5 comments/ 45036 views/ 9 favorites An Aperture Apart By: ohmanon A special thanks to editor JapleinViera for his time and insight. All persons and characters featured in this story are 18 years or older. Please do not copy, reuse, or reproduce without explicit written permission of the author. ********* July 6 We fucked for the first time last night. I didn't see it coming so fast. This morning I told A I wanted him to use me. "Yes, I'll use you," he said. July 21 I begged him to tie me up and blindfold me yesterday, but he wouldn't do it. Every time we hang out in his room it's all I can see. At the head of the bed... a thick black boat cleat. He says nothing but I know it's because he doesn't want that to be the reason we're together. I hate that he talks about how he used it, and the expensive linen rope, on his last girlfriend... but wouldn't use it for me. July 25 Last night he said, "Eventually we would have to be apart, and soon. But you're crazy about me, aren't you." I don't know why I started crying. I couldn't stop. He kept asking me what was wrong, but how could I tell him? I couldn't tell him that I actually despised him. I couldn't tell him that I despised myself even more for thinking that I felt otherwise. Brooklyn Aug 28 Eyes sullen, Aiko leafed through the pages of her leather-bound journal, then shut it. The sound of teenagers bantering drifted in through the second floor window of her parents' Brooklyn brownstone. She released a shallow sigh from her lungs and eyed the full suitcase lying open next to her on the bed. Sitting up a little straighter, she reached beneath a thick pile of neatly folded shirts and tugged out her one triumph from Japan. She turned the bottle carefully in her palms, feeling its heft, inspecting its beautifully painted blue and white porcelain surface. She tipped it ever so slightly and savored the sound of its liquid contents gurgling and shifting shape against the inner contours of its neck. With a practiced gesture she circled the cap with her left hand, bracing herself for the sweet, pungent aroma. *** The next evening, Aiko stood the empty bottle neatly next to the trash bin. What a waste, she thought of its pretty shape and color. If it weren't a gift from him I'd take it with me. She ran her face under the cold tap in the bathroom, then dried off on a white towel as she watched herself in the mirror. She seemed pale, sallow somehow. "Aiko, where you going?" her mother called out from the kitchen as she padded downstairs and towards the front door. "I'm going to go see Hannah," she said, stepping into pair of bright yellow flats, "I'll be home for dinner, don't worry." "Okay, don't forget. I'm making your favorite tonight." Through the glass of the front door, the shady street was captured and distorted in a series of swirling circles. Aiko opened it with a loud creak and glided down the steps towards the sidewalk. * Three avenues away, Hannah's door swung open. She was almost shaking, her face brimming with joy. "Aiko! Oh my god!" She flung her arms around Aiko, heaving a satisfied sigh. "It's been too long, lady." Aiko returned her embrace in full, taking in her familiar scent. Hannah's wispy brown hair tickled her nose. "I know, I've been totally MIA." "Yeah, for like a hundred years!" Hannah stood back to appraise her. She could hardly stand still. "More like two," Aiko said matter-of-factly. "Two, ten, whatever. It was forever." Hannah motioned wildly, "Come in!" Aiko stepped tentatively into the hallway of a house she had spent a good deal of her teenage years in. Its subtle musty scents and woody odors took her back to a time that was hardly past, yet felt like ages ago. She fought back a sudden and unexpected rush of tears. "How long are you back in town for?" She looked behind her into the soft shadows of the narrow hallway, finding Hannah's silhouette moving towards her. "Five days. Then I go back to Providence." "Five days?!" "Yeah, I just came back too late from Kyoto. And school starts in a week," Aiko replied lamely. Hannah gently escorted her out of the hallway, past the living room and into a modest but elegantly lit kitchenette. "Well, at least I can come visit you. You won't be a twenty hour flight away," she laughed. "Let me fix you a drink. You want sangria?" * Most sangrias don't come with ice, but Hannah's did. The cubes were now melting at the bottom of her and Aiko's glasses. "You know, I sort of don't get why you were so fixated on Japan that you had to stay an extra year," Hannah remarked, pulling a tupperware box full of cut watermelon out of the fridge. "I mean, aren't there a ton of awesome photo programs and internships here in the city?" "There are..." Aiko shifted her weight against the counter. "I just wanted to see other cities. That's not so hard to understand." "I guess," Hannah said. "Maybe it's different because I haven't been in the city as long as you have." She pulled the lid off the container and produced two forks. Aiko watched her silently. Practical, thoughtful Hannah. Hannah's family was too closely knit for any of its members to stay far apart for too long. "I bet it's a boy," she said suddenly. Aiko flinched. Hannah looked back at her, lips cocked in a half-grin. "I know you. It's a