most charming smile.

"I suppose so, yes. But you will still be working."

He studied her expression for a few seconds.

"All right then. Let's go."

Stella smiled inwardly. This was going to be the closest thing to a date she ever had. They drove to her place on Madison Avenue. She had bought an old building, formerly a small apartment complex and renovated it completely to her liking. This was her personal sanctuary. For the first time in her life, someone else would enter this sacred ground.

Stepping inside, Kyle gasped. Stella Rousseau was one of the world's best interior designers but her house was something else entirely. Every room was decorated in a surreal fashion. Everything from the walls to the furnishing was beautiful and unique in its own way. She lived alone and had a maid come from time to time. From what he could see, she ate very little and that too at exotic events.

Kyle followed her up the stairs. The walls were intricately inlaid with a plethora of complex designs. She had thrown her most creative impulses into this place. The first floor seemed even grander with motifs of various scenes delicately inlaid into the walls and ceiling. He went into her private studio and took a pile of design plans and started working.

She worked quietly beside him, stealing the occasional glance. He was a picture of concentration as he went about his work. After a couple of hours, she put the plans aside.

"Alright. Enough work for today. We can finish the rest later."

"I guess I should get going now."

"No. Don't go, please. It's the first time I have someone here I can talk to."

Kyle sensed the loneliness in her voice. He had known for some time what lay beneath the wraps of this office martinet. She was just like everybody else he knew- flawed. Only, she was too proud to admit it, even to herself.

He was broken out of his thoughts when she returned with a large bottle of red wine and two glasses. The ambience was perfect, the lights were dim- he could have made the first move right there, but he had other plans with her.

"How often do you do it?"

Stella looked up in surprise.

"How often do I do what?"

Kyle moved closer to her and gently held her sides. His face bore that trademark smile that inspired so much warmth and confidence.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. Believe me, I understand. What you go through every day- the stress, the deadlines, the interactions. I do not judge you or think less of you for it."

She stared at him for a few long moments before she realized. She looked down trying to hide her face in shame.

"How did you know?" she said, without even looking up.

"You wear full sleeves all the time. It's not that tough to figure out why.

"And yet you are the only one who noticed."

"I see you at work every day," Kyle started. "The amount of stress you go through is unbelievable. Add to that the inherent pressure of trying to prove yourself in a corporate environment filled with sexist clichés and the pressure exceeds the tipping point. No one else notices because they are too afraid of you to look any closer. To them, you are a drill sergeant in a suit. I looked closer and I saw the you that hides inside- scared and insecure."

She still could not make eye contact. Kyle sensed her embarrassment and gently asked.

"So answer me, Stella. How often do you cut yourself?"

"Two to three times a week," she said, her voice quivering.

Tears were beginning to form in the corners of her eyes.

"I can't stop. I tried, but I can't stop."

Stella was visibly crying now. Kyle embraced her close to his chest.

"Shh.. don't cry."

Pulling her away, he reached up to gently wipe her tears.

"You must think I'm pathetic. I need to cut my arm to feel good about myself."

"Not at all. It does not make you pathetic, it makes you human. We all have our own flaws and our own scars."

"You don't. Just look at yourself, so perfect in every way."

He thought for a brief instant before standing up.

"Let me show you my scars."

Turning around, he unbuttoned his shirt. She let out an audible gasp when he let his shirt fall to the floor.

Kyle's back was covered with surgical scars. They were in different stages of healing. Some were still raw and others had a dark line of skin over them. These scars crisscrossed all over the length and breadth of his back and the back of his thighs. The shrapnel had quite literally ripped his back to shreds.

"As I said, we all have our scars. Some of us just hide them better."

She just gaped on in wonder.

"Go ahead, touch them."

She stood up and tentatively prodded a scar near his shoulder. He flinched a bit, but stayed relatively still. Her fingertip traced a long scar all the way from the back of his neck down to his waist.

"How? Why?"

"In Afghanistan. RPG shell blew up a few feet away from me."

"I don't understand. Your scars are from fighting for your country. Mine are just pathetic little signs of cowardice."

"Mine aren't as glorious as you made them out to be."

He sat down beside her. She looked at him curiously and waited for an answer.

"Around eight months ago, I saw my world disintegrate in front of my eyes, literally. My parents were in the North Tower on 9/11. I watched on from my window as the two towers came crashing down. Along with them, the carefully constructed cocoon I built to shield myself from reality disappeared."

"I am so sorry......"

"That day left an empty place in my heart," he went on. "I desperately searched for answers. I never got them. I thought I could get over their loss only if I felt I was doing something about it, so I enlisted. It was the most stupid decision of my life."

"What?"

