Wow, have I really not been on here for two years? So much has changed on this site since then! This is also the first time I've actually been able to finish a piece of writing since the last time I published something, which is quite sad, actually, but it feels so good. The best part is, I was just looking through things in my "Fiction" folder and I stumbled across this one. I laughed at the first line and barely remembered writing it. Actually, reading it again, I only remembered the vague impression of writing it and where I intended it to go. I then decided to finish the piece. I actually really enjoy it, although I only did minimal editing because I was so excited to finish and get it posted, so my apologies on that one. To any of my returning readers, it's great to have you back. To any new readers, it's great to have you! Now, I hope you enjoy!
My Personal Human Thermos
"Move your hand an inch in any direction and you're dead meat. You're mine for the night." They were the first words I had ever said to him. What I never realized is what they would lead to…
A pounding sound resonated on my door. "Evie…"
And men suck worse.
"She's not here right now, can you come back later!" I yelled.
"Nice try, Eve. Open up!"
Men suck worse especially when they're banging on your door insistently while you're on your period, which already sucks.
"Evelyn," the voice called out all sing-song like in that lovely British accent of his. I growled in response. "I brought your favorite chocolate cheesecake…"
I was out of my fetal position on my bed and at the door in a heartbeat. I wrenched the door open to stare at the man behind it. Tall, broad shoulders, narrow waist, green eyes, sandy brown hair, and a great smile. But I didn't see any cheesecake. "Gimme."
"God, you look like shit Eve," Seth said with a laugh, his eyebrows crinkling in amusement. I couldn't blame him for that one. He was completely accurate. Wearing my baggy sweatshirt, Soffee shorts with my hair up in a messy bun and bags under my eyes I knew I looked like shit. He wouldn't get in trouble for that. He'd get in trouble for the lack of cake.
I thrust my hand out at him, palm up, and crooked my fingers. "Cheesecake. Now. Or you're getting a swift kick in the groin, friend or not."
Seth laughed. "Alright, alright, I'd like to keep my manhood intact. Here," he said, pulling a cake out from behind his back and offering it to me. "Now move over, grouchy-butt." He pushed me aside, swept into my room, and took a seat on the desk chair, propping his feet up on my bed.
I glowered at him, looking between him and the door in confusion. Finally I just shook my head, rolled my eyes and shuffled back to my bed where I curled up with my legs tucked under me and the plate on my lap. "You try bleeding from your vagina once a month and see if you could do it without being grumpy," I grumbled, shoving a bite of the cake into my mouth.
Seth looked amused. "I don't have a vagina, love"
I shot him a glare over the fork. "Good to know. I was really beginning to wonder." I paused for another bite of cake. "Why are you here, again?"
"Well after I got your text saying you didn't want to hang out…I knew something had to be up…" He ignored my death stare. "And then I remembered it was probably that time of the month, and you would probably like some cake and company."
"Cake yes, company no," I retorted.
"Ahh, come on Evie," he drawled from where he sat, feet up, hands behind his head, leaned back. Cocky asshole. "You know you love me."
A forkful of delectable chocolate cake in my mouth, I settled with flipping him off. He laughed. "So what do you want to do?"
"That's not an option," he quipped. Seth thrived off of torturing me. "So do you want to watch a movie?"
"Play a game?"
"Read a book?"
"No. Ah!" I cried out in indignation when I went to take another bite of cake, only to discover that I had eaten it all. I looked up at him, distraught. "Sad."
He laughed and stood up. "Give me that," he said gently, taking the empty plate and putting it on my desk. Lay down." I grunted. "Lay down, Evelyn."
"Bah," I scoffed, but nevertheless obeyed, sprawling myself out on the bed. A moment later, he was beside me, his amazing hands running up and down my back in a careful massage. My eyes fluttered closed with happiness. "This is why I keep you around, you know that right," I muttered into the pillow.
"So I can be your slave man and bring you cake and give you back massages, yes, I know."
"You're the best," I said, twisting my head to grin at him.
"Mnh-hmn," he hummed skeptically. "Okay. You always say that."