boy." She was still momentarily stunned. "Come on, out with it." Hannah stabbed at a chunk of melon. "I know you well enough to know you wouldn't tell me unless I asked." Exhaling softly, Aiko wrung her hands. "I did meet a guy out there..." Hannah popped the melon into her mouth, not even looking at her. A brief silence passed between them. "He was from Finland," Aiko continued. "The foreign exchange students just sort of hung together, you know. And we hit it off pretty early in the semester. I didn't think he was hot, initially. I didn't really think much of him. But then..." "Then..." Hannah trailed off for her. "He also did some photography, but mostly video... When I got to know him better, he just— I just— I can't really talk about him right now." "It didn't end well?" "No. Not at all." "Well... how did it end?" Aiko struggled to find words out of the ocean of novels she'd already written in her mind about the breakup. She failed miserably. They heard the front door of Hannah's house click open—then shut. The sound of heavy footsteps reverberated in the hallway. Hannah's younger brother strolled into the kitchen, eyes never leaving Aiko's face. His short dark hair was matted against his head, shiny and damp. He walked with a swagger that can only ever be observed in a teenager. "Hey, Aiko," was all he said. She thought she could almost see him holding back a grin. Or a grimace? Ignoring Hannah altogether, he yanked open the fridge door, a dusty basketball still tucked between his hip and other hand. After several seconds of burying his face in the fridge, he resurfaced with a mostly empty jug of milk. He flicked off the plastic lid with his thumb and drained what was left of its contents down his throat. Aiko detected a hot blush spreading furiously all over his sweat-slicked face. "Hey, Paul," she said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Been a while, huh?" He nodded, finally darting a furtive glance at his sister. "What are you doing these days, playing football?" Aiko stared pointedly at his thick biceps. He had rolled up the sleeves of his black t-shirt. He was hardly what she remembered from senior year. Sophomore Paul had been a lanky, gangly boy with wild hair who had yet to grow into his large hands and feet. He'd also gotten several shades darker. The Paul now seemed to take up the entire kitchen. "Basketball," Hannah said, rolling her eyes. "It's all he ever does now." "While I was still in school," Paul corrected, avoiding Aiko's gaze. "I'm gonna go grab a shower." He set the empty jug on the counter and paced towards the stairs at the front of the hallway, abruptly ending their conversation. Hannah and Aiko heard the stairs squeak and moan under his weight as he lumbered upstairs and out of earshot. "Wow, transformation." Aiko said, eyebrows high. "Don't let him fool you," Hannah smirked, placing the empty jug in the trash. "You should see him when he's not around you." "Why, what do you mean?" "That kid is on my computer all the time, drooling over your Facebook page." "Ha! Really..." "Yeah, he has been totally hot for you since before you left for Rhode Island. Didn't admit it for the longest time, either. It's almost funny." Aiko did a mental rundown of vague images of him sneaking looks at her when she was over with Hannah. More often if she had on shorts or skimpy tops for the summer. She had dismissed it, thinking it was his hormones going wild. "So he's not usually this ... withdrawn?" It suddenly felt odd speaking about Paul this way. It occurred to Aiko that she had barely known him, all the while becoming fast friends with his sister. Hannah shook her head. "Not at all typical of him to act this way. Probably really nervous." She snickered. "Well, that's good to know he's not antisocial." "Yeah, well. We're just worried about him." "Why?" "He managed to graduate, but mom and dad can't talk him into deciding what he wants to do." Hannah stared distantly into the hallway. "We're having a tough time convincing him he should keep going to school, and not just working odd jobs around the neighborhood, you know?" Aiko was silent, thinking back on her own senior year, how easy it had been for her to decide what she wanted to do. It came as no surprise to her what school she wanted to go to, what she wanted to study, where she wanted to do it. There were also no second thoughts as soon as she got the opportunity to go abroad. Hannah's voice shook her out of her reverie. "Anyway, just don't tell him what I told you. He'll kill me." * She paused briefly in front of Hannah's stoop. They had hugged their temporary goodbyes moments ago, and the door had just shut behind her. Aiko walked several paces before she heard the door open again. She turned around half-expecting to see Hannah, but instead saw Paul hurrying down the steps and towards her. He was still in his old clothes, but barefoot. "Hey, um..." he sighed, stopping a few feet away from her. "Are you, um..." Aiko arched an eyebrow, a soft smile forming on her lips. He reached an arm behind his neck to scratch at a nonexistent itch. "Omar is um, having a house party tonight." "Omar?" "Oh, uh! He's a good friend— from the team." She couldn't help but be a little amused by his sudden change in demeanor. Was