"I made friends with a fellow Marine, Lewis Howe. We met during training at Fort Totten and became good friends. There was this one day; we were manning a supply route just outside Kandahar. We were in adjacent jeeps escorting the convoy through a treacherous pass. It was tough as the militants would show up when you least expected them and open fire. We had made it to relative safety, when it happened."

Kyle paused for a moment, dredging out this painful memory from the innermost caverns of his mind. There was the hint of moisture in his eyes when he resumed.

"Suddenly an RPG came out of nowhere straight at my jeep. I swerved in the nick of time, but the jeep behind me stood no chance. I still remember the sickening explosion. Rushing out, I saw pieces of Lewis everywhere."

Stella was listening in rapt attention, her eyes glistening as he went on.

"I looked in the direction of the attack and saw a dilapidated house. There was a bearded man on top clutching the RPG tube and dancing. I can't explain it, but suddenly I was overwhelmed by this all-consuming rage. My world went dark and all I could see was him with the tube."

Her eyes went wide as he continued.

"I ran into the house and ran up a flight of stairs before coming face to face with him. He had this look of manic joy. I didn't even take out my gun as I simply jumped on him. He tried fighting back, but I took the tube from his hand and hit him hard enough on the head for his skull to cave in. Looking up, I saw two kids, hardly five, clutching each other tightly. That was when the grim reality of what I had done hit me- I had beaten a man to death while his kids watched."

His tone was becoming more strained as he went on.

"Since that day, I have recalled the look on their faces so many times. I have tried rationalizing it as a reality of war and as a necessary revenge but it will not change the fact that I put two children through what I experienced on the day I saw my parents die in front of me."

She finally looked up at him, processing what he said. Unable to restrain herself any longer she kissed a scar on his back. He shuddered as she gently ran her lips up the length of the injury. After a while, he turned around and cupped her chin and made her look up into his eyes.

"Your turn. Show me your scars."

Stella was reluctant. She got up and moved to the end of the room. Kyle sensed her trepidation and stood by her side.

"It's alright. Nothing to be ashamed of. The only way you can move on from these scars is to accept them."

She turned away, ashamed. He embraced her tightly. "It's okay. I still respect you. Now roll up your sleeves."

Unable to make eye contact, she took a deep breath and slowly rolled up her sleeves to the elbow. Underneath, her flawless white skin was marred by multiple cuts and marks. Some were less than an inch long. The ones near to her elbow were much longer. She had been doing this for a long time.

"Are you happy now?" she said, visibly distraught. "You have seen me for exactly what I am- a cutter."

"I think you're beautiful. Give me that arm."

Tentatively, she held out her arm as Kyle kissed it. Her sobbing was becoming more and more copious as he gently held on.

"Come with me, please."

Kyle followed her to the top floor. She opened the doors to her bedroom and led them inside. He gasped at what he saw.

On the wall was an artistic masterpiece. It was a large portrait inlaid in mosaic and feldspar. The phosphorescence from the feldspar gave the dark room an eerie, almost surreal glow. The portrait itself was intricately designed and the detail was magnificent.

"Is that me?"

It was Kyle's photo from the subway. Every minute detail had been encapsulated perfectly. The mural lit up much of the room.

"Wow.. that's nice."

She turned to him and asked, "You think so? I made it myself."

"I think it's the third most beautiful thing in the room."

She looked at him with a look of loving confusion.

"Third?"

"You are the second most beautiful thing in this room and the first is...."

Stella craned her neck over to listen as Kyle leaned over to gently whisper it into her ear.

"....your scars."

The sheer emotion of the moment overwhelmed her as she grabbed his shoulders and pushed him on the bed. Gently, delicately she took off his clothes one by one. He passively lay there as she finished undressing him. Taking a step back, she admired his naked form on her bed.

Kyle knew this was wrong. Having sex with his boss never looked like a good idea, but he had broken bigger taboos already. Just like Dana, Stella wanted him not out of raw lust, but a deep and profound sense of love.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. You looked behind the façade at the ugliness of my core and never turned away."

"Do you know what I saw behind the curtain? A vulnerable core. The heart of someone who has tried so hard to succeed that she buried all their humanity and affection. I am the first person you let in. Right?"

She nodded gently. Before he could speak again, she started shedding her clothes. The pale glow of the moonlight coupled with the glow from the mural was the perfect backdrop for her gorgeous naked form. Kyle gaped in awe as he saw more of it. Apart from her arms, every part of her body was smooth and flawless.

She was a sight to behold in her underwear, letting him drink it in for a few minutes. He smiled as she reached behind to take off her bra. Soon, her gorgeous breasts were exposed. They were perfectly round and firm with pale aureolas and beautiful pink nipples which stood out.

Soon, her panties came off and her pussy was visible. It was a beautiful shade of pink and he saw her luscious vulva peeking out from under her folds.