"And I mean it," I said in a sing song voice. "The bestest."
"Alright," he said, patting my back. "You're done. Up you get."
"I'm so not moving," I said into my sheets.
"That's fine," he said as he got up, walked across my room and came back again. I looked up to see him holding my remote. "Then we're watching a movie, and I get to choose."
I pursed my lips at him, and he raised an eyebrow at me, challenging me. "Fine," I conceded. "Have it your way."
"I will," he said, making himself comfortable in the corner. He flipped the tv on, and pressed play on the remote before grabbing a pillow and placing it in his lap. He patted the pillow. "C'mon, Evie."
Grumbling still more, I hoisted myself onto all fours and crawled across the bed, plopping myself down like a tired dog beside him, placing my head in his lap. He put his hand on my head, running his fingers through my hair, and I grabbed his other hand and put it on my abdomen, sighing contently at the warmth. "Magic hands."
He ruffled my hair affectionately.
It may seem strange to most people. Hell, it was strange to us, but only in the beginning. But it was actually how we had met. We had been at a party of our mutual friend's house, and I had been grumpy as hell while on my period (surprise, surprise). I had been curled up on the couch, and he had nearly sat on me until I yelled at him. He apologized for not seeing me, and I told him to go screw himself. And then I asked him if he had warm hands. He had been confused, I had taken his hand, discovered its warmth and dragged him down to my level, putting it against my cramped abdomen. "Move your hand an inch in any direction and you're dead meat," I had growled at him. "You're mine for the night." Later, after I had fallen asleep on him only to wake up with my cramps gone and extremely embarrassing memories from the night before I had apologized. But Seth, being the upstanding male that he is, laughed it off, introduced himself properly and informed me that if I ever needed a personal thermos to let him know.
You would think it would sound like the start of a romantic relationship. But it wasn't. It was simply the start of a very intriguing friendship. And ever since that party a year and a half ago, we've been close, and he's been able to endure all of my moods. He's always been available to act as a human thermos, and his hand has never strayed an inch higher or lower, but only ever stayed squarely where I put it, only his thumb moving in gentle, soothing circles.
I'm not going to say it's not a bit disappointing.
"So how's Vee?" I asked as the previews started rolling. Vee was his girlfriend, Victoria, Veronica, whatever her name was. I could never remember. In my head, she's always been Vixen-bitch, and rather than slip up in front of Seth, I stick to calling her Vee.
"She's good," he replies, shrugging his shoulder. "She's working on a 'super-annoying project' right now," he said, changing his voice to become high pitched imitation of his girlfriends.
"Aha," I said. "That explains your determination to hang out with me."
"Don't be ridiculous," he said incredulously. He paused. "That's only part of it."
"Oh, yeah, and what's the other part?"
"My secret love for you," he said. I looked up at him, startled, then snorted.
"Yeah, ho-kay," I said, snuggling against him. "You can stop being silly now." Reaching around, I grabbed the remote from his hand and brought the dvd to the title menu, then crinkled my nose. "Why are we watching this?" I whined. "It's all…happy and stuff."
He gave me a look. "It's an action movie."
Yeah, but it was one with a ridiculously happy love interest plot line thing going on in it, which I so wasn't in the mood for. "Yes, but it…ends happy?" I said.
"Nice try," he said, grabbing the remote from me and selecting the play button. "You're going to watch it and you're going to like it."
"That's what you think," I grumbled under my breath as the movie started playing.
Fifty minutes or so later, when the lead stars were just getting ready to break their sexual tension and kiss passionately for the first time, I stole the remote back from Seth.
"I'm kind of in a 'I hate all men,' mood," I explained, pressing play until the kiss scene was finally over.
Seth caught wind of the serious tone in that statement, recognizing that it wasn't just a playful excuse for my actions. I felt him change the way he was sitting, so that he could focus his attention on me. "Why, what's up?"
"Same old, same old," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "Just overemphasized by the hormones."
"Tell me about it."
