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Chapter Three: Wrapping Temptations With A Ribbon [Jan. 23rd, 2012|11:05 am]
For Lovers Of Jimmy Page

We had been driving for fifteen minutes and not a word was uttered between us. I was still woozy and disoriented from the alcohol, watching reality pass by me through foggy vision. I had enjoyed their gig, meeting these fantastic people and laughing harder than I could remember; but as soon as we stepped out of the club and into his blue convertible I felt anxious again. What was I getting myself into? Now that I was alone with him I was more confused than ever—about myself, about this situation, about his intentions. I snuck a glance at his face as he drove; he was looking straight ahead with a sweet grin on his face. My glance turned into a stare, and when he turned to look at me I couldn’t look away fast enough.

“So, tell me what you really think of our music.” He said, finally breaking the excruciating silence.

“It’s strange. I’ve never heard anything like it. But it was quite amazing, to be honest.” I said. My thoughts and speech were becoming clear again. “Where does it all come from? How do you come up with that kind of….art?” I asked.

“It comes from a part of ourselves that even we don’t fully understand. I like to try and capture my sentiments and release them through music. I try new things and find new ways of expressing myself, and it comes as intuition.” He answered.

As I listened to him with the wind blowing softly on my face, I started to feel comfortable—like I was where I was supposed to be.

“Did you write all of those songs?” I asked

“Some of them are actually covers. I took some tunes that inspired me, and turned them into my own, interpreting them and adding dynamics. Light and shade, as how it is in visual art.” He said. I was completely drawn to him and his musical poetics. Here was an artist, a true visionary in the flesh, I thought. I had only read about such people, and now I was going home with one.

“You have a lovely accent” was what came out of my mouth, when it was supposed to be tucked away hidden in my thoughts. I quickly turned away from him and watched the road ahead, wanting to slap the alcohol out of me.

“Why thank you,” he chuckled “I don’t think anyone’s ever paid me that kind of compliment before.” He shot a dazzling smile at me that caused me to blush, and I decided to keep my mouth shut for now.

I was starting to feel chilly, and so I hugged myself tighter to try and keep warm.

“Oh are you cold?” He asked, placing his hand on my arm. Every part of me was indeed freezing, except for where his hand was, which felt almost too warm to bear. “We’re nearly there, I’ll get you warm and cozy soon” he continued.

A soft “Thanks” was all I could manage to say as he put his hand back on the steering wheel.

Our surroundings had become more desolate and remote, and anticipation was washing over me. What was going to happen tonight? Would I end up doing something I might regret? Would he try and seduce me? Because if I’m to be completely honest with myself, I was hoping he would. Why else would I be here if I didn’t?    

Soon we were pulling in to his driveway, facing a beautiful manor surrounded by luscious bushes. We came to a stop and he got out to open my door, offering his hand like a true gentleman. I stepped outside to breathe in the sweet smelling air, looking up and around, while he watched my awe-stricken face. I had almost forgotten I was cold when suddenly I let out a small shiver. With his hand on my back he lead me inside hastily, and I was bubbling with excitement and my nerves were frantically jumping, thankfully masked by the excuse of being cold.

He led me through a hallway and into a guest bedroom, fully equipped with a record player and unlit candles. He switched on a dim light before saying “Here you are. Go on and make yourself comfortable.”

“This is really nice” I said, walking ahead and looking around, almost tripping on myself. I held on to the side of the bed to remove my boots, while I heard him move about the room behind me. After half a minute of struggling with just the first boot, he laughed before kneeling by my ankles and helping me out of it. As he stood back up, his hand grazed the back of my leg and my thigh, feeling like a soft caress. I froze. Was this an accident? Was it on purpose? It was probably an accident—oh who am I kidding the man is about to—my thoughts were cut off when a thick cloth landed on my shoulders, blanketing my freezing self.

“This should keep you warm tonight” he said, as he moved to face me.

He had covered me with a robe. A nice, thick woolen robe that indeed kept me warm instantly. I felt relief, then annoyance, then confusion. I slipped my arms into the holes as he wrapped the robe snugly around me. Inches from my face, I had nowhere to look at but him. He returned my gaze with a serious expression, the first I had ever seen on him. He looked down at his hands as they tied and fastened the cord, then looked back at me. Who knew putting clothes on someone could be so—sexy? His eyes would dart back and forth from my eyes to my body as he fixed me up, ribboning me shut. Though I was very much covered I suddenly felt self-conscious. In those few seconds I tried to understand his look, as if somewhere inside there he was in pain, as if he was contemplating something. Or perhaps that was my own face, hinting at my own urges and desires.

Just as I was about to make a decision, he turned away and said: “Well we better get some rest. Big day tomorrow.” With his body now facing away, he looked me over one more time, at my face then at the body he had just tucked away safely. His big friendly smile came back and all I could do was nod, my eyes bugging from—whatever the hell just happened.

As he walked towards the door, I watched after him bewildered. He turned back to me and sighed, before smiling and saying “Well, goodnight. See you in the morning.” And with that he shut the door, leaving me in my shock, alarmingly frustrated.

I tried to get some shut-eye but it took some time. I kept hoping and expecting him to come back, for any reason he might have. I’d drift off into being half-asleep, blurring my dreams with reality: in one world he came back into the room, slipped under the sheets in my bed and doing unholy things to me; then I’d snap back to the real world to find that I had imagined it, silence still prevailing in the corridors. All this time my head still swirling with the alcohol in it. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally fell into my drunken slumber.  


[User Picture]From: imagine_peace
2012-01-27 07:11 am (UTC)
Nice use of anticipation! I'm glad Jimmy was a gentleman.. this time. ;)
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