The sculptor; part 21

He's lying there. Waiting for me to return to his body.
I climb on the bed.

Study his face.

One side of his face is that of an angel. Soft and sweet, vulnerable. The other side; an imp. A faun. Naughty and extremely sexy. His mouth, his pink hart shaped mouth. The line between his lips, drawn by a Chinese calligraphist, and then when they part a little, the glimpse of his teeth. His strong slightly crooked but perfect teeth.
They make my heart spin.
Lashes...thicker and longer then any girl's.

When he smiles. That dimple.

When he frowns. That furrowed brow.

His long soft hair spread out on the pillow while his arms are stretched, bound behind his head, exposing his marvellous armpits with slightly wet curly dark hair.

Oh he's muscled. Strong, but lean.

His chest, hairless. A trail of soft down on his belly, leading to his gorgeous swollen dick.

I stroke his sinewy, well shaped leg. From his shin to his thigh. I cup his balls, grasp the base of his shaft with two delicate potter's hands and slowly massage them upwards, till the top, gently stroke the rim with my thumbs and move my hands down again - along his beautiful pole.

He breathes out with a shudder.

"Hálwen." He pleads.

I take him in my mouth. His taste, somehow so alive - so warm, spicy and sweet.

This power I have over him makes me feel like a goddess. When I look up at him, my tongue vacuum against his throbbing top, my lips in oral devotion - I see his eyes, his pleading eyes fixed on me- and I see love, oh yes, love.....and yearning, endless yearning.

Without breaking the eye contact I graze my way over his body, up to his face.
A kiss. A whisper.

My hands claw in his beautiful hair when I lower myself onto him and watch his face in fascination while I ride him. Ride him till this thundering feeling of earth comes over me and when I come and cry out his name, I see his face transform from an almost painful grin with gritted teeth to the blissful face of an angel.

"Love." He whispers and in slow motion his lashes fall over his eyes.

Together we cycle to the station.
After I lock my bike we kiss.

I hand him the keys.

"Say thanks to Dave from me. For lending me his bike."

"I will." Eddie says.

"So..." I sigh with a regretful smile. "I'll see you tonight."

"Nine." He strokes my cheek.

"Bye." I turn.

With my eyes squeezed shut and a hollow feeling in my stomach I walk away.

"Flat mate!"

I freeze.

"I love you." He calls.

With a sob I laugh.

"I love you too, son of a bitch." I look over my shoulder.

He puts his fingers on his mouth and then stretches his hand to me.

On the train home I can't stop grinning.

I remember him sitting in front of me with his arms clasped around his knees, biting his lip, tears rolling over his cheeks while he tells me he loves me.
A rapt sound escapes me.

An older man sitting at the opposite side of the compartment looks disapproving at me.
I don't care.

While we we're smoking a little joint after our fabulous lovemaking Eddie had said that tonight he will tell Dave and the other guys from the band that he'll stop touring and leave the band. He'll explain to them that he can't handle the pressure, the inauthenticity, of the music business. He'll finish his year at art school and he will occupy himself with sculpting.
I press my hands against my face and giggle.
He even said he would do an extra year at the academy I'm attending.
And then he kissed me again.
Oh....his mouth.

My grin won't leave my face.

I close my eyes and see his lean naked body, I see him drawing me, driving me insane with lust.

The window of the train wagon is damp. With my fingernail I sketch his features, his furrowed brow and long curly hair, his huge erect penis...

The other passenger scrapes his throat.

Quickly I doodle a bit over the illustration - a heart - then wipe away the whole drawing.
We arrive at my destination.

I'm nervous when I enter the venue.

Eddie told me I could walk on; I only had to show the bracelet he gave me.
Backstage I see Dave, and the other Dave. Both busy.
But no Eddie.

"Well, well." I hear a voice behind me.
"If it isn't the awkward child."

I turn and see Esther leaning against the wall.

"So..." She walks towards me and grabs my wrist, looks disapprovingly at the bracelet that gave me backstage entrance.

I pull back my arm.

She just laughs, then a silent smirk with one raised brow.

"You're falling hard for him, aren't you? Did he do the crying act on you as well?"
Another tinkling laugh follows when she sees my horrified face.
"We are all his slaves, aren't we?"
She takes my chin and kisses me hard on my mouth.

Then she turns and walks away with swaying hips.
Leaving me.
Astounded.

When I walk away a group of people stream my direction. A guy grabs me around my waist and leads me back into the venue.
"You're going the wrong way, love."
As if comatose and unresisting I let him drag me straight up front of the stage.

I know tears are running down my cheeks when the spotlights go on and the first notes of the opening song are heard.

An involuntary shiver goes through me when I hear Eddie's golden brown voice.