I shifted my position slightly, contemplating. "I'm just so tired of being single," I blurted out. I winced as soon as I said it. Seth took the remote from my hands and paused the movie. He waited. "It's just…I'm twenty years old, have never had a real boyfriend, never been on a real date, never done anything more than kiss a guy, and the only reason I ever did that was because of the party I was at! All of my friends are getting boyfriends and they always say they won't get crazy and devote all of their time to him, but it never works out that way and I don't really blame them, but I miss them and god…" I heaved, feeling the tears pressing against the back of my eyes. "I just would love to have a boyfriend. But I don't want a boyfriend just for the sake of having one. I can't just go out and find the next guy and turn him into my boyfriend.
"I need someone serious, someone who I can count on. Someone who can guide me and take my hand and teach me what I'm doing. Someone who can take the lead, but isn't a dictator, you know? Someone who's fun, but serious. Knows when to hang around, when to back off. Someone legit. And what sucks the most is when you think you know…" I cut myself off abruptly, suddenly remembering that I wasn't just venting into thin air, but to Seth. My cheeks flamed red, and I was glad I was tucked into his lap in just the right way that he couldn't see my face.
"What sucks the most?"
"Nevermind," I said. "I shouldn't have even started. I'm sorry."
"Oh-ho!" Seth cried, and I cringed at the triumphant tone. "You already have someone in mind, don't you?"
"Shut it, Seth."
"Let's watch the movie," I said, reaching back for the remote.
"Come on, Evie, spill." He gave me a playful shake by waggling the knee that my head was resting on. "Who is this lucky guy?"
"I plead the fifth," I grumbled.
"Aha, but I'm not American…" he countered.
Rolling over, I caught his eye. "Drop it, Seth," I said, any pretense of playing around with him gone. "I mean it. I don't want to talk about it. Play the damned movie."
His face dropped, and for a second I felt bad. But I reminded myself I couldn't. I was just protecting him. Protecting us. "Yeah, alright," he said, handing me the remote. "We'll watch the movie then."
I cringed when he didn't put his hand back on my stomach, but was pleased when he started up playing with my hair again a few moments later.
"I'm sorry I pried Evie," he said quietly.
"I know," I replied. "It's not your fault, I shouldn't have brought it up."
"I'm here if you ever want to talk about it, you know." His fingers paused.
"Yeah," I said, snuggling against him, "I know." I know.
I knocked incessantly on the door.
I rolled my eyes at the harsh tone, ignoring it. "Seeeeth," I called out in a singsong voice. "Oh, Seeeetthhh."
"What do you want with my life, Evie?"
"Your sperm, so I can have gorgeous, British babies," I retaliated, shaking my head, even though I knew he couldn't see me. There was silence on the other side of the door, and I could only imagine Seth screwing up his face in disgust. "Kidding Seth," although the ironic part is that I wasn't completely, "C'mon, open up."
"I'm not in the mood to see anyone right now, Evie…"
The poor boy sounded tired, and my heart ached for him.
"Oh, but Seth," I said, playing my voice up to a high falsetto of fake flirtatiousness, "I brought your favorite liquor…."
I instantly heard something clatter to the ground, followed by a muffled "Ow!" and a moment later a grouchy Seth opened the door, his hair all mussed as if he hadn't touched it all day, and he was cradling his foot as if he had just stubbed his toe. Which, considering the noise I heard a moment ago, was likely. He eyed me warily. "Butterscotch rum?"
I pulled the bottle out from behind my back and brandished it at him. "Butterscotch Rum," I echoed with a grin.
He narrowed his eyes at the bottle and snatched it from my hand before ambling back into the room. I followed him.
"Shut the door behind you," he said as he plopped down onto his bed, tucking himself into a corner.
"Well aren't we Mr. Polite today," I mumbled, closing the door as he requested. I watched as he popped the cork on the rum. "Don't you want glasses for that?"
He looked at me over the bottle, and his gaze was searing. "No," he said simply, then he took a swig from the bottle.
I raised my eyebrows at him. "Alrighty then," I said, taking a seat next to him on the bed. I put my hand on his shoulder. "Seth…"
He jerked his hand away from my touch. "Don't touch me, Eve," he growled.