this normal Paul? Aiko grinned. Still, she couldn't bring herself to be seen at a high school party. That was just weird. "I have to be home for dinner tonight, unfortunately. Maybe I'll see you again before I leave?" "Ah— well." He reached into the pockets of his shorts and fumbled out a cell phone. "Maybe I'll leave my number with you, and you can call if you change your mind? I mean— if there's enough time..." "I don't have my phone on me, but you can call me and I'll have your number in there." "Yeah okay," he said, flipping his phone open immediately. Aiko gave him her number, studying his face all the while. In the dark part of her mind she wondered if he'd rehearsed this moment just shortly before. "Cool." Paul tucked the phone into a pocket and did a half-hop back towards the stoop, as if relieved that the worst was over. "I'll catch you later." "Bye," she said, watching him jog up the short flight of stairs and dart behind the safety of the front door. * A large steak was slowly settling in her stomach. Aiko carefully made her way down the front stoop of her house, her manual 35mm Canon strung around her neck. At eleven in the evening, the sun had long crept below the horizon. However, the city's night sky was bathed in perpetual washes of violets and pinks. Aiko walked quietly around the corner, her breathing and footsteps even and calm. On the corner of the block was an apartment building five stories high. She spied a lone, lit window on the third floor. Seeing that there were no pedestrians coming from either direction, Aiko adjusted the film and shutter speeds, then directed the camera at the small square of yellow light. She sucked in a sharp breath and froze as her finger hit the shutter. The camera clicked softly. Moments later it clicked a second time and Aiko exhaled deeply, lowering the camera as she resumed her breathing. From her vantage point there was only ceiling. No potted plants, no one peering out the window. She had walked about five streets down before coming upon a corner deli. Aiko probed her memory. Do delis carry wine? She swore softly when she remembered that she hadn't brought any money with her. "Hey!" Aiko turned in Paul's direction as he strode towards her from across the street. A soft smile lit upon his face. His mouth opened ever so slightly. "Hey, it's you again," she said. "What are you doing here?" He stuck both hands into his pockets. "Out for a walk." Aiko absently adjusted the strap of her camera. Paul stopped two feet away from her, yet felt strangely closer. "Taking pictures too?" he glanced at the camera, then back at her again. "Oh, yeah." "Isn't it a little dark?" Aiko smiled, her face lit only by the orange light of a street lamp several yards away. "I like to shoot in the dark." Paul had no reply but a wider smile. He breathed in softly. "You heading back? I can walk you home," he said. "Sure." They settled into a slow, almost reluctant pace back towards Aiko's house. Aiko's hands clung to the camera strap, suddenly self-conscious about her terrible conversation skills. "How was the party?" she asked, relieved that she remembered. "It was alright." Paul stared ahead. "I left a little early 'cause the guys just started drinking and smoking." "I see." "I'm just not into the whole thing, you know," he said, looking back at her. Odd, she thought. There was not a single student in her graduating class who hadn't gotten drunk or high before senior year. "Why is that?" she wondered aloud. "I just think—if I ever got really into it I'd just... go a little crazy." Aiko surveyed the darkened windows of the buildings they were passing by, not sure how to respond. "How was uh, Japan?" Paul asked, his voice a little uneasy. "It was good. Everything's kind of expensive, but worth it I guess." She shrugged. "Very package-intensive culture." They came to a momentary stop at the crosswalk. "All the customer service there is great. Everyone is really polite," Aiko continued. "Almost everyone seems to drink a ton though." "Ha!" Paul laughed. "Maybe I shouldn't go there then." "Well, other than that I think you might like it there." She immediately realized she couldn't possibly know for sure. "At least you might blend in to some degree." "Why? Do I look Japanese?" "You could pass for half-Japanese, maybe. From the back at least." Paul grinned. "It's the quarter of Spanish." "Yep." "Do you speak Japanese?" "I picked up a bit while I was there. But before, no." "Oh. I always thought you were from Japan." Aiko resisted rolled her eyes. "No, I was born downtown at Beth Israel. Before Kyoto I hadn't even gone to Japan." "But your family is from there, I mean obviously." "Yeah." "Oh okay." An uncomfortable silence crept between them for several moments. Aiko searched frantically for the words as they walked. "So—was something bothering you this afternoon?" Paul turned to look at her. "What do you mean?" "When you came inside your house." "Oh," he sighed softly through his teeth. "... I thought my sister would say something stupid and embarrass me, I guess." "She seemed concerned for you." Aiko glanced at him. "I know." His eyes were downcast. He exhaled deeply. "They have a problem with me not going to school right away." Aiko was silent. "They just don't