Chapter 16: Chapter 16: My Favorite Day VI.

"Of course — just let me remember where we left off," I touched my heart. "And what I was feeling. In the third and final part of the date, when we went to his place," I smiled. "And grew closer."

Chapter 16: My Favorite Day VI

Nolan’s house was four blocks from the library.

We walked without saying anything, hands intertwined and the flowerpot tucked under his arm. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable — it was just the typical emotional transition between an excited couple.

But inside me there was no silence, only the sharp cries of the most sincere emotion.

Inside me were two years of waiting, all moving at the same time — like when you open a dam and the water doesn’t know which way to flow.

It’s hard to admit, but in that moment I couldn’t even control my breathing, and that irregularity made me even happier. I don’t know why, but it did.

Just by being at his side, I experienced what it means to be alive. That’s why I can’t let him go — because without him, I am nothing.

He took the door handle, opening it with that classic creak of old doors. "It’s been a while since I last brought you home," he noted, stepping inside. "Only on movie Sundays with nachos and soda."

"And lots of candy," I answered, following him with my head down.

When we went in, he closed the door almost without a sound. The clink made my shoulders tremble, while he drew closer step by step.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking me in the eyes while I got lost in his emerald gaze. "I don’t want to pressure you into anything."

I looked around the house, searching for an anchor to reality. An armchair in front of the television, where we had spent nights curled up watching nonsense until falling asleep. I saw his staircase — the one I had never gone up, since he was always downstairs for me.

But what proved to me most that this was real was his owl clock — one that had frightened me the first time, with its HooHoo every hour.

On its little feet it showed the time: 12:37.

I brought my gaze back to Nolan, who waited for my answer. I smiled, placing a hand on his chest. "Y-y-yes, I’m sure."

He returned the gesture, stepping forward until his scent was impossible to ignore. His hands — large and strong — held mine for a brief moment, before letting go and guiding them to my sweater.

My body trembled — a normal effect, but one that caught his attention. "Are you sure? We can stop whenever you want."

"C-continue," I said, watching his eyes, which still insisted for more.

His hands found my back — the cold of his touch activated something inside me, something I had been containing beneath layers of white.

Three years since I had known him, denying myself from feeling this. Two years being exactly what I needed to be — controlling every reaction, every temperature, every distance. Two years as the display figurine.

And now I wanted my owner to play with me.

He was touching me; my body didn’t know how to respond with the same elegance with which it responded to everything else.

His hand on my back was manageable. But the one sliding along my waist to my stomach — not entirely.

He brought his face close to mine, giving me a kiss that drew a small sound from my nose, while at the same time withdrawing his hand from my sweater.

"You were expecting this, weren’t you?" he asked, placing his hand on the back of my neck. "You’re not even wearing your camisole — that’s not a coincidence." With his hand he drew me closer and began at my neck, with the same lips that had just claimed mine. "You don’t know how much I had wanted this," he said. "From the first day I saw you, your sweater always called to me — it always led me toward this."

"N-N-Nolan," I managed to say. "W-w-what do you mean?"

"It always slipped off at the most inopportune moments. I tried to be strong and resist, because I love and respect you," he lowered himself slowly. "Thank you — with you I’ll make up for all my needs."

A drop of sweat slid down my temple to my chin and fell like a sphere, landing on his cheek. In that moment he stopped, listening to my breathing, my broken moans, my hesitant eyes.

"I’m sorry," he said, lowering his head. "I’m sorry, Ryne. I didn’t want to hurt you like this," he repeated, taking a step back while lifting his hands from my body. "That’s why I had asked you to wear a shirt. To control myself." He let out a small cry. "I know I’m weak and that’s why I tried to protect you from me."

I watched him: how he hesitated, how he pulled away, how he left me. "Nolan," I said, grabbing his hand, placing it around my neck. "Don’t be afraid — I’m not a girl, you can do whatever you want with me, even break me to your liking." I pressed his fingers against my thin neck. "Play with me — I want it rough too."

He looked at me while I leaned in to kiss him. He smiled, beginning to squeeze my neck, while his hand began to slide down my stomach to my skirt.

It arrived, touching carefully at first, gradually increasing the tingling. And just like a dam under pressure, the smallest crack is enough to break it.

I don’t know exactly at what moment my knees decided the floor was a better option than staying upright. I only knew I was there — back against the wall, breathing completely out of control, exhausted in a way that had no logical sense.

I touched my skirt and the floor — I was completely drenched, but I couldn’t find a single fragment, not one shard of the moment.

"What happened," I said, trying to get up, but the tingling between my legs stopped me with a spiteful force. "I can’t," I murmured, feeling the tears on my eyelids.