"I'm not the bad guy, here, Seth," I reminded him, a snap in my voice that betrayed my displeasure. He glowered at me, wrapped in his own misery. "If you want to sit here and get drunk alone, sulking, be my guest," I snapped. I stood up, heading for the door, when I felt his hand clamp around my wrist. I looked back at him, lips pursed, waiting.
"I'm sorry, Evie," he said, giving a slight pull on my wrist. "I know you're not the bad guy." His eyes were large and puppy-dog like, and with a sigh, I sat back down beside him.
"Valerie broke up with me," he said, looking at his lap instead of me. Ah, right…Valerie, that was Vixen-bitches name. "She fucking broke up with me!" he yelled, looking up, fire in his eyes. He took another swig from the bottle.
My heart was suffering from a war of conflicting emotions, and I shoved them all into a neutral zone. It had been nearly five weeks since the last time we had really hung out, the night that he came over with the cheesecake. Ever since my near confession of wanting him to be my ideal boyfriend and my yelling at him, things had been different between us. At times they were awkward, at other moments they were just full of tense sexual frustration…at least on my part. I started avoiding him, and he…well he didn't really make any real effort to see me. And the few moments we had spent together in the course of that time had sent my heart into jackhammer mode.
It had been a long five weeks.
"I know," I said, forcing sympathy into my voice. And I did know…I had sadly seen it online. And somehow, against my better judgment, I decided to come see how he was doing. "What happened?"
"She said I didn't love her anymore…that I never really did," he pressed his lips together and shook his head. His voice was closer to anger than it was to sadness. "But the real kicker was that she said it was okay, because she didn't really love me either."
"No…" I murmured, shocked, but more over the fact that she owned up to it than the truth of the matter itself. The Vixen-bitch had never really seemed interested in anything about him other than his kisses and…other assets.
"Can you believe it?" he growled, taking another swig of the rum.
There was silence for a moment, as I gathered the courage to ask him what I wanted to without fearing his wrath. Taking a breath, I said, "Well, did you ever really love her?"
"Of course I…" he started to defend automatically, his voice loud, angry and protective, his eyes jumping up to meet my gaze angrily. When I stared back unflinchingly, he faltered. "No," he said, his voice quiet. He ran a hand through his hair, "No, I guess I never really did, did I? No…I just loved the..."
"Idea?" I supplied.
He looked at me sadly. "Not even. She wasn't exactly what you would characterize as my perfect girl. No, it was more of the…convenience."
"So…you were using here," I said slowly.
Again, his eyes jumped up, angry at the accusation, and then quieted down as he thought it through. "I suppose I was." He paused. "But she was using me too."
"She was," I agreed in a murmur.
Seth took another drink of Rum, a smaller sip this time, more contemplative than angry.
"So are you really upset then? Truly upset?"
I wrinkled my brow at him. "Why?"
He looked at me and cocked his head, thinking. "Because…" he started, then paused as if fishing around for the right reason. "Because….well, it's just the principle of the matter, that's what it is!"
I shook my head at him, half smiling. "So, in retrospect, not really all that bad?"
He smiled sadly. "I guess not."
"Good," I said, grinning at him broadly. "Then you won't be needing this." I swiped the bottle from his hands and took a swig of it myself. It burned going down, but it felt good.
"Hey!" he yelled, indignant. "Give that back!"
"You can share!" I countered, taking another sip, then handing it back to him. "See, it's not that hard!"
"Fine," he said, taking it back, draining a bit of it and then handing it back to me.
"So now that you're done being Mr. Moody," I said, returning the bottle—he took a drink, then offered it back to me. I waved it off, and he put it on the table beside his bed, "What do you want to do?"
He looked at me, a curious look in his eye that I ignored, and shrugged.
"Watch a movie?"
"Not particularly." He was still giving me this look, and I continued to ignore it.
"Read a book?"
"Play a game?" I suggested. The conversation was beginning to sound very familiar.
"Alright, well since we're running out of options, I'm going to say we should just watch a movie," I stated.