get that I want to work and save up some money first," Paul said. "It doesn't feel right to rush into something just 'cause I should, you know." "No, I guess not," she agreed. "What would you save up the money for?" Paul shrugged. "Maybe school. Or maybe I'd go traveling." They arrived at bottom of Aiko's stoop. She leaned her back against the railing. "Oh yeah? Where would you want to go?" "I don't know yet." He grinned broadly. His deep set eyes glinted under the streetlight. "I'm thinking Japan." *** From: Anders Vang To: Aiko Tachibana Date: Tue, Aug 28, 2010 at 11:58 PM Subject: (no subject) aiko i am sorry about what i said i don't want you to regret our time together even if you never speak to me again, i hope things won't stay bad between us the world is small. maybe i will see you again someday i am sorry good bye A She sped through the email and immediately hit "delete," as if leaving it open would sear her retinas. Aiko was livid. She knew full well why he had just sent this poor excuse of an apology. She wondered if he knew that, or if he was just too oblivious to care. "Aiko!" her mom hollered from downstairs. "Don't you want breakfast?" * Hannah hunched over to set down her several shopping bags. They crinkled loudly when they hit the floor. Winded from their trip to the city, Aiko flung herself into the cushions of the overstuffed couch. The girls let out a synchronized sigh. They looked at each other and giggled. The living room was bathed in the lovely afternoon sunlight. Aiko pulled a naked foot out of one sandal and slipped it into a warm pane of light on the carpet. "Hey, where's your brother?" she asked. Hannah turned away from the open fridge to peer at the clock. "He should be doing lifeguard duty at the Y, I think." "Lifeguard? Is he even old enough?" "He jumped on it as soon as he turned eighteen in March. He says it's the 'cushiest' job in the world." "I believe it." "Why, you want to go see him?" Hannah grinned at Aiko from behind a frosty can of cola. Aiko stared blankly at her. "You should go see him," she said, taking a generous swig of the soda. "It'd probably make him really happy. The guys at the front desk would let you in if you asked for him." "Maybe a little later I can." Aiko got up and stretched her arms and back. No harm in entertaining a little crush. "I'd come but my classes start in an hour and don't let out until ten," Hannah groaned. "Brutal." "Yeah, no kidding." Aiko yawned and looked about lazily. "Hey, can I use the bathroom?" * She dried her hands on the small towel. On the way back to the stairs she saw what must be Paul's room through a door standing slightly ajar. Quiet curiosity swept all other thoughts out of her mind as she crept towards it, pushing the door just enough for her body to slip through. The mattress of his unmade bed sat directly on the floor, flanked by short stacks of clothes, sneakers, books, video game boxes and dvd's. Other than a tall dresser and an almost empty desk, there was no other furniture. Aiko noted an old black laptop on the desk, leaning open against the wall. Its hinge seemed to have snapped and come apart. Aside from his belongings and the bed the room seemed mostly undisturbed, as if his living there was just a temporary stay. She turned around and saw that the back of Paul's door was densely plastered with photographs of his friends and family. They swirled like a multicolored ocean of faces around a large, blue map of the world. By its upper right corner, she noticed, was an old photograph of herself framed by Hannah's front door, turned shyly away from the camera. An Aperture Apart * She saw Paul through the glass that separated the pool deck from the Y's lower level hallway. He seemed relaxed, seated in a tall chair, dressed in an orange tank top and red shorts. Occasionally he shook out his feet, tapping his flip flops against his soles. His hands rested on a long red safety buoy, draped across his lap. Aiko thought she'd find him staring off into space, but instead he was scanning the lanes with a calm attentiveness. Paul's head turned to look in her direction as soon as she opened the door to the pool. He hopped out of the tall chair and bounded towards her, his face bright with pleasant surprise. "Aiko. What's up?" "Not much, just wanted to see for myself when Hannah said you were a lifeguard." "It is an awesome job," he glowed. "Anyway, you get off soon right?" "Yeah, in ten minutes." "Hannah's in class till late tonight. She said your parents are going to be in the city until late, too. You think you'd want to get some dinner when you're done?" Paul grinned, trying in vain not to. * "Have you been here before?" Aiko asked. "A couple times, not lately though." "Anything you'd recommend?" "Um..." Paul searched the menu up and down carefully. "I think the teriyaki was pretty good." "Okay, let's get that then," she said. "Would you mind if I ordered some sake as well? He looked up and shook his head. "No, not at all. You should get whatever you want." Their meal arrived minutes later. It took everything for Paul to not scarf down his food. "Do you want to try some of this?" Aiko asked, the small sake bottle in one hand. She pointed at the two cups they'd been given. She thought it was only