I looked up. Nolan was standing, looking down at me from above, with eyes so shadowed I didn’t recognize them. Employee, friend, girlfriend — and none of those antecedents explained those eyes.

His disappointment.

I looked at the owl clock again — it read 12:39. "Two minutes..." I murmured, feeling my throat break with every syllable.

Nineteen years old. Three years of waiting. And two minutes was all my body endured before giving in.

"Ryne," he said, shifting his expression to one of concern. "Are you alright?"

I didn’t answer right away. I was looking at my hands, my body, the wet floor. To him I’m a disappointment as the twenty-two-year-old woman I pretend to be.

Nineteen years of age, thirty in mentality and sixteen in body.

I had failed as a woman, but I didn’t want to accept it.

I’M NOT A GIRL...

"But I was protected like one..." I whispered, feeling how my stomach ached — that sensation that appears when I’m useless.

Not in the way I feel when I break a cup or miscalculate a ratio. But in a deeper way, more humiliating — like being a marker with no ink.

"I’m ridiculous," I whispered, more to myself than to him, remembering the two hours he had enjoyed with Dilein the day before. Thinking about how competent and complete she was. "I’m ridiculous, I’m ridiculous."

I kept repeating, thinking about the incredible shape of her body — trained and complete. Comparing it with mine — thin and useless, incapable of pleasing the man I love.

"You’re not," said Nolan, sitting down beside me against the same wall.

"Yes I am," I insisted, covering my face with my knees. "You didn’t even take off your pants. I wasn’t able to give you pleasure — I’m pathetic as a woman."

"Don’t say that, Ryne," he placed his hand on my arm; I pulled away by reflex.

"Don’t touch me!" I cried. "Leave... I don’t want you to see me like this — I don’t deserve to be by your side for even one more second."

He didn’t respond. He just stayed sitting beside me, without moving or speaking.

"You’re impossible," I continued, grateful for how stubborn he could be. "Nolan. I’m not someone who cares about pleasure. I’ve never sought it, but right now I feel like a dried-out marker."

"Ryne..."

"Don’t tell me it’s okay," I interrupted. "Because it’s not okay. I wanted to be someone else tonight. I wanted to stop being a girl in your eyes — to be more purple." I looked at my hand — small, thin, delicate. "But not even my body supports that idea."

"That’s not your fault," he said finally.

I didn’t respond — I just kept my head down.

Nolan took my hand.

He held it carefully, with warm hands, saying nothing — letting the silence do what words couldn’t.

And I stayed there remembering that small plant, comparing its situation with mine. With the difference that no one was going to come and water me.

"It was a lovely anniversary," said Nolan, resting his head against mine. "We’re still young and have a whole life ahead," he smiled. "We don’t have to rush things — we can do it little by little, or wait until marriage, the way we had planned."

I looked at him, his eyes shining in the only light filtering through a window. "Do you mean that? You don’t hate me?"

"I could never hate you," he answered, radiating me with those same eyes that had caused all of this. "Yours are always so sincere. Right now I can see how excited you are."

I smiled, looking at his beautiful profile. "Can I kiss you again?"

"You don’t have to ask," he answered. "Now you can have them whenever you want."

He gave me the last kiss of the day before getting up. "You can put your clothes in the washing machine and shower," he had told me, picking up his jacket. "I’ll go get something to eat — we can still watch a movie, besides, I’m starving."

"Alright, Nolan," I answered, watching him leave. "Get me a cucumber salad — no chicken!"

In that moment I was left alone, with only the ticking of the clock. HooHoo I heard, before getting up.

"Feeling useless in the moment you most want to be capable," I told Dr. Roy, with my eyes on the office ceiling. "It’s a very specific pain," I sighed. "I don’t know if you’ve felt it too, but it feels worse than a bucket of cold water."

She nodded at my words. "Ryne..."

Knock knock knock.

The door interrupted her. "Come in," said the doctor.

It was Elena, who upon seeing me blushed again. "Oh, R-Ryne, you’re still here."

"What’s the matter, sweetheart? Do you need something?"

"I-I wanted to ask your permission to go to the park with my boyfriend," she managed to say. "It’s just that there are only ten minutes left and I didn’t know if you were busy to take me."

"I’m sorry, sweetheart — I’m with Miss Moore right now; I’m not sure you can go alone."

I smiled. "Don’t worry, Hirise," I got up. "We can continue tomorrow — I want to enjoy my anniversary anyway." I passed by Elena, who stirred slightly, but that didn’t stop me from wrapping my arms around her. "Enjoy your date, dear — remember what we talked about."

And with those words I left the office, feeling two hearts beating in my direction.