"If you want," he said, his voice uncharacteristically blasé.
I leaned across him to grab the remote. When I pulled back, he was staring at me intently. I looked away.
"Evie," he said, his voice somehow changed. Serious, now. The look in his eye frightened me.
"So what movie do we want to watch," I asked, and I could hear that all of the bravado had gone out of my voice. "Action? Horror? No…not horror…we could…" I was prattling now.
"Evelyn," he drawled, a husky component entering his voice. He took the remote from my hand and turned off the tv. "Evie, look at me."
A tremor ran through my body as I turned my head in his general direction, but still I couldn't raise my eyes. He put a finger under my chin and tipped it up, bringing my eyes with it. My mouth parted unwillingly under the intense smolder in his gaze, and I was now extremely conscious of my breathing, of every part of my body and where it was in relationship to him. His thumb stroked the area of my chin. Goosebumps rose on my arms. His face was eerily close to mine.
"There was something else that Valerie said," he murmured.
Oh great, I thought, feeling as though a damp blanket had just settled on my mood, we were back on the topic of the Vixen-bitch.
"Yeah. She said I couldn't love her because I loved someone else."
"Well that's…" I began, intending to say "silly," but he continued over top of me.
"True," he said, and before I could register what he said, he closed the distance between our faces, pressing his lips against my mouth. I felt my heart stop and skip a beat before starting off again at a frantic tattoo at the contact. His mouth was soft and moist, but still somehow firm and perfect, and I felt my eyelids flutter shut as my body responded to the kiss, moving against it's own accord, following the direction of my heart not my brain as I moved my lips against his.
His hands moved to draw me closer. The one that had been on my jaw threaded itself into my hair, pulling my face closer as the other landed on the small of my back, running down the spine first in a soft caress before knotting at the bottom of my shirt, his fingers lightly brushing my exposed skin as he pulled me closer to him. My own hands were clawed against his shirt, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue against my lips and then in as they gave way, parting for him. It was the perfect kiss I had always yearned for, not that sloppy kiss that I had received on that drunk night. All I could process was that this was perfection.
Until my brain slammed back into control of my body and the hands that were knotted in his shirt turned into flat palms that shoved him away.
Seth looked hurt as I backed away from him on the bed, my chest heaving. My brain was still foggy, struggling to bridge the gap between desire and reason. His girlfriend had just broken up with him, only hours before.
"I don't want to be your rebound girl," I spat, the idea sending a clutch of pain though my mind. My heart constricted, and I felt tears welling in my eyes. We couldn't ruin our friendship for this…no matter how much I felt for him, I could never stand being a rebound.
Clarity dawned on Seth's eyes, and they widened as he held both of his hands up. "Evie…no! No, no, no!" he waved his hands frantically, and hurt was replaced on my part by confusion. "You're not! Don't you see? Valerie was my rebound for you."
His words hit me like a ton of bricks, driving the air out of my lungs. "I don't…"
"You said it yourself, I was using her. But not for why you would think. Not because I'm a 'man with insatiable needs'," he would, I thought, parody words that I had to him ages ago for this discussion, "but because I was trying to keep my mind off of you."
My mind reeled. Was this even possible? Could this boy, this man that I'd had feelings for for what felt like eons have returned the same ones and I had never known it? I cast my mind back to previous encounters. To all the times that he brought me cake or sat by my side and cared for me while I was in pain with cramps, or even any other form of illness. To the jokes we had. The looks we shared. The things he had said. The ones that I had blatantly ignored.
Very, blatantly ignored, I realized at that moment. I had grown so used to having to quell my feelings for him that I had long since learned to ignore any signs of what could possibly be read as anything other than friendly affection. Especially during our last encounter, when things got awkward to the point that I had made it my goal to avoid him.
"Well that was dumb," I scoffed, referring to both myself and him. He looked affronted. "You could have just had me and saved yourself all of this hassle."
"I…" he started to argue, ready to explain himself. And then what I said seemed to sink in, and his face relaxed and then became very boyish. "Really?"