"Like it? I shaved just for you."

"You had this planned all along? To get me in bed."

"I was going to keep my top on, to cover my arms, but essentially yes. I have wanted you so badly since that day when you saved my life. It sounds so silly, but I built up a fantasy of what you would be like, what you would say. You were my first imaginary friend."

"Did I live up to your fantasy?"

"You are so much more than I could ever imagine. Thank you for coming into my life."

With this, she knelt down and kissed him deeply. Their tongues interlocked and played with each other as her hands roamed all over his body. There was no rush, no haste as their arms explored tantalizing parts of each other's bodies. Their movements were in complete harmony.

Kyle disengaged from the kiss and let his lips roam to her neck. He spent some time on her neck, kissing and nibbling at it as her arousal built. He moved to her luscious breasts and gently kissed the firm flesh. She gasped with pleasure as he concentrated his efforts on her aureola and then held her nipple between his teeth. Her moans resonated around the room as he continued his tender ministrations on her.

Moving even lower he reached her labia. Holding them apart with his hands, he gently prodded her inner lips with his tongue. This caused a wave of arousal to sweep over her body and she clamped down on his face with her thighs. He continued slurping away at her clit until she reached down and grabbed his hair. Then, she gently pulled him on top of her.

She gazed at his face expectantly, waiting for him to enter her. Kyle was in deep thought. Would this act mean cheating on Dana? What exactly did he have with Dana? Stella lost her patience and grabbed his waist and forced him down into her wet pussy.

Resigned to the fact that he would have to go through with it, he started a gentle to and fro motion. The constant nagging thought remained at the back of his mind though- was he cheating?

Soon she climaxed hard. Kissing him gently on the cheek, she started getting dressed.

"Do you have any family left?"

Kyle looked at her in surprise. Had she guessed the cause of his reluctance?

"My sister, Dana. We have always been close, but ever since Mom and Dad passed away, we are all that we have. She could not bear to stay away from me."

"Where is she right now?"

"In my apartment, waiting for me to return."

"Then go home. That's an order."

He turned away and started to get dressed.

"And Kyle........... can you help me stop? I really want to be able to wear short sleeves someday."

He looked back at her smiling. "Each time you feel the urge, call me up."

She walked up to him and held him in a tight embrace. He held her gently.

"Thank you Kyle, for everything. You are a very special human being."

It was close to midnight when Kyle's car drew up beside the apartment building. Softly he made his way into his room, afraid to wake Dana. He went to the bedroom to find it empty. Puzzled, he looked around to find her. Finally, he saw her sitting on the balcony ledge, gazing emptily at the brilliantly lit metropolis. He went over and sat beside her.

"Tough day at work, huh?" she asked wistfully, still staring at the horizon.

"The Mayor's ball is a pretty big deal for the firm, more so for Stella."

"I thought she would be ingratiated to you for saving her life and go easy on you."

"She is easy on me," Kyle said. "Everybody else at the firm shakes in fear when they see her. To me however, she is less of a boss and more of a friend. You won't believe how far out of her way she goes for me."

"Why are you suddenly singing her praises?" Dana said and turned to face him. She curiously studied the expression on her brother's face for some time. Abruptly, her face cracked up in a wicked smile.

"You slept with her. Didn't you?"

"WHAT!" Kyle said, desperate to cover it up. "She is my boss. I would never......"

"Don't lie to me. I know that face. Have you forgotten that I can read you like a book?"

There was no use hiding anything from her. Heaving a sigh of resignation, he sheepishly admitted, "Yeah. Just now."

"Well...."

"Well what?"

"How was it?"

He immediately flushed deep red with embarrassment.

"Dana!"

"Oh come on, you've never hidden something from me before. Tell me, how was it?"

"It was," Kyle started, trying to form appropriate words, "good."

"Good. That's it?!"

"Dana, I am not that comfortable having this conversation with you. Could we please change the topic?"

"Your wish."

He stared outside in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, unsure of how to ask the one burning question in his mind.

"You can tell me."

He turned towards her in surprise.

"Look at how fidgety you are. You are clearly nervous. You haven't looked me in the eye since you came back, so you are ashamed of something and want to ask me whether something you did was alright. I think I have a pretty good idea what."

Kyle gave a wry smile. The Walsh siblings knew each other to the point that they could not hide anything.

"So, what do you want to know?"

He took some time to organize all his thoughts before starting.

"Do you want this for me? Look, I will always be there for you as a brother; no one can take that away. But, I really do not want to cheat on one of you with the other. Just say the word, and I will end things with Stella right now."

Dana lowered her arm and patted her shoulder. Kyle gently rested his head on it as they kept staring at the city below them.

"I am so happy for you. You have someone else who feels this way about you."