Levi wakes up at the sound of the book he's reading hitting the floor. Bolting upright, he is overwhelmed with excruciating pain. "AHHH! FUCK!!!" 'stupid couch...jesus, and I make her sleep on this! why couldn't she of replaced this, too?'
"Levi?" I call sleepily from the bedroom. 'shit. I woke her up...' "Go back to sleep Heather." I was already coming out of the bedroom, so his admonishment was useless.
"What's wrong?" "Nothing." "Bullshit, I heard you yell."
"This couch is a piece of shit." "Yes, I am aware. What's wrong?" "I can't move my neck. Or my stupid shoulders, for that matter."
"I can help with that..." I put my hands on his shoulders and he jumps, moving away. "What are you DOING?" I roll my eyes. "Just hold still Levi...it's only a massage." "Hea-ow...OW!"
"Quit squirming, of course it is going to hurt, your muscles feel like fricken tennis balls....it'll get better I promise." "What's a tennis ball?"
"Nevermind, just relax." Kneeling on the couch behind him, I put experimental pressure on his neck. He flinches. 'good grief, you are all sorts of jacked up', I think to myself getting to work. Using long, light stokes I start along the side of his neck and down over his shoulders. Most of his tenseness is self inflicted, it's
pretty obvious from the set of his shoulders. "Levi, relax...you've been taking care of me the whole time i've been sick...let me take care of you for a change..." I continue, and he seems to finally relax.
Making an involuntary humming noise, Levi closes his eyes. 'this actually feels pretty good...' Relaxing against me, he lets his head fall to my shoulder. Lulled by the rhythm of my hands, his thoughts drift.
("let me take care of you"....i would like that very much, Heather...."come here Levi"....opening his eyes he sees me standing in the doorway to the bedroom, beckoning...."Levi"....
coming to the bedroom, he picks me up and carries me to the bed...I'm on top of him now..."let me take care of you"...'what happened to my clothes?' he wonders illogically, it's HIS fantasy after all...I'm trailing kisses down his neck...his chest...his stomach...."Levi...")
"Levi?..Levi? Are you with me?" Opening his eyes with a start, he pulls away. I had been working on his upper chest and arms but stop. "Do you feel better?" "Yes...thank you." Embarrassed, he stands up. "Do you want the bed?"
"No, I'll be fine. Go back to sleep." "Are you sure?" "Heather...go...to sleep." Confused by his sudden change in mood, I shut the door leaving him to his thoughts. Flopping back onto the couch, he sighs feeling frustrated and miserable.
'does she do this shit on purpose? is she even fricken aware at all?' 'even my own thoughts are full of lies'... 'I would like that very much?...no!'... 'that's not what I want at all!..is it?!'
'it was because she put her hands on me, that's all it was'... 'it had nothing to do with anything else'... he sighs...'I didn't have to let her though, I could've said no or got up and moved but instead I let her put her hands on me instead I sat there and let her'....
'I enjoyed it'.... 'i don't have time for this shit in my life'.... 'god, how can anyone stand feeling like this, it's awful'
'Oh who am I kidding? This is exactly what I want.' Letting out a frustrated groan, he rolls over onto his stomach and silently begs for sleep.
Levi's Journal: Here I am still trying to make excuses for my behavior, my thoughts, my actions. Everything's her fault, at least that's what I keep on saying but I know damn well it's not. And that fucking little fantasy that was playing in my stupid head....
inspired by her of course, but it WAS my thoughts and yet I sit here trying to find excuses, and act like I'm just a passenger when I'm the one driving this carriage. I ask myself why was I thinking these things...like I don't already know the answer. Maybe I'm trying to find a way to logic out of this mess, but there's nothing logical about
how I feel at ALL. I WANT HER! There! I said it!
Not that it fucking matters.....
Heather's journal: Impulsive Heather strikes again. I don't know what I was thinking, except that I felt so bad for the poor guy. He was in soo much pain! I get it, that couch of his is like a medieval torture device!! So I gave him a massage, and I'd like to think no big deal right?
Apparently wrong. He seemed so mad all of a sudden and I don't understand why. I can't begin to imagine what I could of possibly done wrong...maybe next time I should just put the pillow over my ears and ignore him? But that's so mean!!
And I did want to make up for him having to do practically everything for my sick ass lately.....what was going on in that complicated brain of his that made him decide 15 minutes later that Heather did something wrong and deserves to be yelled at????