Just as he reaches for my underwear, my brain can only think of one person. If it were him, he would savor every touch, giving the sweetest loving nibbles on and the most passionate kisses. It's not just sex with him. It's a demonstration of love.
"Amias…"
The man looks up at me and raises a brow. " Amias? What… the fuck… does that mean?"
Amias… the man that has my heart in his hands. The man with a serene lake oasis captured in his irises. The man with a voice like silk, like gentle waves lapping over rocks. The man who can turn night into day just from the sound of his laugh.
It's sacred just to be able to hear his gentleness carry throughout himself. To just experience his kindness .
No man is worth touching after being with him.
I push at the man's chest as I stumble forward. "I… have to… go…"
My hand fumbles with the doorknob behind me before twisting it open. I stagger out, just barely able to coordinate my steps.
Amias. Amias. Amias.
That's the only name I can think of.
Amias. Amias. Amias.
I manage to stumble out of the apartment building and out on the streets. I don't know where to go. I let my feet lead me wherever. His name keeps pounding in my head. The name drains me of joy as I settle on the fact that he's gone.
Amias.
It seems like forever as I stumble past antique shops and bars. People dressed in white tunics and dresses gasp at me. The sidewalk is lit up with torches placed outside of each building door. This is where I'm supposed to live for the rest of my life. Without him.
Down the street, I come across a crowd of people. The ground is covered with sand between two buildings. A circular stage of carved stone stands in the middle. Both children and adults gather around. The stage is lit by torches at the bottom of the stage, as women and men with fancy dresses and coats perform on top.
Just before the crowd, is a wooden sign that says ‘The Story of Rayden and Lydia by Oliver Causus”.
Lydia and Rayden?
I narrow my eyes at the stage, suddenly feeling sober. What's this then?
"We must make her forget, for what Rayden has brought lies and dishonor upon our dearest Lydia." A woman stands up with a glass of wine over a table. She wears a pink gown with golden lace, along with a crown of pink flowers around her head.
I look beside her, to see a smaller woman in a purple dress, frowning at the table. "But Mother, Rayden is innocent."
"She has fallen so much, she believes that a dreamscreecher is a good man!" A man with black curls and iron armor declares. "We must heal her from this curse it has brought upon my sister."
I have a new found understanding with this story. This is starting to sound familiar. All too familiar.
I feel horrible for Rayden, but now I feel terrible for Lydia. Both victims of the same kingdom.
“I beg of you to listen,” the woman in purple pleads to her mother, standing from the table suddenly
Her mother speaks, "Now Lydia. Stand up as you take this drink. You will forget about Rayden and live forward in truth."
“Mother please…” she cries, looking at her mother with the eyes of a begging child.
Her mother shakes her head with a scowl. “You have no choice!” She says it so coldly, I can't tell if it's acting.
The smaller woman stands up and raises her glass. She clanks her cup with her mother's and her brother's before bringing it up to her mouth. "May he come forth and bring the truth back to me, when I drink this cup of lies."
She drinks it down. Each gulp is very loud and prominent.
Suddenly Lydia distorts into a different person. One who I would dread to see on the cleansed side of this scene. One with sandy blond hair and beautiful blue eyes.