I can't look. My eyes are closed. My head bended low.

The crowd makes it impossible for me to leave...girls and men are screaming, the music is loud.

Then I hear my name.

And a hand takes mine, drags me to the stage. Other's push me up.

Dazed I stand next to Eddie.

Who smiles his lovely dimply smile.

And I just can't help seeing love in his eyes. Even though my brain tells me I'm a fool.

Eddie looks at me expectant.

"Well?" He asks.

"Sorry...what?" I wonder.

"What song do you want to sing?"

"Me?"

He laughs.

"Don't be shy...I know you can."

Suddenly I understand what he wants...I lean forward and whisper it in his ear while he combs the slick hair away from his neck.
I inhale, oh, he smells so good....and take a step back.

The look on his face tells me he doesn't understand.

"Why?" He mouths. There is pain in his eyes.

The he shrugs and walks to the rest of the band.
The crowd is cheering. Waiting.
Then Eddie and the guys nod. They are ready.
I take the mic and it feels as if my throat just squeezes shut.

"Come on! Show us your tits!" somebody yells.

"Fuck off." Eddie shouts back. "Hey man, I understand your enthusiasm but if you can't behave....just go....you know...just leave. Show some respect."

He puts his arm around me and takes me to the back while he shushes the crowd with an arm gesture.

"We'll be back." Causing cheering and catcalling.

"Listen." He says while he pushes me down on a case, and kneels in front of me, stroking my thighs, looking me in the eyes.

"If you don't want to I understand. But know...know, I will always love you. You hear? You’re my girl...my Hálwen...my love. My life!
But please tell me...why did you pick that song?

Why?'

"Esther..." I mumble.

"That bitch." Eddie breaths out through gritted teeth.

"Come on...sing...get it out of your system. Let's do this...and after....after this we'll talk."
He pulls me up and brushes his lips over mine.

This time I let the rhythm flow over me and when I breathe in to sing, my voice doesn't fail me.

No more,

It's done,

Crawl home,

Get gone,

Your love,

Is evil,

Lonesome,

My bones

Eddie grabs the other mic and joins me for the chorus. He stands close. His guitar is on his back and his warm body almost like a magnet to me.

Took me such a long time to figure it out,

Now is it too late, I can't do without,

Took me such a long time to figure it out,

Don't take it away, away, oh

Snowstorm,

My heart,

Crawl home,

Your love,

Is evil,

And lonesome,

Just get more,

When you've dared

Took me such a long time to figure it out,

Now is it too late, I can't do without,

Took me such a long time to figure it out,

Don't take it away, away, oh

Together with Eddie, while he pushes up against me.

Making me sing the words even more passionate.

Took me such a long time to figure it out,

Now is it too late, I can't do without,

Took me such a long time to figure it out,

Don't take it away, away, oh*

Totally empty I stare over the cheering, whistling and applauding audience.
"You're amazing." Eddie's lips against my ear.
I turn and look at him.

I smile.
Dave walks to me and gives me a hug.
"You were great." He says.

And then he lowers me of the stage where a big guy with a security shirt awaits me.

When some people try to touch me he gently but resolute pushes them away.

The band continues to play.
I feel exhilarated and happy. I just know Eddie loves me. I know it.

At that moment I hear a sharp, very loud whistling sound and screams.
I hear what sounds like a firecracker. It is loud but the gig is very loud so I think it is part of the show.

There are people falling around me, there is a lot of blood. Blood everywhere.

The security guy pulls my arm, wants me to lie low. But I turn to Eddie who stares at the balcony and then at me.

His face. Aghast.

Something hits me.

As if there is an explosion inside of me the force brings me to my knees.
I clasp my chest.
It's wet and warm.

When I look up I see Eddie being dragged away by Dave. He tries to fight him of, his eyes fixed on me. But Dave has him in a firm headlock and I can see Eddie screams, but I don't hear anything.

I only see his face when everything turns white.

Then.

Nothing.

I never planned this story to end this way.
But Bataclan happened. And I could think of nothing else. I didn't write until now.

I thought of a couple of quotes from Eddie Vedder, like:
" The idea is about if you love someone and they love you, don't fuck up."
And
" Oh, it's a fragile thing

This life we lead

If I think too much I can get overwhelmed by the grace

By which we live our lives with death over our shoulders"
And
".... And if you've got good friends, love them while they're here."

I want to make clear that in no way I want to romanticise the abomination that occurred in Paris by writing about some similar the act of violence in this chapter, but it is merely used to describe the shock I felt after hearing of the horror in Bataclan and thinking of those innocent people that lost their lives.

Never to return home.

* Lyrics : Desert Sessions – Crawl Home