polite to ask. He studied the tiny cup on the table. "Sure." Smiling, Aiko tipped the sake into the thimble-sized vessels. They each took one and reached out for a toast. "Kampai," she said happily. They threw back the sake. Aiko sucked it down and exhaled in one long, satisfied gasp. Paul gulped, then breathed deeply. "What was that, like 'toast' in Japanese?" he said, tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. "Yes. How was it?" He wiped the tears away and sighed. "Actually, not as bad as I thought." "Your first time?" "Nah," he shrugged. "I've had a beer or two before." "Enough to know you hate it, huh?" "This I think is okay," he said, nodding slightly. "Have another then." She quickly poured him another cup. "You trying to get me drunk?" He laughed. "Oh, I think it'd take more than a couple of cups, to be honest." "Probably." He lifted the cup to his lips and devoured the drink. By the end of dinner, Paul was too tipsy to go home right away. "My parents will bust me for sure," he said. He took his foot off the basketball under the table and produced it for Aiko to see. "Maybe we shoot some hoops and burn it off?" "Sure," she said, hardly affected by the alcohol. "But I have to say, I'm not much of an athlete." "Then maybe we'll be even." Paul watched the ball twirl on the back of his knuckle. * "I can't believe half a bottle was all it took," she said, tossing him the ball. "I had as much as you did." They stood a few yards away from the hoop, at the center of a small tree-lined park. Yellow and white street lights peeked through the thick leaves. "Whatever," Paul said casually. He made a shot and missed. The ball fell to the ground with a rubbery 'bing' and bounced away. He jogged past the hoop to retrieve it. Aiko didn't really see how this would "burn it off," as he had put it. At least he was in his element and comfortable. She wasn't about to challenge him to a one-on-one. That would just be futile. She planted her hands on the back of her hips and studied him as he made his way back to her, blankly dribbling the ball. Apart from his face, Paul could hardly pass for just an eighteen year old. Boyish curves still lingered in his gently dimpled chin, the sides of his nose, the prominent corners of his jaw ... the ruddy, high turns of his cheekbones. At eighteen he was young but already devastatingly handsome in a subtly clean, American way. He was perpetually dressed in the modest cuts and shades of an athletic city teen. Such a sharp contrast to Ander's tight-fitting clothes in day-glo colors. Aiko flinched involuntarily—something in her stung at the thought. Paul leapt slightly for another shot—this time farther away, and made it. "I think you should probably have some water," she remarked, remembering the stone drinking fountain at a shady corner of the park. "Good idea." He sighed softly and started trudging behind Aiko's lead. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked, glancing back at him. "Yeah, fine." His downcast eyes appeared clouded. He shook his head slowly, visibly uneasy about the loss of control that came with being drunk. They paused at the fountain, where Paul leaned over the upward arc of water. Aiko sat down at a nearby bench, sucking in a lungful of clear night air. "It's starting to get a little colder," she said absently. Several moments later he had his fill of water and joined her on the bench, wiping away the moisture on his lips with his hand. A low car blasting loud reggaeton music glided by the park, temporarily drowning out the silence. It turned a corner and was suddenly far away. "What kind of music do you listen to?" Paul asked her, as if prompted. "Almost anything," Aiko shrugged, unable to single out any genre in particular. "You?" "Lately, reggae." He grinned, his gaze lingering on her face. "—it's nice to be important, but more important to be nice—" Aiko couldn't keep from grinning. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whooaa—" Paul continued, obviously enjoying himself. "You are way too drunk," she quipped. "I'm never treating you to sake again." "I'll just have to fly to Japan to get some for myself." "Sure you're not going for all the little Japanese girls?" Aiko surprised herself with her own question. To him, it must come out of nowhere. "Naw," he said, leaning back, "I actually don't usually like Asian girls." "Really." "Really." They studied each other for several extended moments. Aiko looked away. In the dim light of where they sat she didn't see Paul lean in to press a kiss on the corner of her mouth. It was soft and tentative, made warm by his suddenly labored breathing. "Oh." She silently formed the word with her mouth, momentarily frozen. "Sorry," he said, his voice a bare whisper. Paul's face was still held close, searching her eyes for a more legible response. Aiko uttered nothing but gazed at his lips, mimicking them by parting her own, her eyes heavy and damp. It was the signal he needed. Paul tipped towards her for the second time, this time capturing her mouth in a more surefooted kiss, his breath hot with the sweet odor of sake. He probed her lips with the velvet tip of his tongue, nipping it now and then between his gentle teeth. A barely audible groan escaped from deep within her