I gave him a droll stare. "No, I'm just messing with you," I said flatly. He smirked, then, sensing my sarcasm. By this point in time, he was more than used to it. "Yes, really."
He looked at me, more realization seeming to dawn on him. "Was I the guy you were alluding to the other week? When you were rambling on about men?"
I blushed to think he had remembered that. I looked away so he wouldn't see my face redden. "Yeah," I admitted.
"Does that mean I can still have you then?" he asked, his face cautious, unsure. He took my hand. "I promise I will guide you, and be patient. I've always been patient with you, Eve, I've been wanting to teach you for a while now. Will you let me?"
I thought about that for a moment. About the wisdom of agreeing to this so soon after he became single. And he had just admitted to using his last girlfriend. But this is what I wanted, and I would be damned if I let this opportunity pass me by. I took a breath, and took the plunge. "As long as you never use me," I agreed slowly.
"I would never," he replied, his voice deadly serious as his entire body stiffened at the thought. "You listen to me Evelyn Marie Tiernan," he employed my full name, something which he had never done, "you are the girl of my dreams. You are the one who holds my heart…and you have long before you even knew it. Don't think I would ever dream of using you." He stared me down, our gazes locked so he knew I knew he was serious. "I would sooner die."
His words, and the conviction behind them, had me convinced, and I realized that because his tone I had even shrunk away from him slightly. Recovering, I smiled and took his hand in mine. "Okay," I said, my heart fluttering in disbelief at the decision we had just made.
"Okay," I repeated, squeezing his hand.
"And if you ever use me…I just might break."
My eyebrows knitted together. "Oh, but I already do," I said, ever so sweetly. His eyes widened and for a moment he looked genuinely appalled. "I have been ever since the first moment we met. You are, after all, my personal thermos," I said, my mouth twisting into a grin as I nodded.
Catching the trail, Seth heaved a sigh and nodded his head mock-forlornly. "This is true. I suppose I see how it is. I guess I can resign myself to being a thermos…"
"And a masseuse," I added. "Oh, oh, and a food-bringer. Oh, and when I have my period," I giggled as he cringed, "You can get me my tampons!"
Seth pulled a face of disgust. "Now there, I draw the line," he said, "I refuse to buy any…women's products, I don't care who you are."
"Oh, but Seth," I cooed, enjoying the way his face reacted to me saying his name. "Think of the rewards you would get…"
His eyebrows shot up, and he looked genuinely startled and amused. I always had fun startling this boy…and it was just going to get better from here. "What sort of rewards?" he asked.
"Oh, you know," I said, shrugging carelessly a moment before I leaned forward. "This sort," I finished as I pressed my lips against his. A feeling of thrill shot through me at finally being able to do this. I felt his hands come up against my back and pull me into him. I sighed happily against his lips.
Seth pulled away, but just far enough that he could look me in the eye. "Well in that case, I might just reconsider," he said, his voice breathless.
Smiling at him, I played with the hair around his ears. "I thought you might say that," I said, a second before I kissed him again.
Abruptly, he pulled back, looking at me with a very perplexed, worried expression. "Wait a second, does that mean you meant what you said earlier, about just wanting my sperm so you could have beautiful British babies?"
I laughed, long and hard, feeling my face redden. I covered my face with both hands for a moment, then took them away again to look at him. "Would that be such a bad thing?" I asked playfully.
He seemed to ponder this for a moment. "Nah," he said, "I guess not. Besides," he said, grinning at me, "We would make beautiful babies, wouldn't we?"
My blush deepening as my embarrassment heightened. "I get it, so you're just using me for my womb."
"Ah, damn it," he said, snapping his fingers. "You caught me, love. Those were exactly my intentions."
I simply rolled my eyes and kissed him. Men.
There now, all over. I would love to hear back from you, any critiques are welcome except those saying that the relationship moved too fast, yadda yadda. I wrote it the way I did because that's what felt right when writing it. It's not real life. Yes, it was probably a bit fast and there could have been more development inbetween, but it was all up to the characters on this one, and that's the way they wanted it to happen!
Any mistakes that I may have overlooked, or continuity, please let me know.