I fell asleep leaned against his shoulder.
He had wrapped a blanket around me, because I woke with a blanket covering me. Still on the couch, but with the blanket.
It had probably been a really good birthday.
I stretched beneath the blanket and stifled a yawn. Would it be very, what should I call it, clingy of me to ask if we could maybe do something today?
I reached for my phone, it was on the coffee table.
There was a text from him? When had I even gotten his number?
Alexander: You fell asleep, there was a blanket. I left ten thirty. Can we meet again?
I smiled.
Christina: Thank you for the blanket. Maybe today?
Alexander: For lunch?
Christina: Okay. Your place or mine?
Alexander: Mine
Christina: Okay, I'll be there around noon
I never got an answer to that one.
I showered, put on clean clothes, emptied and filled the dishwasher and went to Alexander's place.
Thanksgiving came and went. Very literally. Alexander was still negative because I would be spending the day alone, but after I'd declined his offer to spend it with him and his family, he dropped it.
December hit New York, and because I hadn't been in New York during Christmas time before, Alexander insisted on taking me to Rockerfeller Plaza to see the Christmas tree.
That's where we were heading.
Arm in arm.
We hadn't slept together since. I mean, I hadn't slept over at his place since. There had been quite a few walks, going to the cinema once and that was it. No looking after children or event or function or anything. I guess we were getting to know each other?
"It's a Saturday night," I halfway moaned to Alexander. "There will be a billion people."
"It has to be seen at night," he said. "It was the first thing Mom and Dad brought me to see after I was adopted," he said. "It's Christmas to me.
"How sweet."
He looked at me. "No pity," he warned.
"That wasn't pity," I said. "Dad did the same thing for me when I was a kid. Not the same, but something that felt the same. He'd lift me so I could put the star on top of the Christmas tree."
Alexander smiled and pulled me around a group of tourists with a map.
We reached the tree and I had to give in. This was amazing.
"I would take you ice skating," he said. "But you twisted your ankle."
I smiled. What could I say? I had twisted my ankle going to work. It wasn't anything serious and it was barely swollen at all, but I hadn't gotten near high heels since â a full three days wouldn't be enough time to call me cured. So ice skating would probably not be the best idea.
Alexander had been a gentleman and picked me up, now it happened when I'd just left my building.
"It's still beautiful," I said.
He nodded without looking away from the many sparkling Christmas lights. It wasn't snowing, but it was pretty cold.
"Had you never seen this tree before you were adopted?"
"No," he said. "I lived in Maine before I was adopted."
"Really?" I asked.
He looked at me. "Yeah, really," he said.
I smiled and looked at the tree again.
We stood like that in several minutes.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked.
I nodded. "To your place?"
He smiled. "Sleep in my flat."
"You need to lift the end of the sentence so it sounds like a question," I said in a soft sigh.
He didn't say anything.
We went back to his flat.
"It was stunning," I said.
He'd pushed the button for the elevator. "I know," he said. "My biological mother didn't want to celebrate Christmas. She worked, that gave her more money, but just once I'd wanted to have that experience."
"Your parents gave you the experience?" Yes, his parents were his adoptive parents, and that even though he had vivid memories about his biological mother.
He smiled. "Marcus and Damien just didn't get why I didn't dare get near the presents."
"How old were you?"
He went into the elevator without answering.
I followed and he punched in the pin for the penthouse. Certain things were not discussed a lot. Like Mom's passing and his issues. It was there implicit, but it wasn't talked about or discussed.
We rode the elevator in silence and I went to the bathroom before we had the time to begin a new conversation. I wasn't sure if we should have a conversation right now. And I didn't say it to run or to avoid anything, but sometimes it's just the better choice to separate for the time being. It had happened before, and it had never been a bad thing.
Alexander had been frustrated about an insignificant just-for-fun argument we'd had about the movie we'd watched in the cinema. And he took it way too literal, so we decided we'd split and go home. We met up the following day instead.
I left the bathroom and went to the living room.
Alexander sat on the couch before the fake fireplace.
"It was a special thing to see the Christmas tree," I said and sat down on the backrest behind Alexander.
He looked back at me with a small smile. It was more than just the hint of a smile, but I still wouldn't call it a definite smile yet. "You can find something special to show me at some point?"
I smiled. "I've seen a giant button with a needle. You should see that."
He laughed.