throat. She returned the kiss with a slowly mounting frenzy. Like clockwork, a dull ache started to unfold and pool in her stomach. Aiko's knees pulled close together as Paul laid a broad, warm hand on the curve of her waist, the added contact sending a brilliant shudder through her lower back. They broke the kiss for several seconds to catch their breath. Paul's eyes were closed as he gently huffed. When he reopened them they were black with want, his eyebrows heavily knotted. He gently pulled her to him, closing the distance between them. Aiko clutched at his shirt for balance, feeling his heart beat in double time. A fine sheen of perspiration showed on his neck and forehead. She felt her nipples harden into tender points. "Paul." Her voice was low, faintly trembling. He eagerly tilted his head, prepared to kiss her again. His mouth found the tender, sensitive skin of her neck, just below her earlobe. "Paul," she repeated. "You have to go home." He drew back to study her eyes, not sure what to say. "Our parents are probably wondering where we are," she said glumly. The mention of parents reminded them both of the futility of the evening's situation. Neither of them had their own place. "Okay." They reluctantly broke their embrace, still panting softly from their encounter. *** Providence Sept 25 I hate more than anything that A lied to me. I had never thought I'd be one of those idiot girls that believed a guy's bullshit when he said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with them. Two years of my life, gone. The fact that I can't even cry about the break up is an embarrassment. The whole thing amounts to nothing. Aiko paused, then continued writing. My one consolation is the fact that I used A as much as he used me. I made sure he knew it, and he does. I'm sure he also knows that I hate his work. He knows he was only good for the fuck. She snapped the journal shut and threw it on the nightstand, as if in severe disgust. Two weeks had passed since she returned to the dorm in Providence. She loathed herself for continuing the entries this way, but they gnawed at the tissue of her brain unless she emptied them out. Perhaps this was her way of grieving, she thought. Each letter was a tear she couldn't bring herself to shed, but could be put to paper quite easily. Aiko surveyed her small bedroom, relieved to be its single occupant. She could hear her suite mate preparing breakfast in the kitchen. Got to pull together. She steeled herself and stood up, gathering her things for class. Her phone buzzed. She slid it open and was met with a message from Hannah. Paul left home this AM, I think to find you. Call me if you see him. She stared blankly at the screen. The events of that one evening three weeks ago flooded back to her with full force. She sat back down on the bed, hand clutching the phone against her breast. An inexplicable mixture of joy and horror assaulted her thoughts. I'm not ready. She sighed. I can't do this! As if on cue her phone came to life, ringing loudly at her chest. She shook with a start. "...Paul?" "Hey, it's me!" His casual voice left her disoriented. "Where— where are you?" "I'm on a bus approaching Providence." She felt numb. "When are you getting here?" "Ah, probably in about fifteen minutes? I think we're getting off at— Fifty Exchange Terrace." "Okay, stay right there when you get off and I'll come get you." Aiko's heart was beating wildly in her ribcage. "It's okay, just tell me which way to go and we can meet half way," he assured her. "Um... get onto Washington heading towards the water, and I'll come meet you." "Alright, see you." He hung up. * They met over the bridge closer to the side her school was on. He had on dark blue jeans and a gray t-shirt, a small blue duffle bag slung low on one shoulder. He hurried towards her as soon as he got sight of her. They came within a foot of each other, yet at that moment couldn't decide if they should hug. They hugged anyway. Aiko inhaled his scent—it was clean and crisp, and deeply intoxicating. Carefully, they pulled apart. "How've you been?" Paul breathed excitedly, hands dug deep into his back pockets. "Fine." She managed a weak smile. "That's not very convincing," he said, eyebrows arched. They headed in the direction of the school. "Paul, does your family know you're here?" Aiko blurted out. He almost groaned. "No. But I told them I was going away for a few days and that I'd be back." "Paul—they're going to be worried sick about you. You really should at least call them and tell them you're here." "I will, I will, don't worry." "Really, Paul, it would make me feel a lot better." "Fine," he complained, as he pulled out his phone and typed a short text. "There. I told my sister. Happy?" "Thank you," Aiko muttered, shaking her head. