Legs closed. Easy enough. But I have to keep an open mind and an open heart, and that's so not easy, not even a tiny bit.
13
Adir
It’s been two days. I haven’t been able to bring myself to go to her floor, but I can’t take it anymore. Somehow or another, I have to see her. I need to prove to her that my love for her is real. We need to talk. If she would just listen to me, maybe she can see that I was confused. I was a right ovian bastard, and her anger is justified. If she hates me… I need to know.
I march down the hall to her door, and I knock three times.
No answer.
I’m ready to knock again when the door opens. All I catch is a flash of her dark eyes before the door slams shut in my face.
“Callie?” I call through the door. “Please. I know you’re upset. I thought… I wanted to give you space, but I… It’s not fair, and I know I can’t ask anything of you, but… I just want to talk to you. Please.”
She says nothing.
“We can talk out in the hall,” I say desperately, my voice rising. Can she hear me through the door? I know I’ve been able to hear moans through the doors at times.
The door remains shut, as do her lips.
“Callie, please. Let me prove my love.” I hesitate. I can’t believe I just confessed that I love her. The word just came out.
But even more unbelievable is the fact that I do love her. I truly do. Which is why this is all the more heartbreaking.
“Callie, I made a—”
“I don’t care,” she says, her voice muffled through the door. “Adir, you need to go be a guard.”
“I am—”
“Elsewhere.”
Rejected, with no one to blame but myself, I hang my head, and I continue on my way even though there are plenty of backward glances over my shoulder.
She doesn’t want to see me, clearly. She probably doesn’t want to hear from me at all. What if I wrote her a letter? Wrote down everything I feel for her? I could tell her everything that happened and explain everything I did. Callie might not want to know the details, but her imagination might be worse than the truth, although the truth isn’t that pretty.
But I want to do something to show her how much she means to me. She does. These past two days have shown that to me. I don't even see the other ladies, although I do help them. I'm being a perfect guard to them, through and through, but they're just bodies. They're just a part of my job, and that might not be much better because they are human, and they deserve respect, but Callie. I can't get her out of my mind. Everything I do, I do distracted because she's in my thoughts. When I inhale, I try to see if I can smell her, and I always scan the hallway to see if I can catch a glimpse of her.
As for my urges, they’re gone. I almost think I am willing to go the rest of my life without ejaculating again if it can’t be with her in some form, and I don’t mean by my thinking about her as I flamindulis. No, not enough. That can never replace what we had.
What I had with her.
How the ovian did I think I could just fuck another woman and get her out of my head? Why would I want to be free of her?
Callie is life. She’s my life.
And I might have severed our bond forever.
And for what? A cheap thrill. So my cock could have a little attention.
I hate myself. I’m a real ovian bastard, and I don’t deserve happiness.
But now that I understand the true depth of my feelings for her, I'm not ready too let her go, not without a fight. When the bell rings for dinner, I wait until the ladies file to the stairwell before following them.
It doesn’t take me long to spy Callie. She’s sitting in a corner all by herself. Before I can think about whether or not this is a good idea, I march up to Callie and clear my throat. “Do you mind if I sit with you? I thought I might grab—”
“You aren’t grabbing anything of mine,” she says.
“Callie, please.”
“Don’t. Adir, please.”
I flinch. Is she mocking me?
“If you want to sit here and eat, go ahead. Be my guest,” she says as she stands. “But I’ve lost my appetite.”
And she walks away.
I gape at her retreating backside. My heart is screaming at me to say something, but my mind is questioning whether or not that is wise. It doesn’t matter, though, because my tongue feels so very heavy, and I don’t know if I could even talk at this point.
Callie’s growing to hate me.
For a period, I wanted that. I wanted to push her away. Now that it’s happening, I hate this so much that I feel as if I’m fracturing. My heart is breaking. This pain is unspeakable.
How? How did Callie get to be so strong? Is it because of me? Because of the pain she suffered because of me?
I don’t know, but I do like the idea of her being stronger. Everything about her is as close to perfect as can be.
Well, almost everything. She can’t find it in her to forgive me, and maybe that’s just because what I did was unforgivable.
Ovian. I hate my life, but that’s no one else’s fault but my own.
14
Callie
It’s been hard. When I first wake up in the morning, I’m strong. I can usually make it until about lunchtime before
