SALT
Yeah, my emotions are all over the place. I don’t even know what I want anymore, and it has only been four days since I met Eliano.
There is something about him that I really dig, more than I probably should, something hard to pin down. Maybe it’s that stubborn streak of his, the way he stands his ground. At the same time, he just seems like a genuinely cool person, and that’s the real problem: I am not the right guy for him.
I wish I were, though. But he has no idea what kind of mess I could pull him into, how much chaotic shit I can bring about.
It all started after the brain injury I got when my stepfather beat me. After that, my emotions never really swung back to normal. The doctor said my prefrontal cortex had taken damage, the part responsible for impulse control and emotional regulation. I could still think and plan, but I just lost some of my brakes.
Along with that came the usual peachy antisocial package: bursts of aggression, a taste for risk, and often no real sense of danger. My brain still knew right from wrong. But it was a rollercoaster.
Over the years, things eased up a little. The therapy Senu signed me up for helped, and his habits started rubbing off on me too, his caution, his distrust of alphas. I picked up tricks tohold myself in check, to dodge the worst risks, especially with the wrong crowd.
Now I’m stalled in this weird tug-of-war, totally focused on Eliano, dealing with a desire that snuck up on me these past few days and just won’t quit.
When I see him in front of his laptop, a faint frown on his forehead, I sneak glances at the veins standing out on his forearms, his flat, toned stomach, and that packed, tempting bulge. I want to touch him, suck him off, but that’s a shortcut to dumb mistakes. It would throw me off the plan again.
In the afternoon there are cooking classes.
Each pair has their own station with a gas stove, and this time the class isn’t led by Pip but by another beta, Hugh, the guy I’ve seen around the kitchen before.
Watching him move back and forth between the kitchen and the room full of cooking couples, an idea pops into my head. Faking a need for extra veggies, I head to the back, where he steps in briefly himself to grab a set of knives.
I start to wash a few sweet potatoes as Hugh leaves the storage room.
When he’s out, my eyes land on his toiletry bag. I have no idea why, but it draws me in. I check it quickly, hoping to find something. Maybe a ferry schedule, a universal access card, or a personal taser, but my eye lands on sleeping pills. Hmm… who knows what they might come in handy for. I quickly pop a few tablets out and slip them into my pocket.
Hugh comes back, but I pretend to still wash the veggies.
Trying to sound chill, I ask about their suppliers. Are they a supermarket chain or some farmers’ markets? I ramble on about how blueberries are supposed to be good for my eyesight and ask if they ever get them in deliveries.
And then a miracle happens.
Hugh just offers it up on his own.
"You are in luck, I ordered a few crates recently for our vanilla blueberry tarts. The supply transport arrives in a week, and if you want, I can set one crate aside for you, assuming you like making things with them yourself."
"Oh, on Wednesday?"
"Yeah, the ferry comes every Wednesday at the crack of dawn."
Wow, that was easy. So I have one of the ferry arrival dates already. Unfortunately, my luck still sucks, because today is Thursday, and on top of that we have another doctor’s appointment lined up.
Time to gear up with a little patience and double down on keeping my distance from Eliano. It will be better that way—I repeat it like a fucking autohypnosis.
And yet, I quickly fail.
The few hours before sleep pass with me battling these weird spasms in my hole, and I can’t focus on a damn thing; my brain’s stuck on Eliano’s… dick. I see it in my drooling mouth, or pushed into my pucker. Crazy! And fucking annoying.
On top of that, I have a feeling my ring is swollen, slightly protruding, puffy. When I go take a shower, I inspect it, and it really seems to be sticking out a bit and is super sensitive to the touch. It’s infuriating, since I keep feeling the need to rub it somehow, and it’s just not a smart idea with Eliano around.
Watching my body under the streams of water, I absently slide my fingers over my nipples, but I have to stop fast because something inside me starts to grow. Like I’m about to let out some kind of… sound?
What the hell? I’ve never made a single AO call before. So I clear my throat and mentally smack myself for even thinking something that stupid.
After I shower and crawl into bed, Eliano is still working on his article.
Lying on my side, I stare at him, and that annoying hunger starts building inside me even more relentlessly.