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, tension creeping into his voice. "I'm fine," she said. "Let's just get you to the dorm so I can go to class. I'll be late." * Paul set his bag down at the foot of Aiko's bed. "I mean, it's okay with you if I stayed here for a little while, right?" "Sure, it's no problem. I just wanted to make sure your parents know where you are." Aiko darted about the room gathering sketches and prints and stuffing them into her backpack. "Do you know how long you'd be staying?" He smiled wanly. "I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead." A small knot of worry settled in her chest. She stood to look at him. "Paul, we both know your parents are upset with you already for missing out on college." His jaw tensed, silent for a long moment. "Well, that's why I came here," he said quietly. "I figured I'd come and sort some things out." "Alright, well," Aiko said. "If I leave for a couple hours for class, will you stay out of trouble while I'm gone?" Paul produced a most seductive grin. "Jesus, I'm eighteen. I can take care of myself." * Two and a half hours later, Aiko pulled a half empty bottle of Jim Beam out of her freezer, then set her keys down on the counter. Having no tumblers, she removed a small juice glass from the dishwasher and filled it all the way up. She padded into her room with her glass of whiskey and backpack. Paul was perched at the edge of the bed, reading quietly in front of the muted light of the table lamp. His silhouette was unbearably arresting. "Stay there," Aiko said. She set down the glass and pulled her manual camera out of her bag. She aimed, focused the lens, then committed the image to film. Satisfied, she retrieved the glass and made her way to the bed. Aiko set the camera down on the nightstand, then the glass. Its moist bottom formed a wet seal with the surface of the table. She froze. Paul shut the journal in his two large hands. He held it like a heavy stone between his knees. A nauseating, deafening silence filled the space between them. Aiko's gut seized up as she gaped at him. His eyes were glued to his hands. "Who is 'A'," he uttered weakly, his voice cracking ever so slightly. It was hardly a question but a cold demand to know. Aiko shuddered at the sound of his voice, at what he was saying. Absently she brought up a trembling hand to cover her flushed face. "He was this guy I met in Japan." "Are you still talking to him?" Paul asked darkly. "No." Aiko shook her head, almost violently. "I broke up with him when— when I found out he just wanted someone to bring him to the States." He inhaled sharply, his eyes murky and illegible. Paul took the journal in one hand and rested it carefully next to him on the bed. Though a voice screamed out in her, denouncing the sudden interrogation and the need the explain herself, Aiko exclaimed, "He is nothing to me!" He didn't flinch. How can he understand, she thought hopelessly. How can I ever make him understand? She couldn't. She stood lamely in front of him, her hands clenched into small bitter fists, watching him sit motionlessly on her bed. Paul looked away, his face unreadable. He looked away for the longest time before swiftly turning to her again. Horrified, she watched uncountable emotions tremble and flicker through his dark features, the muscles and tendons in his body wound up tight like a bomb. Aiko saw him leap up and throw his hand back, as if to strike her. She winced. For several moments time came to a standstill. She opened her eyes as his hands clenched around her shoulders to hurl her onto the bed. She landed on the cover and he was on her, briskly pinning her panic-stricken wrists above her hair. His eyes like hot black coals, Paul forced her hands into the bed several times, making it clear she was not to move them. She watched him peel off his t-shirt, now slightly damp with his sweat, and wring it into a thick, makeshift rope. As he straddled her he set about tying her hands together. Paul's fingers trembled visibly as he held the shirt up to her wrists. Below him, Aiko's body trembled harder. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Paul's lips pressed together in a pale, taut line. His chest heaved violently with strained breaths. Wordlessly he straightened up and pitched the coiled shirt to the floor. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice surprisingly hushed. "Aiko, look at me." Reluctantly she blinked her eyes open, suddenly feeling at her most vulnerable. Warm relief washed over her when Paul rested an elbow on either side of her shoulders, shrouding her body with his own. She studied his face, searching for some expression or scrutable word on his lips. Instead he leaned down and closed his mouth around the side of her neck, flattening his scalding tongue against her bare skin. Aiko gasped and twisted her face away. Her hands found his shoulders. Her blood pulsed beneath his tongue like a wide, feverish river. "Paul..." Aiko breathed, the sound barely a whisper. Her fingers grasped his shoulder and the velvety base of his neck as he crushed her hips with his erection. Panting gently, his hand circled her neck, trailed between her breasts and slipped down to unbutton her jeans. With the zipper undone he released it from her waist, taking her panties with it as he tugged it down past her thighs. It silently joined the discarded shirt on the floor. Paul gathered her ankles and folded her knees against her chest. He pressed his palm against her sex, feeling its heat and its softness. "Look at me," he said again. His eyebrows were tense with hunger. She did as he told, locking his gaze with her own as he dipped an index finger into her pussy. Aiko moaned. Her outer lips were