I put my hands on his shoulders and pulled him back against the backrest.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Trying to come up with an excuse to touch you? My hands were still on his shoulders. "I'm giving you a massage," I said. "If you want it."
He rolled his shoulders back.
I could give him a massage though I wasn't an expert, even by a long shot. "Are you always tense?" I asked. I knew the answer. He'd told me once, in a context I'd now forgotten about.
He nodded and rolled his shoulder back again before I was allowed to continue massaging his very tense muscles.
"Go see a physiotherapist or something," I said. He was like granite, and it wasn't just muscles.
"It doesn't help," he said. "It's too embedded in my psychological, or mental state."
I ran my fingers through his hair.
"I can't persuade you to stay?" he asked and looked back at me. "To being more?"
I shook my head. "You can't stop being controlling and I don't want to be controlled in the way you sometimes want to control me," I said.
He swallowed and looked away from me. "I know."
I started massaging his shoulder again. "Do you want to drive me to the airport?" I asked quietly. He was the only one I knew who had a car. And he had become a really close friend. Yes, I still had butterflies in my belly when I saw him. That was not the way to be excited before you were meeting up with a good friend.
He turned and looked almost hopeful. "Can I?"
I smiled and nodded. "I'd appreciate it."
His shoulder relaxed a bit.
I really liked him, but he wanted to dictate too much and I couldn't live with that.
He hesitated, I could feel it in his shoulders. "Are you coming back to Manhattan?"
I nodded. "I've got a job here," I said. "I've got friends and a life here."
"What about your dad?"
"He'll manage without me," I said.
Alexander stood, pulled me onto the couch and sat down next to me. "My mother didn't want me," he said and looked at his folded hands. "And I lived with her for five years. Five years are a long time to feel unwanted." He said.
My earlier question on when he'd been adopted. I was fairly certain he'd told me before, but never with this amount of detail.
"Abandonment issues," I whispered. He had so many issues about being left behind, and now it might make a bit more sense to me.
"She just left one day and didn't come back," he said. "So yes, I have issues about being left behind and that's why I want to be in control."
"The reaction Damien and Marcus had to you and presents make sense now." I said.
Alexander smiled a crooked smile which didn't reach his eyes. "I know I can't control everyone and everything," he said. "And I'm working on it, but that doesn't mean it isn't difficult."
"That's what I don't understand, why you want to do that," I said. "I just find it so very difficult to be okay with it."
"Believe me, a lot of people have difficulties with accepting that," he said and looked out the windows.
I looked at his profile. "I want to go to bed." I said.
He looked at me. "Okay," he said. "Sleep tight."
I stood. "You too."
He smiled without moving a muscle.
I went up the stairs.
The door was slammed open with a force that had it meeting the wall with a bang.
I opened my eyes in shock and stared up into the dark ceiling. My fingers sought and found the switch for the bedside lamp.
Alexander stood in the doorway. His t-shirt was wet caused by sweat, and he was breathing too fast. His chest moved too fast.
"What's happening?" I asked.
It felt like minutes had passed by when in reality it was nothing more than a brief moment.
"Shit, you're still here," he said quietly.
"Yes," I said. "Where would I go?"
He shut the door and sat down on the bed next to me. His back to me.
Where was he going with this?
He fell on his back and rubbed his face in his hands. "Crap." He muttered.
I smiled. "What did you dream about?" I asked.
He looked at me.
No answer.
I pulled the comforter to my chin. Somehow it felt weird not to wear a bra when he was around.
He lowered his gaze and closed his eyes before opening them again.
"Don't you think you need to go back to bed?" I asked.
He nodded without moving.
"I'm going to the bathroom," I said and slipped out of bed. "Go to bed, Alexander," I said gently and went to the bathroom.
Alexander was fast asleep on my bed when I returned. Of course.
I pulled the comforter out from beneath him and covered him with it. What had sent him to this state of panic?
I put me in the side of the bed that was mine. There were two comforters, one for each side, so it'd be fine. Besides, he was lying completely still on his back.
I reached up to turn off the light. I fluffed the pillow, lay down and closed my eyes.
Alexander stirred. His hand met my side and, as if he knew exactly what he wanted, he moved closer to me. His face was pressed to my back. The middle of my back.
I could vaguely feel the dampness through my clothes. And it should probably be disgusting, that he wrapped himself around me when he was sweaty, but it wasn't sweat from physical activity. Not that the sweat being cold sweat helped, but still.