dry but his finger came out thickly coated with her slippery juices. She clenched her teeth as he tested her again, this time with two fingers. He felt her muscles close tightly around them as she writhed beneath him. "J-Just fuck me already," she groaned, her eyes quickly darkening with frustration. She found his speed intolerable. He yielded, sitting back on his haunches to unbutton his own pants. Impatient, Aiko reached out and jerked it open. She dove her hand behind the band of his boxers and unceremoniously produced his stiff cock. Her stare bore into his eyes as she stroked him, her hungry mouth agape. Paul sighed hoarsely at the contact and at her sudden boldness. Her hand was full of his cock as she coaxed a large, clear drop of precum out of the tip. With her thumb she rubbed it into the crown, spreading it all around the plump ridges. Aiko flipped herself onto her knees, her back towards Paul. She bent over and eagerly guided the tip towards her ready entrance. It pushed up against her wet slit with just enough pressure to send shivers through her entire body. Her eyes were closed in a throe of ecstasy when Paul seized her waist and flipped her back to face him, this time lifting her onto his lap. He laid backwards, his hands still firmly clasping the flesh of her hips. "Look at me," he firmly demanded, his eyes unwavering, "I want you to look at me while you fuck me." Drawing in a breath through clenched teeth, Aiko grudgingly complied. She took hold of his cock and guided it again to her slick pussy. Eyes trained on his, she slowly sat down, feeling it slip into her narrow cavity. His thickness threatened to tear her. Aiko tried not to wince as she worked to accommodate his girth. Paul held his breath, sweat streaking down his face. Without warning he swiftly wrenched her hips down against his own, viscously plunging into the depths of her pussy. She screamed. "Fuck—" he gasped as he watched her face contort in a mixture of euphoria and pain. Aiko squirmed above him, the cheeks of her ass pressed firmly against the skin of his sac. She panted heavily, eyes only half open but still watching him. He felt the strong muscles of her canal clutch at him, stretched tight over the head of his cock. An Aperture Apart Slowly Paul lifted her, his fingers digging into her flesh. The sudden contrast between being full and empty made her moan. He poised her right at the tip, letting it slip out entirely and rub against her clit. "Where did— you learn to fuck like this?" Aiko breathed, the syllables barely slipping between her teeth. Her hands held onto the slick skin of his forearms. "A lot of reading." Paul positioned her over him and before she could process what that meant, slammed into her again with as much fury as the first thrust, hitting the same deep barrier with full force. "Oh god— Paul—" she wailed. Aiko feared that he'd damage her, but was more afraid that he'd stop. "Paul—" "It's okay," he assured in a hushed voice, "it's okay." He lifted her and pounded into her again, this time more swiftly and with less ferocity. Gradually they fell into a fast, frantic rhythm. "Remember to look at me," he said again when her eyes absently shut from the onslaught. Aiko opened them with great effort, panting uncontrollably as her breasts bounced and quivered from his relentless thrusting. The room was charged with their grunts and the wet sounds of their fucking. Paul's face tensed from the building pressure. She watched him swallow dryly, the tips of his teeth meeting behind his parched lips. "Paul—" she gasped. "I'm gonna— come if we keep—" "Me too." Just as she felt her stomach tighten he quickly sat up, pushing her onto her back. He continued slamming into her, each thrust now beating against the belly side of her passage. Aiko threw her head back in an unbearable rapture—she was so close. Paul buried a hand her hair, bringing her head back to face him. His other hand found her breast through the fabric of her shirt and fit his palm to its shape. He had a tenderly swollen nipple pinched between the knuckles of his middle and ring fingers. "Look at me when you come, Aiko," he whispered, his own orgasm drawing near. Each of his thrusts slammed into her like a fifteen thousand ton freight train. Her body convulsed forcefully, her fingers finding and digging into the taut skin of his stomach. She felt on the verge of a black, thunderous death as she came. Paul swiftly leaned down just in time to smother her scream with his mouth. Her pupils dilated silently into black, bottomless discs as she stared into his eyes. Her muscles clenched down around him with unforgiving force, driving him past that blinding point of no return. His entire body tensed and froze as he was caught halfway in her. Hot cum surged out of him in shuddering spasms and into her spent body. * In the early hours of the morning, Paul woke quietly. A tired Aiko lay close behind him, breathing shallow, even breaths. He didn't move. He cracked open bleary eyes to see her upturned camera on the floor, soaked in whiskey. An empty juice glass lay on its side several inches away. In his half-asleep mind he saw the camera's contents readily dissolving, the roll of film inside its body a gnarled tape of stunning, invisible colors.